The Fabulist

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The Fabulist Page 18

by Dawn L. Chiletz


  I rush to Carmen. “We have one hour to make sure you stay. We need to get to Sarge. We might be able to turn him. Maybe I can use my newfound fake relationship with DJ to make him vote our way too, then we—”

  She interrupts. “Did you see the way he looked at me?”

  A slow smile spreads across my face. “I did.”

  “I think you may be right. Maybe there is something there.”

  Touching her hand, I say, “There most definitely is.”

  Maria and Brenda approach us. I’m surprised by Brenda’s presence. She’s supposed to be playing both sides. As if she can read my thoughts, she says, “We both know I’m a bad liar. I’m not going to pretend to be with them when I’d rather hang with you.”

  “What’s our plan?” Maria asks, rubbing her hands together.

  Studying the room, I see High-Rise still leaning on the bishop. We make eye contact and he doesn’t flinch. I hate that I’m the first to look away. “We need to get as many of them on our side as possible, starting with him.”

  TRULY BELIEVING HIGH-RISE might be swayed, I start toward him. DJ steps directly in my path. “Hey, we need to talk.”

  “Not right now, I’m busy.”

  “Meet me at our spot in ten,” he whispers as I swerve around him.

  “Do you have a minute?” I ask High-Rise.

  “Sure. What’s got your goat, Sam?”

  “The way I see it, you and I are probably the strongest two players in the group.”

  “I might agree with that.”

  “Wouldn’t it make sense for us to stick together?”

  He cocks his head to the side to regard me. “You want me to vote for Carmen.”

  “I do.”

  “And tell me why I should do that?”

  The ubiquitous camera shifts to get a better angle on my face. I try to act as if it doesn’t exist, but it’s irritating me. “What do you want from me?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I’ll vote for Carmen if I can cash in on a favor later.”

  I eye him skeptically. “What kind of favor?”

  “I’m not going to ask you to be immoral or lose a challenge or anything, but at some point, you may have information I need and I’ll expect you to be honest with me. It’s that simple.”

  “I won’t betray anyone for you,” I tell him firmly.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

  I stare at him for a moment then scan the room until my eyes land on Carmen. Her eyes are downtrodden but her ever-present smile is as bright as ever. “Fine.” I feel as if I’ve made a deal with the devil.

  Keeping my promise, I reluctantly meet DJ by the elevators.

  He paces as he attempts to tie his long hair into a ponytail. I take a steadying breath as I approach. “There you are. We need to talk about this.” He motions back and forth between us.

  Even though it’s late, I’m thinking clearly. I’m able to keep a straight face. “Are you still siding with him?”

  “You mean Carter?”

  I nod and furrow my brow with fake concern.

  He sighs and cups my face. “I have to, babe.”

  I push his hand away. “He hates me, DJ. How can you do this to me?”

  “I can’t let on that I’m with you. Not yet.”

  “I’m starting to think you never will.” I cross my arms.

  “Maybe you should give me some incentive,” he says, stepping forward and pulling my waist until I crash into him.”

  My gut instinct is to knee him in the balls and slam his head to the floor. I control myself. My gut is firing warning signals to my brain. “What are you suggesting?”

  “We have twenty minutes. That’s plenty of time.”

  “For what?”

  He raises his eyebrows. “For a quick trip back to my room.”

  My disgust for him grows with every passing second. His eyes are searching mine. I’ve seen that look on his face before. He’s testing me. I go rigid and forcefully push on his chest. “Not if you were the last man in the universe.”

  He shakes his head. “Did you think I bought your sudden crush on me for one second?” he asks. “How dumb do you think I am?”

  “Dumb enough to think I bought any of this alliance bullshit from the start. It’s clear to me you’ve been using me all along.”

  “Actually, I wasn’t sure what I was doing until I figured out your little game. Carter and Courtney are pissed you tried to trick them too. If you thought they hated you before, you should see what they have planned now.”

  “I don’t give a shit about Carter and Courtney.” Ooh. I used their names.

  “I think we both know who has the power. Carmen is going down.”

  “Fuck you. You’re a waste of my time.” I stomp away from him, thankful I never have to pretend with him again. Finding my group, I advise them High-Rise is with us. I don’t tell them I made a deal with him. They don’t need to know. “DJ is a dim-wit. He’s out and I’m glad. We don’t want someone like him on our side. We can’t trust him.”

  “If we have Thomas, then it will be four against four,” Maria adds.

  Brenda smiles reassuringly. “Carmen, you may just have a shot here.”

  Her eyes shine briefly, but as soon as no one is looking, that brightness fades.

  Just before the vote, I pull her aside. “What’s going on, Carmen?”

  “Nothing. Everything is going to be fine.” She’s trying to be positive and hide how scared she is, but I know her too well. “Even if I have to go home, it’ll be okay.”

  The tears in her eyes break me. “You’re not going home. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  “You can’t always save me, Sam.”

  “Sam, Carmen? We’re waiting on you,” Bryce says almost apologetically.

  I swallow hard as negative thoughts invade my mind. What if High-Rise lied to me?

  “One more thing,” Carmen says, holding my hand. “Don’t forget all the stuff we studied. Don’t forget to be careful. Trust no one. And most importantly, make sure you win!”

  “We have a tie,” The Fabulist announces. My heart leaps for a moment. “That means it’s up to me. Decisions, decisions....”

  I hope we’ll take another break or maybe he’ll ask them each a few questions, but he immediately continues.

  “The next person eliminated from the game is….” The lights dance between them, landing on… “Carmen Moran. You have been captured by the lie. Checkmate. Your game is over.” The screen goes dark.

  I gasp loudly and cover my mouth. Carmen turns to face us and she smiles brightly, her sunshine personality glowingly present.

  “I’m sorry, Carmen,” Bryce says softly as he rubs her back gently. “I’m going to have to ask you to pack your bags. We will certainly miss you around here. It won’t be the same without you.”

  “I’ll miss you too, Bryce. Thanks for everything. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

  Bryce smiles back at her. “I sure hope so.”

  Carmen steps off the board, and Courtney flies into Carter’s arms. I realize I know their names, and the sound of them in my brain makes my blood boil. I will make sure they get what’s coming to them if it’s the last thing I do.

  Carmen’s eyes flash to me and she smiles. My eyes water. I won’t do it. I can’t cry—not here. As she leaves the boardroom and the game, I feel her loss immediately. I glance over to Hogan, but the sadness he’s reflecting back to me makes it worse rather than better. Avoiding losing control, I focus on my anger. I will figure out a way to get revenge for Carmen. Knowing The Fabulist voted her off makes me want to hate him, but then I realize it’s just business to him, no emotion. He doesn’t know her the way I do.

  The room begins to clear. Still in my seat and having no desire to move, I watch everyone leave. Bryce is one of the last to go. “Are you okay?” he asks, gently touching my shoulder.

  “I’ll be fine. Thank you for being so nice to her.”

  “It was easy.�
��

  I sigh as the lights fade lower. Standing, I make my way over to the king chess piece, running my fingers over the curves and ridges, and staring up at the cross on top. Turning to lean on it, Hogan catches my eye. He’s still filming. I forgot I’m never really alone. It’s late and I decide I’d better go to bed. It’s been a long, crazy day.

  As we leave the boardroom, I hear rain pounding the windows and see a flash of lightning. It’s storming outside, just like it is inside me. The boardroom must almost be soundproof, because I didn’t hear a thing. Hogan follows me to the elevator and we step inside. I push three and the doors close. He doesn’t set the camera down this time, so I take it he doesn’t want to chat tonight. It’s good, because I don’t think I do either.

  The lights flicker briefly and then wham. It’s pitch black and the elevator comes to a screeching halt. The emergency power kicks on, but the elevator doesn’t move. The lights are bright enough to make out the elevator panel but not much else.

  “You okay, Sam?” he asks, reaching out for me.

  “Yeah, you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Let me call them and tell them we’re here.” Hogan picks up the phone. “Hi, we’re in the elevator and the power’s out. I see. Two of us. We’re fine. Between floors two and three.” He pauses. “I understand. Thanks.”

  He places the phone back inside the elevator panel. “There are some bad storms passing through. The entire block is out. We may be stuck here awhile.”

  I sigh and lean against the wall. “This night just keeps getting better and better.”

  The light from the camera illuminates the room as Hogan lifts it to his shoulder.

  “Please tell me you’re not going to film me stuck in here. Can’t the other camera do that?” I ask, pointing at the ceiling.

  “If the power’s out, then so are all the cameras that aren’t running on battery. If I don’t film you, we have nothing.”

  “So have nothing,” I half-ask, half-beg.

  “Herman will be pissed. I bet he’s already searching for me. He knows nothing about the technical stuff.”

  I slide down to the floor. “Let him be pissed.”

  Hogan stares at me for a moment before turning off the camera and dropping it to the floor. It’s near-dark once again. “You’ve had a really rough day, haven’t you?”

  I attempt to gaze up at him, but I can barely make out his face. “I’m trying to say yes with my eyes, but I can’t see you, so I’m guessing you can’t see me.”

  He moves to my side of the elevator and slides down next to me. The small amount of light from the emergency box makes it a bit easier to see his face. “Better?”

  “Yes.” He’s sitting so close, I could touch him. “Does this mean I have you all alone without a camera until the elevator is fixed?”

  He grins. “It does. Whatever will you do with me?”

  My heart starts a new rhythm. His proximity and his words set my skin on fire. “Is it hot in here?” I ask, waving my face.

  “Actually, it is. If the power’s out, so’s the air. It’s best we’re on the floor where it’s cooler. The light from the camera would help us see, but I’m afraid it’ll just make it hotter in here than it already is.”

  “It is very hot in here,” I state as I stare into his eyes. They’re even more warm and inviting than I thought they were before.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

  “About what?” I immediately assume he wants to discuss his eyes.

  “Carmen. I know you’re hurting.”

  Rubbing my forehead, I close my eyes. “It was that obvious, huh?”

  “It was to me. I don’t know about everyone else, but their job isn’t to stare at you. I think watching every wrinkle of your nose and gleam in your eye for the last few days has given me insight into who you are.”

  “Oh, really? Why don’t you tell me all about who you think I am?” I ask, turning slightly to face him.

  He shakes his head. “No, no. That’s not what I meant. I’m not picking a fight with you tonight when I have nowhere to run.”

  I laugh lightly. “I’m not picking a fight. I really want to know what it is you think you know about me. Tell me.” I’m completely sincere. I haven’t raised my voice once. If he knows me so well, he should be able to tell the difference.

  “Well, let’s see. What do I know about Samantha Wittaker?” He crosses his legs at his ankles and then crosses his arms as well. His head turns in my direction. “You’re smart. Not just book smart, but people smart. It’s as if you see through people somehow. You understand them so well, it almost makes me think you can read minds.”

  “That would be really scary for you, wouldn’t it? If I could read your mind?”

  “You have no idea.” He laughs deeply and it makes me smile.

  “You have the best laugh,” I tell him.

  “Do I? Ahh, I bet you say that to all the guys.”

  “I guess you would know, since you’re on to me. What else do you think you have figured out?”

  He scratches his nose. “Let’s see. You’re quick-witted when you get angry or backed into a corner and you’re not afraid to stand up to anyone, even if they’re twice your size. There’s a part of me that wonders if you could take me down.”

  “I probably could. We can explore that later. What else?” I question, rolling my neck.

  “Hmm… You don’t like to show emotion. Ever. I’m guessing you think it makes you appear weak.”

  My mouth goes slack. He does know me. I bite my lip and turn my head away from him.

  “And you don’t like to admit your wrong, but you will if you feel like you’ve crossed a line.”

  I swallow hard.

  “You’re loyal to a fault. You go with your gut, always. And you play by your own rules.”

  “Okay, I’ve heard enough,” I say, pushing to my feet. “Are we ever going to get out of here?” I ask, gazing up at the ceiling.

  Hogan pushes up from the floor as well. “And… when you start to feel something you don’t want to feel, you clam up, change the subject, or adorably stop speaking altogether. Mostly because you’re at a loss for words.”

  I turn toward him with my hands on my hips. “I’m not changing the subject. It’s just been a while and I don’t hear thunder anymore.”

  “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

  “Of course not. It’s just, well. You seem to think you know so much about me, yet I know next to nothing about you.”

  He places a toothpick from his pocket in his mouth. “Ask away. What do you want to know?”

  I slide down on my butt again and he follows. I slip off my heels and he gazes down at my legs as I move, before running his hand through his dark hair.

  I stare at him for a moment.

  He meets my eyes and smirks. “I’m waiting,” he says impatiently.

  “I’m thinking,” I respond in the same tone. “What’s up with the toothpicks?” I ask, pointing to his mouth.

  He reaches up and removes it. “Habit, I suppose. I started chewing on them about ten years ago. I’ve cut back, but sometimes I don’t even know I’m doing it.”

  “Why did you start?”

  He sighs, shifting his body slightly, and the angle allows me to see him more easily in the glow from the emergency box. “When I was in my early twenties and just before I figured out what I wanted to do with my life, I was a bouncer in a bar. I put in a lot of hours and found myself there even when I wasn’t scheduled, always with a drink in my hand. Too many drinks. I started thinking I needed a drink first thing when I woke up in the morning.

  I curl my legs under me and turn to face him. I’m soaking up information about him like a sponge.

  “One night when I was bouncing and shit-faced, I got into a fight with a patron. He pulled a knife and cut me.” He turns his head to the side and I remember the small scar I saw before. “I was lucky a cop was in the bar that night. He pulled the guy off o
f me before he killed me. I was so drunk, I couldn’t defend myself. It was an eye-opener. So I started avoiding alcohol. When I would want a drink, I’d chew on a toothpick instead.”

  “So when you’re chewing on them, it’s because you still feel like you need one?”

  “Not so much anymore. It’s actually something I do randomly.”

  “Hmm.” I gaze at his mouth and wonder what it would be like to be his toothpick.

  “I still avoid alcohol, though. Even though I haven’t had a drink in years, I try to stay away from places where it’s free flowing so I don’t tempt myself.”

  I snap my fingers and point at him. He stirs, then laughs. “I almost felt like I needed to jump and run for a minute.”

  Having no idea what he’s referring to, I search his eyes for meaning. Then I remember the snap with DJ and how I’d done it to avoid him. I get to my knees and sit on my heels. “Oh my God, you were hysterical. I think I have you trained.”

  “You do. From here on out, I’ll feel the need to bolt from DJ every time you snap your fingers.”

  “Should I desensitize you?” I ask, snapping my fingers repeatedly.

  “I don’t think that’ll be enough.” He crosses his feet at his ankles again and for some reason I find it strangely hot.

  Laughing, I add, “I guess now people can say if I snap my fingers, you jump for me.”

  “I would have done that before tonight.”

  I’m glad it’s dark, because I feel heat in my cheeks. “Anyway, I snapped my fingers just now because I remembered wondering why you rarely filmed in the bar. Now it makes sense.”

  He huffs. “You really do pay attention to everything, don’t you?”

  “I try.” I shrug.

  His hand brushes through his hair again and I suddenly feel even hotter than I did before.

  I stand again to get away from him. “It’s getting warmer in here.”

  “I’d have to agree.” He doesn’t get up this time.

  Running the back of my hand along my forehead, I notice a bit of sweat. I’m glad it’s the temperature and not just him causing the heat to rise.

  “You should stop moving around so much. It’s just making it worse. Sit back down.”

 

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