Page 95 of Blackmail
I just want to find my brother. After a year of looking, I’m losing hope.
Some security guys Sebastian hired managed to find most of the people who have disappeared around Belle Argo recently. Most of the rich ones, anyway. It’s good news and everything, but none of them were my brother. I don’t know if he’s one of the people who got taken in this trafficking scheme, though. I don’t know anything, and that’s the problem.
“Happy, happy, happy biiiirthday…”
Across from me, a pretty blond waitress slaps a party hat on Adam. Another one’s taking his picture while he and Troy kiss (for some fucking reason) a stuffed cow. More staff are standing behind him and clapping. Most of them look bored.
Alexis and Eve get up to kiss the cow too. Meanwhile, Adam manages to blow the frosting on his cupcake halfway across the table, but the candle’s still lit.
Bunch. Of. Idiots.
I’m going to miss them when I’m gone.
I slide my phone out of my pocket. It’s been set to silent, but I know I’ve been getting messages.
PJ: Did you find the present I got for you?
Fallon: I did, Keeper
PJ: Are you wearing it?
Fallon: Not yet. I’m at the faculty mixer, remember?
“Hey, everything all right? You’re not singing.” Ravi, one of the newbies, nudges me from the right. “You’re not stressed about that paper due next week, are you? I feel like the professor’s asking a lot for so early in the semester.”
“He’s not a professor, just a regular instructor.”
“Either way. I just think symbolism is hard, you know? Especially if the author isn’t alive anymore. Like, how do I know what the roses in The Scarlet Letter were supposed to be about? Were they about hope and defiance, or did Nathaniel Hawthorne just think roses smelled nice? It’s confusing.”
Ravi and I are both students at Belle Argo University, and we’re both in the same Intro to Literature class. He’s a freshman and I’m a senior. Because that’s what happens when you put off taking your core requirements until the last minute. I’m surrounded by nineteen-year-olds.
I shake my head. “I’m not nervous. My paper’s done.” It’s not done. I haven’t even started. Like I said, I’ve had bigger things on my mind.
“…and then you need to pound on it real fucking hard until…” I don’t know what Simon’s talking about now. That’s the danger of tuning out. Now I can’t tune back in because it’ll only be worse. God forbid I act like I was listening. They might want my opinion.
“Hey, PJ, what do you think?”
Fuck.
I take another quick look at my phone.
Fallon: You’re not upset with me, are you?
I close the message and hold up my phone. “Sorry, I have to go. But congrats on the house, man. Love that for you.”
I toss enough cash on the table to cover the drinks, and the toast I didn’t eat, and I get out of there before anyone else can ask questions. I step out into the warm day, still humid but “only” in the upper eighties, because that’s Florida’s version of fall.
I reread the last text I received. I’d better reply before he worries.
Leaning against the red brick facade of Gil’s, I consider my answer. I’m still feeling my way through this whole thing. It’s a new kind of relationship for me.
I’d be lying, though, if I said I didn’t love it. I love how powerful he makes me feel.
PJ: I’m not mad. Just wanted to see it on you.
PJ: But I know how you can make it up to me.
Fallon: Anything
