I stood up and stretched.
“Watch my bag?” I asked Salinger.
“Sure,” he said, hefting it onto his shoulder. “Ready?”
“Not really,” I told him.
He smiled at me and shook his head. “Nah, you are ready. Tell your heart to catch up with your head.” He turned toward the door. “Come on.”
I followed him out and met his stride. When we reached the hall doors, Salinger kissed my cheek and whispered good luck to me. He went inside without looking back and I watched him climb the stairs to the observation decks. My fingertips went to the skin his lips had kissed. My whole body shivered. I brought my hands down and in front of my face. I studied them. They shook and I forgot everything around me.
I looked up at him, at his profile, at his stunning face, and it shone brighter than anyone’s in that room. He resonated something in me and my eyes began to burn. I brought my trembling hands to my eyes and felt moisture. He was so beautiful inside and out.
Why do I want him so, so much?
“Miss Hahn?” an official asked me.
I shook my head. “Um, yes?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
“They’re waiting for you,” he said, gesturing to the table.
Peter Aurek already sat there, his gaze turned away from me.
“So sorry,” I whispered and started to walk forward.
Time seemed to stand still as I entered the hall. I felt hundreds of eyes on me, flashes of bulbs, and small cheers from the crowd, but I could only feel them. My eyes went straight for Salinger and stayed there. He leaned on the railing behind my assigned chair, ran a hand through his hair, letting it settle on the back of his neck, and smiled at me.
A tight ball of tension rooted itself in my stomach and refused to budge. His small gesture, his small encouragement. His small kiss. It had done something to me, uprooted any feelings I’d desperately tried to bury. They were coming up with or without my permission to show me they were in control.
I’d never felt anything like that my entire life, that sort of incitement. It burned through every cell of my body. I fought the urge to crawl up the deck wall, jump the railing, and touch Salinger just to know what he felt like in that instant, as if every instant was a missed opportunity, as if every instant might prove something different, as if every instant my skin didn’t know his was an instant to mourn.
My hands found my forehead and pushed my hair from my face.
What is happening to me?
I felt both profoundly sad and profoundly happy at once.
I looked up at him, my breaths coming fast. His brow furrowed in question.
He leaned over the railing. “Lily?” he whispered. My hands found my stomach and knotted the shirt there. “Are you okay?”
I couldn’t answer him. I wanted to, but I was rooted there, unable to move.
“It’s all right,” he soothed. “Close your eyes. Forget the room,” he coached. “Play for fun.”
He didn’t understand what was happening to me. He didn’t know I couldn’t care less for the room, couldn’t care less about the game, how I understood in that moment I’d give up every single piece on that board just for him to touch my skin once more. He didn’t understand how dangerous he was to me.
I shook my head as clear as I could get it and begged myself to remember why I was there, begged myself to remember my sisters. I fell into my chair and Peter Aurek finally glanced my direction. He slowly perused me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes before meeting my eyes. His eyes fell hooded, a slight smile on his face. He looked like he would either eat me for breakfast or offer to make it instead, but was torn between both. It was meant to intimidate me.
I looked up at the ceiling, sat up straight, cleared my head, then met his gaze again.
I’ll be doing all the eating this evening, Aurek.
“Good luck,” I told him over the board.
“I won’t need it,” he cleverly replied, and made the first move.
I moved my first piece and recorded it and he followed suit.
“You’re very pretty,” he whispered to me just low enough I wasn’t sure the officials even took notice, unless they didn’t care. I couldn’t tell.
I didn’t respond to him except to move my next piece. The room was quiet, but the spectators were so far away, I knew they couldn’t hear him.
“Trying to join the club, are you?” he asked, moving his next piece and recording it.
I bristled in my chair but didn’t respond. I moved again.
“I heard this is your first tournament?” he asked. I looked up at him and stared hard. This made him grin at me. “Interesting.”
I cleared my throat.
“You really are a novelty, aren’t you?” he asked, but I was certain he wasn’t looking for an answer. “I take back what I said about your being pretty. I was wrong. You’re quite beautiful, to be honest.” He imperceptibly leaned forward. “Is that how you won all those other rounds? You distracted your opponents?”
I moved my next piece after his.
He smiled again, biting his bottom lip as he did so.
“I bet that’s it,” he needled. “Like lichen on rock, you’re beautiful to look at but don’t really belong.”
I winced because that stung.
“Where do I belong then?” I whispered back as he made his next move.
He stared at the board but lifted his brow when I spoke to him. I’d shocked him by replying, I thought.
“Maybe you belong in my bed,” he commented, still staring at the board. I felt my cheeks flush and he looked at me. “What do you say?” he asked, showing a snake’s smile.
I ignored him and made my next move.
We volleyed back and forth on the board while he played his own game above the board. What he didn’t realize, though, is I had already won. I knew his game, all his games. I knew the moment he’d grown silent he’d noticed his mistake.
“So quiet,” I whispered his direction.
Cold, intense eyes met mine, but I smiled as kindly as I could at him. His face was wiped of all confidence.
He scrambled his pieces in a desperate attempt to salvage his game.
“Aww, wee lamb,” I teased.
When I had him, he sat back in his chair, his hands going to his head in disbelief.
I stood, walked over to him, and leaned down at his ear. “Checkmate,” I whispered.
When I stood back up, he stared at me. I winked at him and his mouth dropped open.
A small but substantial roar began from the crowd and built into a giant one. People jumped up and down and clapped. I turned when I remembered Salinger and saw him standing there, his arms crossed. He was shaking his head back and forth, fighting a giant smile.
I faced Aurek again, laid my arm across his shoulder, and whispered once more in his ear. “I can tell your lack of respect for me is a product of the power women hold over you, so let me let you in on a secret, pawn. Humility. Humility and kindness. Try it on and the good ones will come your way, I promise.” I stood up and smiled at him. “Good game,” I told him. I left him there in his chair with his mouth still agape.
I saw Salinger near the hall doors and started to sprint toward him but stopped short when someone blocked my way.
“Miss Hahn,” Tao Zhang greeted. He was only an inch or so taller than I was, but he was a formidable figure.
“Mr. Zhang,” I greeted in return.
“You know me,” he more stated than asked.
“I do.”
“You played well.”
“Thank you,” I told him.
“I hope to see you at Nationals.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I won’t be at Nationals.”
He looked shocked. He placed his hands in his pants pockets. “Just as well,” he said, “you’d never win against me anyway.”
I rolled my eyes. Oh my God, what is up with these chess boys?
�
��Yeah, okay, anyway, if you’ll excuse me?”
He smiled and backed out of my way. I felt his eyes on my back as I walked away then ran straight into Salinger’s arms.
“I won,” I whispered into his neck.
“Told you,” he said, hugging me tight.
He set me down.
“Excuse me, Miss Lily?” I heard behind me.
I turned to discover the two boys from earlier that morning, the ones who’d asked for Salinger’s signature.
“Can I get your autograph?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
WHEN WE GOT BACK HOME, I was riding high from my win. I paid the roofer the following Monday the down payment and set up a payment plan with him, just in case I didn’t win or even placed at the Richmond tournament, and they said they’d start work that Friday. Salinger helped me take pictures of what we’d done with the house to show the judge. I took extra pictures of the girls’ room so they could see for themselves how different it looked since they’d last viewed the house’s progress.
Salinger and I got back to our night shift at the market. I guess Salinger had told the night crew I’d won and when we’d shown up for work, they had a little cake there for me to celebrate.
Life went as smoothly as it could possibly go, considering my predicament, and I felt I made giant strides toward getting the girls back.
The next day, the day of my court hearing, I borrowed one of Katie’s church outfits and a pair of heels, and curled my hair. I brought my phone out and texted Katie.
Off to my court hearing. Pray for me.
My phone immediately indicated a text.
Already done. Go see your sisters.
I smiled. I was aching to see my sisters. To show them how much better I was doing, to tell them about my new life’s adventure, to prove to them I could take care of them.
I closed the front door and locked it before sprinting off to my Scout but panicked when I saw I had a flat. All four tires were flat. I bent over and inspected the one closest to the driver’s seat. They weren’t flat, they were slashed. Anger flared in my chest and I kicked one of the tires. I hefted the messenger bag carrying all my paperwork onto my shoulder and brought out my phone again. I dialed Ansen.
“Lily, what’s up?”
“Trace slashed my tires. Can you give me a ride?”
“Son of a bitch. Of course,” he said.
I would have called Salinger, but I was tired of relying on him all the time. To be perfectly honest, I wanted to distance myself from him. I was starting to more than like-like him and needed that to abate. That had to go away. Also, he was always coming to my rescue, and I knew he was sacrificing part of himself to do it. He never got enough sleep and he had to push through his school assignments. I didn’t like being that kind of burden on him. I was grateful to him, though. Eternally grateful to him.
When Ansen showed up, he wanted to look at my tires, but I refused. Sylvia told me to be there an hour early and as it was, I’d only be there half an hour early.
“Do me a favor, though?” I asked him.
“Sure, kid.”
“If I give you my card and keys, will you go buy four tires for me at Henry’s?”
“Yeah, but how will we get the car there?”
“I’ll have it towed. I’ll let you know when the tow truck driver gets it. You just have to show up at Henry’s.”
“Done,” he said. “Should I come pick you up when I’m done?”
I sighed. “No, I’ll Uber it back to town and get my car.”
“That’ll cost a fortune.”
I shook my head, exasperated. “Trace is such an asshole.”
“No doubt.”
I took my phone and sent a massive group text to all our friends.
Whoever is feeding Trace information about me and where I’m going better stop. You are causing a shit load of problems for me. He slashed my tires this morning when he knew I had that court date so just stop.
I threw my phone in my bag, done with that, then remembered I needed to have the Scout towed and took it back out. I searched tow truck companies and pulled one up. A woman answered but her greeting was unintelligible.
“Hi,” I said, “do you have a flatbed tow?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, thick southern accent drawing out “ma’am.”
“I need my International Scout towed from my house to Henry’s in Bottle County, can you do that?”
“Both in Bottle County?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. It’s seventy-five dollars, that okay?”
I cringed. “Sure, pay over the phone?”
“Yes,” she said.
I gave her my card info.
“How long?” I asked.
“Within the hour.”
“Within the hour,” I repeated for Ansen’s benefit and he nodded at me. “Thanks so much.”
“Pleasure, ma’am. Thank you.”
I hung up.
“How much?” he asked.
“Seventy-five freaking dollars!”
“God, Lily.” He looked over at me. “Maybe you should report this one?” he hesitantly asked.
I looked at him. “Not yet,” I whispered.
“Why not?”
“I’m just hoping he’ll cool off and go away.”
He shook his head. “He’s obviously not, Lil.”
I let out a deep breath. “I can’t handle this.”
He looked at me sympathetically. “It’s not fair, but I think you should report him.”
“I don’t know.”
I was reluctant because I knew if I reported him, he’d come after me even worse, and Trace was far down the list.
“Listen, when I get to Henry’s, I’ll take pictures of the tires.”
“Not necess—”
“Just in case,” he interrupted. “Just in case, Lily.”
I nodded and we rode for a few minutes in silence.
“So you and Salinger?” he asked me.
I felt my face flame and tried to fight a smile.
“Stop.”
He playfully pushed my shoulder. “Dude, I really like him. He’s good to you.”
I shook my head. “Honesty time?”
“Go for it.”
“I like him, Ansen. So much.”
“Good.”
“No, it’s not good.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because he is not into me, dude.”
“Bullshit.” He looked at me like I was an idiot. “That’s not how guys work. No guy would invest this much time in a girl if he wasn’t into you.”
I shook my head. “And when you help me out?” I asked him.
“That’s different. We grew up together. We’re like siblings.”
“I know, but that’s how Salinger is, or that’s how he sees me.” Ansen looked skeptical. “I’m serious, Ansen. He said something in New Orleans, like a sort of warning to me.”
“What did he say?”
“Remember that girl Lyric from Ashleigh’s party that night?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
“That chick is in love with him.”
“Damn, what does this guy have that I don’t?” he joshed.
“Shut up. Remember Katie much?”
The look he gave me made my mouth drop. “You don’t have to remind me of Katie,” he said in the most serious tone I’d ever heard Ansen talk. “Katie is all I think about.”
Satisfied, I moved on. “That Lyric girl wouldn’t stop sweating him. I guess she professed her undying love or some shit to him and he cut ties with her. He said, and I quote, I don’t understand how hard it is to take a hint. She just couldn’t be cool.”
“And you decided to take that as a warning?”
“Yes, Ansen! That was most definitely a hint.”
Ansen rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Lily, you might be reading too much into that.”
“I don’t think so, friendo.”
He shiver
ed. “Will you stop calling me that already?” I laughed. “He was too good in that role, you know? A little too convincing.” He shivered once more and I laughed yet again.
Ansen smiled at me. “It’s good to see you smiling again.”
I sobered a little bit. “I’m starting to feel happy, Ansen, and I don’t deserve it.”
“Stop,” he whispered.
Two tears slipped down my face. “Mama’s not even cold in the ground yet, my sisters are in a stranger’s home, and I have the audacity to feel happy? How dare I indulge that part of myself?”
“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not an indulgence. It’s a right. Can’t you see what kind of person you’ve become? You’re transformed. You’ve quit drugs, got a job, revealed a pretty extraordinary talent, if I do say so myself, fixed up your house, and are fighting to get your sisters back. If you don’t have the right to feel happy, then I don’t know who does.”
I shook my head and stared at my lap as the tears fell on my hands. “How can I feel happy when our mother is gone?”
“You’re confusing the feelings, goofball. You’re not happy because your mother is gone. The grief you feel for the loss of your mom and the happiness you experience because you’re becoming a person worthy of happiness is mutually exclusive. You’re allowed to know happiness and sadness all at once, Lily. It’s a part of real life.”
“Maybe,” I whispered, but I wasn’t entirely convinced.
“Anyway,” he said as we pulled up to the courthouse, “tell your sisters Ansen says hi and that he loves them.”
I smiled at him. “I will.”
I handed him my card and my keys and squeezed his hand as I slid out of his car.
“Thanks, moron.”
“You’re welcome, dummy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“YOU’RE LATE,” Sylvia whispered to me when I entered the courthouse.
“So sorry,” I told her, without explaining why.
I knew telling her about the things Trace had done couldn’t possibly help my case, nor would it endear her to me. I’m an ex-drug addict who had shifted her life, yes, but she’d probably seen hundreds of dysfunctional people make changes only to fall right back into dysfunction. Excuses probably weren’t tolerated, and I wouldn’t blame her. So I kept my mouth shut.
IDLE: Book Four of The Seven Deadly Series Page 18
