Folsom

by Tarryn Fisher

  This makes Kasper’s grin stretch into a smile. “You know, you’re not nearly as dumb as you look.”

  My jaw drops at the same time as anger starts sizzling in my belly.

  “I meant that as a compliment, Gwen. The pretty ones are always the dumbest.”

  “Get to the point, Kasper,” I say between my teeth.

  “Your governor…”

  “Petite,” I say, suddenly perking up at the mention of my soon-to-be stepmother’s name.

  “Yes, Petite,” he says slowly. “She’s working for the Society. The only reason they brought Laticus here was because of what she promised them.”

  I feel a lump form in my throat and try to swallow around it. “And what exactly did she promise?”

  Kasper purses his lips, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair.

  “That, my dear Gwen, is for you to find out. Your boyfriend is defying them. The Society is grasping to regain their power with Folsom, insisting that Laticus be taken from his control.”

  “How do you know that?” I ask.

  “Knowing things is my specialty, Gwen.”

  He stands up and I toss the blanket aside and scoot out of bed.

  “Where are you going?” I follow him to my bedroom door. He turns around suddenly and I’m uncomfortably close to him.

  “You’re already pregnant, Gwen! There’s nothing I can do for you.”

  I resist the urge to punch him in his cocky, arrogant face. “You said you had a message for Folsom,” I say, exasperated.

  “Oh, yes.” He’s taunting me and I hate it. “It seems that the Canadians don’t agree with our methods. They focus more on research rather than whoring out their men. If Folsom can get the boy to the Green Region, we can get him across the border. Something to think about,” he says.

  He’s about to walk out the door when he suddenly turns back.

  “Here.” He places something in my hand. “When Folsom wants to move forward with the plan, all he needs to do is push that button.”

  I look over the small black clip with the switch clicked off. It looks sort of like the devices we use at work, but sleek.

  “We’ll handle the rest.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “You don’t like Folsom.”

  He raises his eyebrows.

  “Why are you helping him?”

  “That’s between me and your boyfriend,” he says.

  I contemplate calling Folsom to tell him about Kasper’s visit, but the thought that anyone could be bugging our devices makes me set my Silverbook down. No, I have to tell him in person. Kasper said that my soon-to-be stepmother is involved. I glance at my Silverbook lying beside me on the bed with new suspicion. Would she? Could she? I feel sick. Since I can’t sleep, I decide to distract myself instead. I message the team about taking Laticus outside tomorrow and look up Charity’s ID number. There’s not much about her online, but she seems to check out. She and her mother live downtown. I make a note to ask around about her tomorrow. I’d just feel better if I knew a little more about her.

  On my drive to work the next morning, I see even more protesters than yesterday, a few silver-haired men are scattered through them. Their cries are louder, their expressions more severe. There are news vehicles parked down the street, reporters aiming their cameras at the protest. I go so slowly to read all the signs that I almost miss the girl getting in the car parked next to me. Genevieve, Governor Petite’s aid, pulls behind me. I don’t think either of them notices me, and I look in the rearview mirror once more to be sure. Charity is sitting next to Genevieve, talking with her hands going every direction, and looking very different from the demure girl I saw in Laticus’ room.

  NINETEEN

  FOLSOM

  For the next week, appointments fill my days. It’s an endless cycle of women and sex, questions about my health, and late, lonely nights back at the End Men compound. With the permission of the Society and recommendation of my doctor, my appointments are capped at two a day, during which time I abstain from drinking and only use the pills when absolutely necessary. The Society also deems the lottery as a risk and the weekly drawings are suspended from my stay in the Red indefinitely. I haven’t spoken to Gwen in days, having tried to connect with her, only to have her tell me that she’d prefer to talk to me in person.

  On the eighth day, I arrive at the Villanova house late in the evening. The estate sits on ten acres of rolling, green land outside the bustle of the city. My appointment is with their daughter and is to be followed by a party. The girl is a friend of Gwen’s sister, Sophia; I recognize her from the night of the last party.

  “Langley,” she says, kissing me lightly on each cheek. Before I can respond, a toddler comes barreling into the room and grabs me by the leg.

  “Are you my daddy?” she asks, looking up at me. She has Langley’s red hair and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose.

  “Ah, Folsom, meet my niece, Beatriz.” She looks down at the little girl. “No, B, this is not your daddy. Your daddy’s name is Jackal.”

  “Like the aminal,” she agrees.

  I crouch down on my haunches and look into the little girl’s face. “I know your daddy,” I tell her. “He’s my friend.”

  It’s the first time I’ve ever announced my friendship with Jackal, and saying it out loud gives me a sense of pride. She smiles so big her eyes disappear and then she runs off, her fiery hair trailing behind her.

  “We’re hoping to give her a cousin.” Langley smiles. “Preferably a male one.”

  “It’s safer to be born a girl,” I say.

  Langley frowns, a practiced gesture she’s perfected. “But where’s the glory in that?”

  It strikes me then that Langley is the competitive type. With both her friend and Gwen pregnant, she won’t be outdone.

  “Twins would be ideal,” she says. “Boy twins.”

  I flinch at the idea and Langley’s laughter fills the room. “They run in my family,” she tells me. “You don’t have to worry about me, Folsom.” She runs a finger along my jaw. “I’m no novice when it comes to men. I’ve had Jackal—a few times actually. Unfortunately our coupling didn’t end in pregnancy.” She frowns at that part and I wonder how hard she took it when her sister got pregnant and she didn’t. I’d seen female disappointment turn into anger; it was a gale of accusations and blame.

  After some light conversation, we make our way up to her bedroom where she offers me the obligatory drink. I accept it this time and wait in a chair while she mixes it. I expect her to take a different seat, but instead she straddles me, her own drink in her hand.

  “I’ve heard that you can’t strain yourself,” she says, rubbing her free hand along my chest.

  “We can do it like this…”

  She puts on quite a show. Eventually I have to close my eyes or I’ll laugh. She does this thing with her mouth that she intends to be sexy, but it’s more like a horse baring its teeth. I’ll have to ask Jackal if he remembers her.

  “Look at me,” she cries out.

  I ignore her and nearly tell her to stop talking. I picture Gwen and wish I could suck her top lip right now. My dick pulses and I go faster, imagining it’s her warmth that I’m fucking. Langley’s braying brings me back to reality, but I’m close enough that I power through it.

  She leans down and kisses me, still breathing hard. “That was incredible,” she purrs.

  I open my eyes and now all I see is the horse face. I smile. “You should lie down. I’ll go get cleaned up. When is everyone arriving?”

  “Oh, they’re here already.” She runs her fingers through my hair. “I’ll join you in the shower,” she says against my mouth.

  I back away. “Go lie down.” My tone leaves no room for argument.

  “Fine.”

  She pouts as she climbs off of me then walks backward to the bed, rubbing her nipples. I walk to the bathroom and when she tries to get in with me a few minutes later, I rinse and turn the shower off.

  �
�I don’t think that time took,” she whispers, palming my dick. “This time it will.”

  I brush her hand off and step out of the shower. Her arms wrap around my chest and I turn around to face her, pulling her hands off of me.

  “I’ve fulfilled my contract and now I need you to back off and be respectful of my space.”

  Her mouth drops and her eyes spit fire. “Sounds like someone is an entitled bastard. Are you really buying into what all those protesters are saying? You think you have rights?” She laughs.

  I put on my suit as Langley lies on the bed, striking another pose. If I grabbed her ass right now, she’d still beg me to fuck her, angry or not.

  “Jackal was better,” she says.

  I nod. “That’s because he enjoys it.”

  It is my duty to be charming to these women, have them believe I enjoy their sex and their company. But my patience is worn thin, and my mind is preoccupied with worry.

  We make our way downstairs together, her arm clasped possessively through mine like we’re a couple descending on our guests. And that’s exactly what we walk right into, at least two hundred of Langley’s guests, all sipping champagne and beaming up at us like we’re the bride and groom. It’s not lost on me that she chose an ivory dress, or that she has her hair braided, the long coil of it thrown over her shoulder and threaded with tiny white flowers, a customary style for brides. We near the bottom of the stairs and I see a familiar face in the crowd. I immediately jerk my arm from Langley’s grasp. Gwen looks from Langley to me, a wounded expression on her face. I want to go to her, but people are saying my name and asking me questions. I catch her eyes, trying to communicate what I’m feeling. She turns and walks away.

  Governor Petite finds me several minutes later. She has Gwen’s mother on her arm and is looking pleased with herself.

  “Hope you’re enjoying the party, Folsom.” She clinks glasses with me. “You remember Diana, of course,” she says of Gwen’s mother. I incline my head and Diana Allison smiles.

  “Ah, here she is!” the governor says. I turn to see Langley approaching from behind. “I don’t know of anyone more deserving of a baby than our Langley. She runs all of the Red’s charity events and still finds time to volunteer at the home for the elderly. She’s truly the best of us.”

  I glance at Langley, who blushes right on cue and leans in to give Petite a feminine kiss on each cheek. If Langley is the best, I don’t want to meet their worst.

  “Congratulations on your engagement,” Langley says, addressing them both. “The wedding! I’m so excited for the wedding!” She clasps her hands together like a little girl as the two women smile on.

  “Congratulations to you both,” I say.

  The smile clings uneasily to Diana’s mouth, never reaching her eyes. Gwen appears behind her mother, and I break out into an easy smile.

  “Mother of my son,” I say, cheerfully. Gwen blushes all the way to her roots as she blinks at me.

  “Hope that’s water you’re drinking.” I wink.

  Diana lets go of Petite to place an arm around her youngest daughter’s shoulders.

  “It’s sparkling actually, your son refuses to let me eat.”

  I feel the eyes on us as people turn to watch our exchange. Petite’s smile has stiffened and I can feel Langley’s rage from beside me.

  “Hopefully there will be more sons soon,” Langley says, leaning toward me. “We certainly had fun trying to make one…”

  Gwen quickly looks away, and I have the urge to tell her just how un-enjoyable it was for me, when Governor Petite taps her glass and calls out, “I’d like to make a toast!”

  The room falls silent as everyone turns our way. Gwen glances at me, widening her eyes. I tilt my head to the side in question just as Petite begins to speak.

  “First, I’d like to acknowledge our host, Langley Starter. We are all honored to share this exciting day with you. And though we don’t have the results yet, we trust that Folsom’s aim was true.”

  Langley beams as everyone stares awkwardly at her flat belly. It’s like they’re willing the child there.

  “I’d like to raise a toast to Folsom. Our End Man, who in just a few weeks has renewed the Red Region’s hope with the promise of three children!”

  A cheer goes up among the guests, and I wonder idly who the third is. The lottery winner, I hope. At least that night wouldn’t be a complete fuck up. It’s when she continues speaking that a chill runs down my back. I clutch the glass of bourbon I’m holding tighter as she continues.

  “Folsom, you live a most glamorous life. The Regions sing your praise wherever you go. You are a god among us,” her voice takes a more somber tone, “and yet you’ve chosen to be here with us, and not only that, you’ve chosen for your eldest son, Laticus, to be here as well. You bring us great honor.”

  There is a murmur of surprise around the room at the mention of Laticus’ name. I grow warm underneath my suit, my limbs prickling with anger.

  “Thank you for your dedication to the End Men, for your service to the Regions. And for your son.” She ends and there’s a round of applause so loud I can’t hear my own thoughts.

  I feel Gwen’s fingers dig into my arm and she leans up on her tiptoes to whisper in my ear.

  “Come with me. We need to talk.”

  TWENTY

  GWEN

  I move quickly to the courtyard, Folsom following at a distance. Chandeliers light the way, but I find a dark area near the private lake on the property. Most are inside, just a few stragglers here and there, and I watch Folsom duck behind a tree when he sees a woman walk by. I laugh at how fast he dodges her.

  He’s smiling when he gets closer and I want to take him by the arm and drag him away from this place, away from this life. His expression clears, almost as if he can read my thoughts. I wonder what he wants, his deepest desires that have been shoved down and forgotten.

  I don’t know what to do with my hands, if he wants to be touched right now or needs his space. It was easy between us when I saw him last, but it’s been over a week and he’s slept with how many women since then? I’ve tried not to think about each and every one.

  He reaches down and takes me by the hand and it feels sweet, shy almost.

  “How are—” We both start at the same time then laugh.

  I want to cringe at the awkwardness, but then he steps forward and wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight against him. And I breathe. I’ve missed him. I didn’t want to…I needed a break from all the feelings…but I needed this so much more.

  “Have you been hiding from me?” he asks.

  “What? No,” I say into his shoulder. “It’s just been busy,” I falter, hating how nervous I sound. “I’ve been staying at work most nights. Folsom, the governor’s speech…”

  “I know,” he says. “She’s trying to discredit what you said, making it sound like I enjoy this life.”

  “I think they put her up to it, the Society.”

  He nods. “You’re probably right. They’re trying to contain what you started.”

  “I haven’t wanted to call,” I tell him. “I’m worried the Silverbooks are bugged. And there’s something I need to tell you about Laticus…”

  He pulls away, both hands gripping my arms. “What’s going on with Laticus?”

  “There’s this girl. I don’t trust her. She stays after her shift and Laticus definitely likes her. I saw her in the car with Governor Petite’s assistant, I don’t—”

  “Have you talked to him about her?” he interrupts.

  “I’ve just tried to make sure they’re not alone too long. I’ve become the third wheel. Listen though,” I look around to make sure we’re still alone, “we probably don’t have much time. I need to tell you—Kasper came to see me.”

  Folsom’s hands drop and he stares at me incredulously. “Kasper.” He flinches, voice deadly. “Start at the beginning.”

  I falter at his tone but then take a deep breath and talk as quickly as I c
an. “He says the Canadians are sympathetic to the End Men. They’re willing to help. He thinks you need to get Laticus to the Green Region and over the border. Soon. He says the Black Region will erupt when word gets out about Laticus being taken, which will be any day. Oh, and he confirmed that Governor Petite is working with the Society. He gave me a device.” I shake my head in frustration. “God, I can’t believe I don’t have it with me—I’ve been too distracted over Laticus. I’ll bring it the next time I see you. Kasper will help us, Folsom.”

  He turns, hands going to his head, and moves to the door of the gate, pounding it four or five times, hard, until the hinge breaks and it hangs skewed. When he turns around, his eyes are distant. I move to look at his hands and he holds one up, stopping me in mid-step.

  “You’re just now telling me all of this?”

  If I didn’t see his jaw ticking, I’d think he was calm. I swallow hard.

  “Take me to him. Now,” he says.

  “We can’t just leave the party.” I put my hand on his arm. “Folsom, look at me. They’ll come after you. Let’s think about this.”

  “I’ll deal with them when the time comes. I need to see Laticus.”

  I don’t argue anymore but lead him along the water until there’s an opening in the trees. My car is parked half a block from the house and when we reach the street, we only have a few feet left to walk. The house is shining like a beacon at the end of the street. Cars line each side of the pavement and the streetlamps flicker in the night sky. If only everything were as serene as it looks.

  My car feels tiny with Folsom filling it up. I still get a rush being near him, even when he’s angry, or whatever this is that feels like rage hopping off of him. I really want to know what the deal is between him and Kasper, but I know this isn’t the time to ask.

  I speed the ten miles to Genome Y, neither of us speaking, and when we’re within range of the guard, I flash my badge. The guard flashes her light on Folsom and he stares ahead as if he visits Genome Y like this every night, nothing out of the ordinary.