Page 65 of The Gambler's Prize
Iopen my eyes with difficulty. There’s so much sleepy gunk there, it’s like wrestling with a door that’s been painted shut. My throat feels parched, and my head is spinning. I’m in bed. The blinds are closed. Only a tiny crack of light peeks through, but it’s already giving me a headache. I have no idea what time it is, or even what day it is. Stars, this is the worst hangover ever. Where am I? I risk another peek at the light, my brain workingat quarter speed. It’s Grimes’ bedroom. The crappy faded wallpaper matches the paper in the hallway, and there are the bare floorboards I pried up when I snooped on him. Someone is sitting on the end of the bed. I pull up the sheets instinctively around me but it’s only Grimes, quiet but alert.
“Boss?” I croak, my throat scratchy.
He rushes to the head of the bed.
“You’re okay, Florian,” he whispers. “You’re okay, flower.”
I can’t remember anything. But I know there’s nothing to be afraid of, because I’ve never heard such tenderness in anyone’s voice before.
“I feel like shit,” I say. “What happened to me?”
His dark eyes burn with anger as he looks down at me. His hood is down and the tattoo’s sharp lines on his neck are just visible in the gloom.
“I’ll tell you when you feel better. But you’re okay, trust me.” He brushes a lock of hair off my face. I can’t take my eyes off him, that intense look in his gaze. “I need to get you something to eat,” he says, but he keeps staring at me as though he doesn’t want to leave me alone.
“I’ll come with you.” I try to sit up. The room lurches like it’s the one with the hangover.
“No, I’ll go.” Grimes takes two steps toward the door and then stops and looks back at me. The concern on his face makes me want to cry and I don’t even know why. “Stay right there, okay?” he says.
I salute and he laughs, uneasily. He’s worried about me. Am I really ill? I listen to him clomp downstairs. Even sitting down, it’s a struggle to stay upright. I feel terrible. When did I last eat? My mouth tastes like vomit. Stars, I hope Grimes didn’t see me throw up…
I concentrate, trying to remember. Disjointed thoughts slosh in and out of my battered mind, like bathwater being displacedand coming back into the tub. Gradually they piece themselves together. The fair. The archery demonstration. The hot air balloon. Talking to Grimes at the food stall. His serious, guilty eyes. His revenge scheme. He won meon purpose. I ran off in disgust and then I met those people… Hevra? And his friends. I remember drinking… a lot. Being ill… somewhere. At the fair? Here? I remember waking up dizzy, woozy. Talking to Grimes. When was that? No idea. But I talked and talked. I wouldn’t shut up. I told him I forgave him for his scheme, which is true. I told him I’m a needy slut…Why? It’s the truth, but why say it to him? I told him I want to be with him. Stars, he’s going to think I’m so forward and desperate.
He comes back into the room but my head is in my hands with shame now. I listen, without looking, to his footsteps on the bare floorboards.
“Do you feel ill again?” he says. “Let me see you.”
I force myself to look up. “Boss, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have thrown myself at you.”
He sets down a tray of food and sits beside me.
“We can talk about all that later,” he says. “But know this, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Eat something now.”
It’s so easy and comforting to fall into the pattern of his taking charge of me. Looking after me.
“Can I brush my teeth first?” I say. “My mouth tastes like death.”
He brings my toothbrush from my room and a glass of water. I feel a little better once I’ve cleaned the gunk from my teeth and taken a drink. Grimes pushes the plate toward me: a few slices of dry bread and a hard-boiled egg. I take a small bite, still unsure even though it’s as plain fare as you can get.
“Tell me what happened?” I say. “I’m ready now.”
Grimes shifts his weight, like he’s wondering if that’s true.
“Well, the fair was three days ago,” he says. He hesitates, laying his hand over mine. “You’ve been ill ever since. Your drink was spiked withabask. It was Hevra. Don’t worry, he’s in custody now. He can’t hurt you.”
I feel weak again. When am I going to learn not to be so impulsive? I trusted him way too early, just because I was pissed at Grimes. Stupid.
“He wasn’t able to do anything to you,” Grimes say. “I got there in time.”
“I was so stupid,” I say.
“You trust easily, that’s all.”
“Yes. Stupidly easily.”
“Stop that. You’re never going to call yourself stupid again, you hear me?”
I blink at how stern he sounds. Then immediately fall into line, body humming at being commanded. “Yes, Boss.”
