Page 14 of Ambition

I refuse to give into the feeling of nails digging into my heart. And all I say is, “Great.”

* * *

Karia Ven is stunning.She is blonde and lithe and beautiful with tanned white skin—not sure if the tan is real but it looks very good—and she is currently sitting on the gray sectional in our living room, a drink in her hand, the other massaging Von’s shoulder as he glances at me across the room, his shirt off and sweats slung low on his hips.

Karia is dressed in a casual red skirt and oversized white tank and Von’s hand is on her bare thigh in the darkened living room.

It’s not even noon, but hours and time mean nothing to us. Besides, with the blacked-out curtains closed tight, it’s like night in here.

“Hi, Isa!” Karia says brightly, smiling at me as she huddles up next to Von.

She is the daughter of a family friend; a year younger than us, she was around a lot when we were forced into panic rooms and hiding from enemies while our parents defended us against whatever threats came our way. Or rather, my dad and Von’s parents did. My mom was usually with us, watching over us like some sort of wicked angel.

She wasn’t wicked exactly, and in fact, she doesn’t really fit into the perception of professional criminals, but she was complicit and supportive all the same, so she’s earned her honor.

“Hi, Karia.” I grab a banana from the smoky gray island in the adjoining, open-plan kitchen. Karia pulled up as soon as Von drove past our condo’s gates, but I hurried inside ahead of them to put my stuff in my room.

Now, they’re here. I don’t know where Cosmo is—a friend of ours from our private high school, although he’s two years older than Von and I but graduated with our class—and I wish he was here if only to make this less awkward.

Von’s hand slides dangerously high up Karia’s thigh, pushing back her red skirt. His hands are so big, I swear it’s like his palm and fingers curve nearly around her entire leg.

I try to breathe as Karia widens her thighs and clears her throat, looking away from me. Unlike myself, she has no aspirations to work in Writhe. She wants to be married, and maybe become a teacher, and she does not want to twirl a man’s intestines from his bowels for the sake of her best friend.

“Ah, I see why we were invited.” Cosmo’s voice fills the kitchen at the same time he comes inside from the patio.

I turn to glance over my shoulder and feel relief in my core, taking in the checkered lighter he has in one hand, the all black attire he’s wearing, his shaved head, olive white skin, and green eyes on mine. He is tall and skinny and gorgeous, and he is looking between Karia and Von, and myself, like he knows exactly what’s up.

“Isa,” Von says quietly, drawing my attention back to him. I turn and watch him nod his head as if he is acknowledging my emergence from my room, despite the fact I live here. He glances at Cosmo. “Hope you don’t mind,” he says, his gaze coming back to me.

I squeeze the banana tighter in my hand as Von turns to the TV, dismissing me and flicking through selections. I know he will waste an hour finding precisely what he wants to watch, and it drives me crazy. I usually take the remote from him and put something on myself. But no way in fuck am I watching a movie with them while he fingers her between us. And he’ll do it, even if Cosmo is here, simply to spite me.

His hand has already disappeared up her skirt.

He is not even a casual sex person. Not usually, but if he is, it’s often with Karia. Which makes this worse, somehow. But I learned how to keep my poker face from the best.

“Have fun, you two,” I say very calmly.

And I watch with satisfaction as Von’s eyes cut to mine and his entire body goes stiff.

I smile and wink at him, then turn to find Cosmo isright behind me.Despite his height, he always moves in such eerie silence. He would make a good member of Writhe, if his parents had been born into such a thing. But he’s estranged from them and as it is, he has his own work. Performance art, and the only thing I know about it is the tattoos along his shoulder blades cover up scars from an act he did a few years ago.

He stares down at me, the green in his eyes startling like lime. The scent of nicotine is strong along his body but so is something else, like a bonfire in the fall.

“What did you do last night?” he asks quietly, his voice dropped low. But a smile teases his lips, the bottom one so plush and pink. He has the ability to make everything sound amusing, and it is kind of unnerving. But I trust him well enough; he knows our family is involved in dangerous things and he has never broken our confidence.

“What do you mean?” I counter, squeezing the banana tight in my hand. It doesn’t matter that he knows a little about Writhe; he isn’t in our circle. He can’t know our missions.

He steps closer in his black high-tops, his bright green gaze flicking from my throat back to my eyes. “Don’t play stupid with me, Isadora.” His voice is way too smooth. “Was it a performance?” He has a slight northern accent; his family is from New York. I used to tease him about it constantly and he would play back about my Southern twang. And although he’s smiling, things feel suddenly tense.

Maybe because I know Von is probably watching, even with Karia practically in his lap.

“I don’t act, like you.”

“I’m not an actor. I’m an artist.” He winks, then drops his gaze to the banana in my hand. “Maybe you are too, of a sort?”

“Cosmo.” Von’s hard voice comes from the living room. “Leave her the fuck alone.”

My pulse leaps to my throat as Cosmo’s eyes study mine beneath his black brows. He seems to be asking me a question without words, and yet there is some understanding there, too, in his quiet demeanor. He knows what Von and I are like.

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