10. Seven #2
“You can keep your mouth shut, Ms. Lockwood ,” Vortex says, his voice more venomous than I’ve ever heard it before. “And get the fuck out.”
Havoc takes a menacing step toward her. “I’m not above punching women,” he growls. “Especially not if they’re human-trafficking?—”
“Yes, yes,” Trent interrupts. “We get it, you’re really tough and hate assholes. Don’t worry, Ms. Lockwood and I have come to an understanding. One in which she vacates the premises immediately.”
I feel my cheeks pale, and I wonder if I was wrong about Trent after all. Maybe he did decide to take her up on that business opportunity . Maybe he’s not a safe person at all. I shudder and press in closer to Vortex.
“And doesn’t return,” Vortex says. “Or the police will be called and charges will be filed.”
Emily covers her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Are the police here more effective than in New Bristol? I don’t think they are. They were just as happy to take our money here as back home.”
Vortex releases me, and he gets in her personal space. “I think you’re really pushing your luck, Ms. Lockwood,” he says, his voice quietly menacing. “You aren’t on your home turf, and pedophilia isn’t something they take lightly here in Calamity.”
Emily’s grin widens. “Now I know you aren’t familiar with the people in power here.” She steps away from us and waves. “Don’t worry, Rory. Mom will come get you soon. You’ll be with your family again.”
“I’d rather die,” I say under my breath, but it’s true.
I’d rather die than go back there.
Havoc lunges for Emily, and before I can even blink, his hand is around her neck.
I startle, staring at him in shock.
“Shut the fuck up,” Havoc growls, his fingers flexing as he puts pressure on her throat. “You don’t get to talk to Seven ever again.”
Emily reaches up to claw at his arm, and her perfectly-manicured nails leave stark marks on his skin. “Sev… Seven is… a dumb name…” she wheezes.
It might be a dumb name, but it’s mine , and she doesn’t get to say it.
I wish Havoc really could choke the life out of her.
I know he shouldn’t.
I know I should say something.
I don’t.
Instead, I stand there, watching and wishing that this would be the end of it.
I know better.
“Havoc! Let go of her, right now,” Trent barks.
Havoc startles and lets Emily go, stumbling back a few steps. He looks down at his hands, like he’s surprised by them.
I realize now that a crowd has gathered around us.
Somebody goes up to Emily, putting her arm around her.
“Are you all right, miss?” the woman asks.
She shoots Havoc a glare. “You need to have this man removed from the premises!” she says hotly.
The woman is a bit older, bigger than Emily, and wearing the t-shirt and shorts that I’ve come to associate with all the out of town tourists.
“I’m all right,” Emily says, rubbing her neck. “Thank you so much for intervening.”
Trent glares at Havoc. “You need to leave. We don’t tolerate violence at the Roi de Pique.”
Havoc makes a disgusted sound and flips Trent off. “Yeah, fine. Fuck you too.” He stops to glare at Emily. “If I ever see you?—”
“Enough,” Vortex interrupts before he can get the rest of the threat out. “Get out.” He stops, staring hard at Emily. “You, too. I won’t abide by you threatening one of our patrons, either, miss .”
The woman holding Emily puffs herself up. “You think you’re hot stuff because you’re a big man, do you? You like threatening innocent women? Well, I’m going to leave reviews about this!”
Trent makes a frustrated sound. “There’s no need to do that, ma’am. Everybody is leaving right now. There will be no violence at the Roi de Pique, and if you try this again, sir , I will have you forcibly removed and added to the banned list.”
Havoc storms off without saying anything. I wish I could shout for him to come back, to stay with me, but I know this is already bad.
And it’s all my fault.
Trent shakes his head, but he turns to Emily and the tourist.
“Ma’am, thank you for your assistance. Can I interest you in a complimentary drink? And you, Ms. Lockwood… I think you were on your way out?”
Emily stands taller and away from the tourist. “So I was. It’s good to know what kind of establishment the Roi de Pique is.”
She gives me one last look before she, too, starts to leave.
Trent takes the walkie-talkie off his belt clip and says something to the security staff. I hear the walkie talkie on Vortex’s belt beep, but he ignores it.
The tourist huffs, but she accepts Trent’s invitation for a free drink and heads into the restaurant. Everybody else who was staring filters out.
Trent shakes his head when we’re finally alone. “Better hope nobody was filming that.”
Vortex grimaces. “Can’t be that lucky. I’ll call Caleb and get on damage control. I’m honestly surprised she didn’t insist on calling the police herself.” He looks at me. “You gonna be okay if I go deal with this, Seven?”
No.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I tell him.
Because the balcony door is locked. I’ll be okay because I can’t not be okay.
“I won’t take long,” Vortex promises. “Havoc will probably circle around the building and come back.”
“I’ll escort you to the elevator,” Trent says. After a beat, he adds, “I’ll escort you to the suite, actually. And I’ll text Caleb.”
I don’t want him to. As badly as I wanted to see the three of them before, now I’m feeling small and defeated, and I don’t want them to see me like this. “It’s fine,” I say, forcing a smile. “Don’t bother him. He’s got enough to worry about.”
Vortex stares at me. “You don’t need to be alone, Seven. You never have to be alone.”
But the honeymoon period is almost over, isn’t it? And my nonstop crises are going to end it that much sooner.
“Go on,” I say. “I’ll be safe. Nacho and Miss K will be there.”
Vortex doesn’t look convinced. “We’ll talk to Caleb,” he says more firmly.
“Come on, kid,” Trent says, motioning to me. “Once you’re in the suite, give Lori a call. She’ll be out of school by now. I bet she would love to talk to you about that cartoon again. Hell, I’ll set up a video call once we’re up there.”
I don’t want to talk to Lori. I don’t want to have to pretend I’m okay when my world is falling apart all over again, when my safe space is no longer safe.
“I’ll be fine,” I try to insist.
Trent clasps my shoulder with his hand, and he guides me in the direction of the hotel.
I cast a helpless look in Vortex’s direction, but he’s already distracted, too, on his phone and speaking in low tones — probably to Caleb, probably telling them how my presence has fucked everything up for everyone yet again.
But I let Trent lead me up to the suite, and true to his word, he sets up a video chat with Lori.
I hate him for it. I hate that I’m not even allowed to break down.
But even more, I hate myself for being this fragile.