Chapter 38 Harrison
HARRISON
I’m not ready to start middle school.
Mom and Dad have told me horror stories from when they were that age. How mean the kids were, how rough the adjustment is from elementary school, and how you’re dealing with the onset of puberty all at the same time.
But their sweet little Leprechaun can handle anything. We’re Irish. Our people have been through a lot.
I wish Maddox and I were going to the same school.
He’s going to a fancy private school. The Hathaways offered to pay for my tuition to go there as well since I saved Maddox’s life in the ravine last summer, but Mom and Dad refused to take their charity.
I think Harold got in their heads after Henry Hathaway showed up at their door. He certainly got into mine.
But I’ve gone on the scheduled playdates—complete with a photographer present—with Maddox. Though the whole thing was clearly staged to make the Hathaways look good for Maddox’s dad’s bid for mayor, I do like hanging out with him.
And he likes hanging out with me.
His dad won the election in a landslide, and even after that Maddox still wanted to hang out with me.
He legitimately likes me. At least, I think that’s the case. We’ve been inseparable for three years now, probably to his parents’ annoyance.
Sometimes he sneaks away and we meet at the ravine—the same one I pulled him out from.
Guess we like danger.
He sits on the bank. He’s wearing athletic shorts today, so it doesn’t matter if he muddies them up. “I can’t believe it’s been three years since it happened, Harry.”
“Yeah, it’s crazy.” I shrug. “Time flies, I guess.”
“For sure.” He stares at the rushing water in front of us. “You excited for middle school?”
I swallow. “Not at all. A skinny kid like me, with my big ears? I’m going to be fresh meat for the bullies.”
“I’m not looking forward to it, either,” he replies.
“Like, I know I’m going to this fancy school in the city, but rich kids can really be merciless.
If they do something bad, their parents can make it go away.
They don’t have to face consequences for their actions.
So they let their imaginations go wild.”
“Huh. I never thought about it that way.” I lean back on the soft grass, watch a few fluffy clouds pass by. “Maddox, can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“Are you… Are you only friends with me because I saved you?”
He chuckles. “Harry. We met because you saved me. Because you acted quickly and pulled me out the ravine. But we’re friends because you’re good people.
I like you, and I like your family a lot.
” He gazes toward the clouds. “You guys are real. You do the right thing because it’s the right thing.
You don’t do good things just for the clout, like my dad. ”
I smile. “Really?”
He nods. “Really.” Then he chuckles. “You’re a good person, Harry. Only a truly good person would have thrown himself into the ravine to save a kid he barely knew.”
* * *
I don’t think.
I just leap. Throw myself over Lou’s body.
Rouge’s dagger buries itself into my right shoulder. The pain is searing, but I don’t care right now.
Rouge gasps. “The good doctor fancies himself a hero, does he?”
She brings the dagger down again, this time into my left shoulder.
I cry out in pain, but I’m not going to stop protecting Lou and Carol.
They may not have gotten their organs by the book, but they’re innocent.
I know they would have refused the transplants if they had known where their donations came from.
Twin trickles of blood pour down my back, and the pain melts away temporarily as time seems to freeze for a moment.
It’s the adrenaline.
Rouge will surely bring her knife down on me a third time. If she hits my spinal column, I’m toast.
She’ll summon her remaining Kings from there, and they’ll take the rest of us out. Maybe she’ll let Bianca live, but I have my doubts. Vanya will certainly die. His head was on the chopping block already. He’s just delayed the inevitable.
It’s impossible.
There is no way out of this.
But then I remember Rouge’s own words from just a moment ago.
Always let your enemies think they’re in control. The more vividly the mirage of power gleams, the tighter your grasp upon their fate.
They echo words that Chet said when he recounted his story to us.
Always let them think they’re in control.
Rouge claims Chet is loyal to her and only her.
That isn’t true.
Chet is loyal to one entity alone.
Chaos.
Rouge can kill all of us right now, tie her whole mess up with a neat little bow.
And Chet won’t like that.
Before Rouge can bring her dagger down again, I glance over toward Chet. “That’s it, then. Congratulations, Chet. You and your Queen have won.”
Rouge cocks her head. “Dr. O’Rourke?”
I ignore her. “Everything will go back to normal now. You guys can run things the way you want at Aces. You’ll return to your job as a bouncer. Checking driver’s licenses. Never letting anyone in unless Her Majesty commands.”
“Silence!” Rouge commands.
“Because it will always be what Rouge wants, won’t it?” I continue. “Rouge, who killed your friend in cold blood after you let me into the club.”
“I think we’ve heard enough.” Rouge raises the dagger once more and—
Chet soars across the room, knocking the dagger out of Rouge’s hands and tackling her to the floor.
I stand up and roll Lou and Carol off to the other side of the bed.
They grunt as they hit the floor on top of one another—they’re old, so they might have fractured a few bones from the short fall—but they’re at least out of harm’s way for now.
“Kreuzer, now!” Rouge cries out.
The door to the bedchamber’s en suite bathroom bursts open, and a man I recognize as the King of Clubs barrels out toward Chet.
But I stop him in his tracks, throwing a right hook to his jaw.
He responds with an uppercut of his own to my chin, but I’m feeling no pain right now, and I land a side kick to his chest, knocking him back a few feet.
Another man walks into the room—the King of Diamonds—but Vanya leaps onto his back and gets a chokehold around his neck. Meanwhile, the King of Spades tries to sneak up behind Chet, but he quickly rams a knife into his throat, sending his body to the floor.
Chet then turns on the King of Diamonds, grabs him by the shoulders, and shakes him hard to get Vanya off him. Vanya tumbles to the floor and Chet takes the sides of the King’s head in his hands before snapping his neck. He crumples to the floor.
Now it’s the three of us against the King of Clubs, the burliest in the bunch.
As Chet approaches, I sweep my feet under his legs, bringing him down to his knees.
Vanya kicks him in the face, breaking his nose.
Chet steps in and slits his throat in one fluid motion before leaping across the room and pressing the knife—still dripping with the blood of her fallen Kings—against Rouge’s fair-skinned throat.
Her lip quivers. “Et tu, Chet?”
“Et me, regina mea.” He presses the knife against Rouge’s throat. “But perhaps there is an agreement to be made here.”
My heart starts beating again. Fuck. Did I misread this?
Three Kings lie dead at our feet. Chet had no problem killing them. Why is he hesitating now?
“What are your terms?” Rouge hisses.
“I take the reins at Aces,” Chet returns. “I recreate it in my image, and someone else takes on the monotonous duties I performed.”
Rouge rolls her eyes. “No one can run Aces like I do.”
“Perhaps that’s the problem.” His grin widens. “Perhaps that’s why you’ve found yourself in this situation, Majesty.”
Rouge widens her eyes. For once, she’s been silenced.
Her eyes glisten with calculations as she darts her gaze around the room from Chet, to me, to Vanya, to the bodies of the three Kings, to Bianca, and then back to Chet. They almost glow with defiance.
And she pulls the final move in her arsenal.
She snaps Chet’s blade from her throat and plucks a second diamond-encrusted dagger from her cleavage. Before Chet can retaliate, she aims it at herself, eyeing Bianca.
“You can take Aces out of my cold, dead fingers, sister.”
And she plunges the dagger into her breast.
Blood spurts from her chest, and she slowly sinks into a sitting position on the edge of her bed.
“Rouge!” Bianca runs to her sister’s side, taking her hand. “What have you done?”
A final grin inches across her face. “No one will feel the beat of a Queen’s heart except for me.”
The light leaves her eyes, and she lies back on the bed. Dead.
Bianca throws herself over her sister’s body. She’s crying.
She hated her, but Rouge was still her sister. Bianca must be feeling a tangled mess of emotions right now. I rush to her side, throw my arm around her shoulders.
“It’s going to be okay, babe.”
She wipes her eyes. “I know. It’s just… I don’t know.” She extends two of her fingers and closes Rouge’s eyelids, sniffling. She then looks around. “Where’s Chet?”
I look over my shoulder. “Shit. He’s gone.”
He must have disappeared into the night, the ghost of his grinning mug still lingering over us.
And already I know I’ll never see him again.