Chapter 29

Primrose

Giselle didn’t get back to me until eleven o’clock at night, at which point I was so sick with worry I’d already gone to the class hall she was supposed to get out of and back to my apartment, where I’d paced my room until I felt like I’d throw up. And when she finally did text back, it didn’t make things much better.

sorry, not feeling well tonight, can’t make it

I collapsed into my bed, staring at the phone, feeling like a brittle sculpture breaking into pieces.

This was going to be the last date I’d get with her… my last chance to be with her. I was hoping for one last night. Just one more time.

Maybe it was easier this way. Saying goodbye for the night on our last date with her would be the hardest thing in the world, and I wouldn’t even be able to explain to her why I was crying about it. Or if I went back to her place with her for one last night together, then… wouldn’t have been able to explain why I was crying then, either.

I knew this was my opportunity to pull back, suddenly deny her care and attention, but I couldn’t make myself. that’s okay! I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, and then despite myself, I can come over and just be there for you, you did the same thing for me earlier today

She left me on read for an agonizingly long time before she replied. think I’m just going to crash for the night

Not even a call before bed? I felt like I was sinking, everything falling away. I desperately wanted to know what had just happened—what happened to the two of us, what made her pull away like this—but I could wait. Until the morning.

And then? And then what?

okay,I replied, after excruciating deliberation. take care of yourself. I hope you’re okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?

She didn’t respond. And I barely slept that night.

I’d had awful nights in my life—right after leaving my family, and a dozen others along the way where the fragile things I’d built up for myself trying to survive had given way and I’d been sick with anxiety and dread wondering how I’d make it alive. Hadn’t really had them since I’d joined up with FIRE and finally had people, a group where I was safe.

And I didn’t miss those nights. But here we were—back to this free-fall panic that sank deep into my bones through the whole night, while I tossed and turned, thrashed between screw it, if Giselle is pushing me out anyway then what does it matter and all I want is for her to be happy—snapping between the two of them so violently I thought it would break me. I got maybe an hour of sleep combined, across ten-minute lapses into sleep over the night, and when the alarm went off, it was a sick dread that almost made me miss the night, knowing what today was. What today had to be.

Giselle was just the band-aid I had to rip off. Once that was done, I’d be able to rest, look after myself. I’d be safe. Matthew would be disappointed, but I wasn’t out to please Matthew. I was out to stay alive.

No good morning text from Giselle. Of course there wasn’t. But there was a text from Zachary, which was even worse than no texts at all.

Come meet me at CH-231 and we can chat strategy for the day.

Fuck him and his strategy. Jesus Christ.

I rolled out of bed, feeling like I was made of lead as I got dressed.

It was a beautiful, sunny day today, which just felt like the universe was making fun of me. Crisp blue skies, birds singing in the trees around, and people out for what was most people’s half-day or even day off on Fridays, athletic groups gathered for morning practice scattered around the walk from November to the Commons Hall. Everyone having an absolute blast of a time today.

At least when I passed by Tan on his way out of the Commons Hall, he gave me a sympathetic smile and said nothing.

Tan.Said nothing. I never thought I’d see the day.

There was something sickly poetic about the meeting set up in the same room where Zachary had set me on Giselle’s case in the first place, the meeting room on the second floor overlooking the field, and Zachary sitting there in the same chair he’d been in last time—the creep always did that, took whatever seat was closest to facing the door directly so he could stare you down with that smug, knowing smirk on your way into the room, his feet kicked up on the table.

“Morning, Prim,” he said.

“What do you want?” My voice came out icy enough it would make anyone but Zachary flinch. He set his feet down on the floor, leaning in and folding his arms on the table.

“Sit down. We’ve got stuff to discuss.”

“Pretty comfy here,” I said, leaning back against the wall.

“Suit yourself.” He leaned back again, folding his hands together behind his head. “Least you could do is thank me.”

“Yeah? Got me a present?”

“Giselle’s a charmer, huh? Maybe I need to get her into FIRE, have her take over your job.”

I just glared. He shrugged.

“Tell me the truth. Giselle got through to you, huh?”

“Pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to pull the plug until today anyway.”

“Nah. But you were supposed to give me the details about her family.”

I looked away, a sick feeling sinking in my stomach. “Fine. Yeah. You win. I got into it, and I was so distracted with it all that I forgot to ever pull up the dirt you wanted. So, what? You said it was a bonus. If I didn’t do the recon, am I kicked out of FIRE?”

“I’m not an idiot, Primrose.” He leaned in again, his expression turning serious, as he folded his hands on the tabletop. “You did get the intel. You’re withholding it.”

It felt like a stab in the gut, and I bled raw, red anger. “You know what? Fuck you.”

He smiled. “Not exactly a compelling defense.”

“You’ve clearly decided for yourself what to think regardless of what I say, so what difference does it make?”

“Going to even claim you didn’t?”

“Do you want to actually tell me what’s going on? I know there’s a reason you want an alliance specifically with the Kents instead of the Lawsons. Even before I got involved, Andrea was right there. Would have been a walk in the park to get them on board. So what’s the truth?”

His smile fell. “Lawson’s the one who fucked over Cruz. You think we can get them on our side?”

“Don’t make up shitty deflections, Zach. You know I’m not buying it.”

“Far as I can see, not even your place to ask, Prim. You had a job. Specific instructions. I told you the consequences.”

“I’m not a trained monkey.” I stepped forward and planted my hands on the table. “Tell me the truth, Zachary. What’s the real story with Giselle?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Think you’ve got one foot out the door of FIRE. Don’t know why I’d tell you shit given that.”

“Trying to get my other foot out the door?”

“Thinking you need us more than we need you.”

It hurt like hell that he was right. I could storm out of here on principle, and then… then what? I’d be out of November by the end of the month, no job, no prospects. I clenched my fists, and the smug smile he gave me—he knew he had me, and it made me want to strangle him.

“Easy,” Zach said, putting a hand up. “You’ll burst an artery. I’ve made your job easier. I look after my own.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“Took care of it for you. Had Andrea fuck things up between you and Giselle.”

It felt like a stinging cold slap across the face, and I swallowed back the lurching feeling in my throat. “What did you do?” I said, my voice a cold, low, measured tone. He smiled.

“Andrea was missing her, so… gave her a little push to go for it. Some healthy encouragement to go after her heart’s desires. And permission to spill the truth about you and Giselle.”

I had to focus, hard, on breathing in, and out, slow, easy. “You’re lucky I don’t fucking strangle you right now.”

“Honored, really. Lucky me, indeed.”

So that was last night. Which meant Giselle knew. Which meant it was already… already…

I felt so dizzy. Faint. I sank into a chair, too weak to stand up, trying to put my vision back to normal. Zachary leaned back, kicking his feet back up on the table.

“Andrea’s really a wet sack when it comes to her feelings, so—I don’t doubt she delivered it all in the worst way possible. Probably broke Giselle to pieces, just in time for it to really sink in today that you and Andrea both had only ever been staged. And down it all goes.”

“You’ve got stakes with the competition,” I said, my voice frigid. “Not just a personal grudge.”

“Ah. Might be a nice windfall if the Kent kid outperforms.”

“You sick son of a bitch.”

“I’ll be a nice guy and assume that’s just coming from a place of tender hurt feelings right now, and that you’ll come back around.”

I looked down at my hands, clasped together on the table in front of me—this alien feeling like I was in somebody else’s body, living somebody else’s life. Maybe Matthew was right. Guess this wasn’t me. Maybe the fucking blue blood.

Blue blood.What an embarrassing thing to be going around rambling about.

I’d really played right into Zach’s hands. It would be infuriating if it weren’t humiliating first and foremost.

“So,” he said, stretching his arms out over his head, “nothing to bother protecting her for anyway. Sorry about your girlfriend. Hand over the intel and we’ll all be on our way.”

I pursed my lips. One breath in, one out.

“Given how uncomfortably close we got to a repeat here, I don’t think we can forget the Chris Torres thing after all. But I’ll be happy to forget this specific fuckup. And put you on a task you’re better suited for, because I think you’ve lost your edge.”

“Lost my edge is right,” I muttered.

“Happens to all of us. Our skillsets change with us. Put you in with Randall. Heard you were able to charm Giselle’s whole family once you were on the inside, so I’m sure you’ve got a knack.”

“Go fuck yourself, Zach.” I stood up, a cold, bitter taste in my mouth. Zachary frowned sharply, planting his boots on the ground, giving me an incredulous look.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“You said the intel’s a bonus. So no. I didn’t get any. Sorry. Looks like the main job itself is done. So I’m going.”

“What the hell are you holding out for?” He stood up. “Giselle’s not coming running back into your arms.”

I turned away. “I know.”

“Really want to put it all on the line for a girl who’s never even going to want to see your face again?”

I walked, slowly, back to the door, and I stopped with my hand on the handle. I hovered there for a while, my stomach churning, before I spoke in a low, cold voice. “I’ve fought for FIRE because it’s the right thing to do. Protecting the weak from the unjust. That’s not what this is.” I shot him a look. “I’m not the one who’s gotten caught up and forgotten what they’re doing, Zach. You’re not working for justice anymore. You’re looking for power, willing to sell out and hurt anyone it takes to get there. You’re no better than the ones you claim to be against. Just a business magnate of your own, except that you only work with people who are so desperate they don’t get to tell you no. I did my job, Zach. Take it or leave it. Have a great fucking day.”

I opened the door, and I pushed out into the hall, my head cold as I marched through the thin crowds of people, gaze straight ahead, just walking—not even sure where to.