Rise Of The King: Checkmate, #5

by Finn, Emilia

  Her silence is louder than anything she could shout. In my mind, I imagine her in a massive tutu, sitting on the floor with her legs folded, and her chin in her hands.

  I know she wasn’t in a tutu before, but my imagination has always been wild, and now I want to imagine her in a tutu while she pouts.

  “Oh, Sophiiiiiiiaaaaaa. Want a joke? Lemme tell you a joke.” Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. I catch the ball with a smile, toss it again, and imagine it hitting exactly where she sits. “What kind of a train is a ballerina?”

  Of course, she doesn’t answer. She’s too proud for her own good.

  “A tutu train!” I crack myself up, do ab crunches when I curl up and laugh, then choke when the ball smacks me in the head. “I swear, you’re no fun when you’re grumpy, Soph. Alright, one more joke. You ready?”

  Silence.

  Possible plans for my murder.

  What would happen if she pointed her pistol at the floor and shot a round off?

  “Okay, so what did the ballet dancer say when she lost her shoe?”

  “Fuck off?”

  Aww, she’s right there, and she’s playing with me. Even if she thinks she’s not, even if she thinks she’s winning this round of let’s be stubborn, she’s right there and spending time with me.

  “Not the right answer, babe. Sorry. Want another guess? You can have three before you lose.”

  “She said she wants her annoying neighbor to walk off a bridge and die?”

  “Oh, so close!” Thunk. Thunk. “So, so, so close. But wrong. Last chance. Wanna make a wager? If you get it right, you get to choose what we eat for dinner tonight. But if you’re wrong, I get to choose.”

  “No.” Her voice is heavy, deep, and muted. “Because that means we eat together no matter what.”

  “I know, right?” I scrunch my nose and toss the ball again. “It’s weird how that turned out. The universe must really want us to be together.”

  “Not the universe, Jay. Just you.” Is she lying on her floor, cheek pressed to the hardwood, her ear open and waiting for my every word? I’d press my ear to the ceiling if I could.

  In fact–

  I look around in search of a ladder, but come up empty.

  “Sophia, answer me. What did the ballet dancer say when she lost her shoe?”

  Exasperated, she lets out a long sigh. “I don’t know. What did she say?”

  “Ugh! This is pointeless!”

  Silence.

  Complete, utter, deafening silence.

  Snickering, I toss the ball again. I’m freezing in this ice-box, and she still has my coat – is she lying on it? Sniffing me? Maybe that’s why she wouldn’t give it back. Perhaps this is the equivalent of high school girls taking their man’s sweatshirt… I could get on board with that. “Soph? I won’t judge you if you’re sniffing my coat right now. Just so you know. We could both wear it at the same time if you want. I’d snuggle in and be discreet when I grab your tits.”

  “Your coat is by your front door,” she grumbles. “I brought it down ages ago.”

  “Motherfucker!” I jump up from my bed and sprint to my door. Sure enough, when I swing it wide open, I find my coat folded in the hall in a neat pile. She was right there! So fucking close I could’ve opened my door and tugged her straight in.

  Was she wearing a tutu?

  Snatching up the coat, I shrug into it and shiver because it’s been in the freezing hall. “Why can’t we share your heating, Soph?” I slam my door and walk back toward my bed with the tennis ball in my left hand, and my right digging into the bag of gummies I never let run out. “I’m dying down here, and you’re up there in a leotard and not a single shiver. Share the wealth, woman! It won’t make you colder if I come up.”

  “I don’t wanna share,” she murmurs. “You’ll come up, we’ll eat, you’ll talk me out of my panties.”

  I knew she liked me too. “I don’t see the problem here, babe! It’s surviving the wilderness 101: get naked, use body heat, stay alive.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you, Jay! I have a life, and plans, and bills to pay, and shit to do. You and your dick absolutely do not fit into my plans.”

  “You just gotta relax and let it slide in.”

  “Jay!”

  “My dick won’t stop you from working! I’ve gotta work too. I’ve gotta eat, and shower, and do all sorts of non-sex shit. So we could do the sex thing, then the rest after that.”

  “You gotta work, Jay?” It’s like she’s shouting now. She seems less mumbly. “You gotta sell fridges?”

  “Yup! Now stop obsessing over my shitty career choices.” Flopping back onto the warm patch of my bed, I toss the ball. Thunk. Thunk. “Hey, quick question? It’s super serious but fast, I promise.”

  She groans. “What?”

  “What’s the one item of clothing that always makes a dancer late?”

  She sighs. “What?”

  “Her leotardy!”

  “I’m done.” And just like that, her music flips back on until the bass thumps in my chest and makes me laugh.

  6

  March

  Jay

  Nobody who knows John D. Hamilton also knows Jay Bishop. Well, nobody except Ace.

  Apart from my poor unsuspecting neighbor and the sweet redheaded waitress, Ginnie, I’ve not made friends in this new city. No time. No patience. And no interest in fun times while my brother’s life has been in the crosshairs.

  From the moment I woke in a strange hospital, while they were trying to make sure I had no lasting injuries, I knew I’d go home just as soon as the time was right.

  Home isn’t necessarily a certain house or town; it’s wherever my brother is. It’s wherever he needs me to be.

  And for now, while Kane is still being held back by our employers, and the rest of the civilian world thinks he’s dead, I stay here and track whoever has a contract on his head, and I take men out one by one until I reach the top.

  The regular authorities think Kane and Jay Bishop are both dead. Regular, as in local cops who don’t have access to sealed files. But those of us who know better know he’s being held several states from our last home, away from his girlfriend who, according to Ace’s surveillance, is very much grieving his death.

  She doesn’t know he’s okay.

  She doesn’t know he’s working and trying to make her safe.

  And Kane doesn’t know I’m here trying to make them both safe.

  He’s always been the biggest dude I know, the baddest, the bravest, so he laughs in the face of danger and considers himself indestructible.

  But I know better.

  So for as long as he remains exactly where Ace can watch, as long as he stays safe and tucked away behind files and Feds, I can stay here and do my thing.

  But there are rumbles coming through Ace’s intel that he’s restless, that he’s grieving my death, and grieving the loss of having his girl by his side. He wants out of the program, but I know better than anyone that the second he leaves, he becomes a walking target. He won’t be hidden; he won’t be protected, and when he hurts someone who threatens him – and he will; he’s fast, lethal, and ruthless when someone threatens his family – he’ll be tried and sentenced as a regular citizen.

  Just like me… But the difference is, I’d be willing to go down for him.

  For reasons unknown to me or Ace, this city is where all our tips keep leading back to. I don’t get it. I don’t get the significance. I don’t know why they’ve decided to center their main players here except maybe there are more than half a million people who help them hide and steal without being noticed.

  Five missing women, or five overdosing teens in this city aren’t nearly as noticeable as five in the little podunk town our Hayes assignment led us to.

  More people here. More girls to steal. More opportunities to blend in and get away with it.

  So this is where I stay until it no longer serves my purpose, and between now and then, I kinda hope the beautiful Sophia might gi
ve me a minute of her time.

  I haven’t stopped thinking about her in weeks, but despite my ability to stay awake twenty-two out of twenty-four hours a day, no matter how many times I duck into the hall or watch my peephole, she’s mastered the skill of being invisible.

  She’s a skilled ghost, just like I’ve trained so tirelessly to be.

  Her absence has led me to annoy even myself with the way I sulk and wish she’d throw me a bone.

  She’s just a girl. Move on, Bish, and find someone more willing to spread her legs.

  Lying on my couch and picturing hers just above – yes, I moved my couch so they’d match – I stop tossing my tennis ball into the air when my email dings and draws my attention.

  Ace and I aren’t friends. We don’t chit-chat or shoot the shit just for fun. Sometimes I’ll hear from him every day for a week, other times, like now, weeks will pass with nothing. And that’s okay too. In our dysfunctional situation, our normal is whatever the fuck we make it.

  I haven’t heard from him in a week, and the last update I got was that there was no update. He’s working on it, extrapolating information from Trenton’s phone, and in the meantime, he’s ordered me to be patient.

  Nobody ever accused me of being a patient kinda guy, and more than that, I take orders from no one, so his order to sit and chill fell on deaf ears.

  My ID might say John D. Hamilton, but my soul is thoroughly Jay Bishop, and Jay sure as shit doesn’t sit still. He doesn’t rest; he doesn’t play boardgames while he’s bored.

  Ace’s order was as useless as the thermostat attached to the wall near my front door. I don’t sit and waste time, especially not when Kane’s life is on the line, so in the time between communications, I go back over our last targets, replaying every word they spoke and every movement they made. I play it in my head and try to decipher anything I might have missed.

  I will not rest until the guns pointed at my brother’s head are lowered and the hands holding them are torn from their owner’s body.

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  From: AcesAndEights

  Subject: Peter Aguilar is a prick

  He wasn’t lying when he said it was a race to deliver first. The text tree is massive. So many players. So many fucking monsters in this world willing to hurt the innocent for a few dollars.

  Sighing and running a hand over my stubbled jaw, I hit reply.

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  From: KingOnD8

  Subject: Don’t I know it!

  I’ve met the scum that sticks to the bottom of ponds. I’ve met some of the worst of the worst. They deserve a bullet in the brain and nothing less.

  What have you got to report?

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  From: AcesAndEights

  Subject: re: Don’t I know it!

  Not a lot. I have a bunch of names, all of whom I’d like to exterminate, but they’re horizontal players. We need to level up.

  I have no names for the next level yet.

  Whoever he is has protected himself.

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  From: KingOnD8

  Subject: It’s been ages!

  Move faster, Ace! It’s March; I died in November. That’s a long-ass time to be away from my brother. You’re wearing my patience thin.

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  From: AcesAndEights

  Subject: re: It’s been ages!

  Don’t start this shit again, asshole. I work my hands raw finding this data. You think I sit in my place and count dust? You think I don’t work it around the clock? I’m invested in this too. Probably more than you are, so sit the fuck down and wait your turn.

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  From: KingOnD8

  Subject: Who hurt you?

  Two years, Ace, and you never told me why you’re doing this.

  Storytime? I’m kinda tired of working blind, so maybe it’s time we got to know each other.

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  From: AcesAndEights

  Subject: No

  Also, no.

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  From: KingOnD8

  Subject: Pussy

  Why won’t you show your face? What are you scared of? Are you ugly, or recognizable? Which is reason enough to stay hidden for two years? You think I don’t watch the locker? You never show your face while I’m watching.

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  From: AcesAndEights

  Subject: Mind your own business

  You’re stupider than I gave you credit for if you think I don’t have surveillance on that locker. I’m not coming out just because you asked me to. I have my reasons; I have my motivations, and I have my own plans.

  For now, your goal and mine match: we’re both smoking out the same rat, so we may as well collaborate. But don’t worry; the second you’re no longer useful to me…

  Narrowing my eyes at what he leaves unsaid, I stare at my screen as something niggles the back of my mind. Something is off about Ace, something slightly… different.

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  From: KingOnD8

  Subject: I’m gonna sleep at the lockers from now until I see you

  Can’t say I can let this curiosity go.

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  From: AcesAndEights

  Subject: I’ll bail and find a new soldier.

  Never forget that you need me more than I need you. You’re running blind without me, Bishop. I can find muscle everywhere I look, so don’t start thinking you’re more important than you are.

  I was emailing to let you know I’m still here. Your brother is getting antsy, but they’re trying to keep him under wraps. The update is that there is no update.

  Twiddle your thumbs for a few more days; I’m working this as fast as I can.

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  From: KingOnD8

  Subject: Why do they call you Ace?

  Tell me?

  I’m lonely and need a pal.

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  From: AcesAndEights

  Subject: re: Why do they call you Ace?

  Because I win the game, because I’m valuable, and because I’m the best. Your girlfriend just walked into the building. You’re welcome. Now fuck off and leave me alone.

  I flip my chair and sprint toward the front door, snatching up my keys as I pass. Skidding to a stop and pressing an eye to the peephole, I refuse to blink as I blindly pull my shoes on. The laces remain undone, the socks uncomfortably bunched, but I don’t give a fuck, because she’s coming up.

  I can’t see her. I can’t hear her. But my heart slams in my chest as I wait for Sophia the Wise and Peaceful to show her face for the first time in a week.

  I give it a minute because she has four flights to walk, but when one minute turns to two, then that turns into three and four, I find myself pouting and wondering if Ace lied just to get rid of me.

  That motherfucker would, too.

  I don’t want to spend the night alone. I’m a social creature; I enjoy crowds, fart jokes, and beautiful women. I enjoy eating meals and talking with intelligent people, and the fact Sophia outsmarts me each time we speak turns me on in ways wildly different than how her body affects me.

  Opening the door and pulling it shut at my back, I step to the staircase railing and lean over. “Hey, Soph? You here?”

  “Fuck.” Whispering, she slams something against the brick wall and pants loud enough, I turn to the landing and take the stairs three at a time. “Shit,” she murmurs. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.”

  I round the second flight and skid to a stop when I find her struggling beneath a tall stack of file boxe
s. She leans against the wall and cusses while she tries to balance them. They look heavy as fuck, and the top box is skewed too far to the left.

  If she moves, she’s going to lose it.

  “Jesus, Soph. What the hell are you doing?” Stepping forward, I reseat the top box so they’re all stacked securely, then I take the top two and leave her with the third.

  Sophia Solomon isn’t the kind of girl who wants to be saved. She’s not a damsel who needs all her shit carried, and if I tried, she’d shoot me in the back. So I take most of her load, but leave her with enough that she can’t reach for her gun. Turning, I wait for her to follow me up. “This is a lot of weight, Soph. How the hell did you expect to get it all upstairs yourself?”

  “I was doing just fine without you,” she grumbles. “Just pop them on the stairs, and I’ll do it in a couple loads.”

  “Not likely, Sugar Plum. I’ll help you. Come on.” Using my nose, I dislodge the lid from my top box and try to peek into the dark insides. “What’s in here, anyway?”

  “Don’t look!” Skilled, she carries her box and kicks the back of my legs until they almost buckle. “Ever heard of private? Confidential? None of your fucking business?” Moving up two steps ahead of me, she stops and turns back so we stand eye to eye. Using her nose the way I used mine, she nudges the lid back on and glowers at my chuckle. “It’s my work, and it’s not for you to look at. If you can’t respect that, then put it down and go away.”

  “But if you do this in multiple trips, how will you know I didn’t look while you were gone?”

  “You’re a jerk,” she snaps. “Why can’t you just be a regular jerk who doesn’t open doors and stares at my boobs, instead of an infuriating jerk who thinks he’s funnier than he really is?”

  “I’m funny.” Pouting, I step to the left and keep moving up the stairs. “I don’t know why you’ve gotta insult my humor. It never did anything to you.”

  “It did too much to me,” she grumbles. “All the dancer jokes.” Falling into step so our shoulders brush, we take up the whole staircase as we move up. “Is there a reason you’re here?”