Chapter 47
EVERYTHING’S FINE
I don’t remember when Colt left. Worse, I can’t remember if I fell asleep on my own or if he sedated me. After last night, I’m not sure I’d be mad if he had. In fact, if he had gotten his hands on whatever magic sedative V claims works on me, I’d applaud him.
Vance wakes me well before the morning chime, setting a gray diagnostics shift on the chair and snapping that I have two minutes.
I brace my hands on the bed and push myself up.
My pillow is smeared with makeup. The sapphire dress is still clinging to me, all popped seams and wrinkles. My hair is a mess of pins.
I don’t have time to fix it. My hands are at my back in seconds, working the zipper down until the gown pools around my feet. I toss it over the chair, more than a little relieved to be rid of it. I hardly have time to toss some water on my face before Vance is ushering me down the hall.
The rational part of my brain tells me I should be panicking. But for whatever reason, I just can’t. Whatever happens will happen.
I just have to be ready when it does.
Vance knocks on a tall metal door. I stiffen reflexively.
My mind runs quickly down the mental list of who could be on the other side.
We’re too far into the medical wing for it to be an instructor or mentor.
And I don’t think any board member would step foot in here.
Which leaves Carr, Rook, Kade, or Noxen.
I’m not particularly fond of any of them.
“Come in,” a feminine voice calls from the other side.
Doctor Kade greets me with a grand smile. She’s already seated by the desk, blouse sleeves rolled to her elbows as she scrolls on her tablet. “There you are,” she says warmly, like I’ve kept her waiting. When our eyes lock, her lips press into a small frown. “I heard you had a rough night.”
I freeze mid-step, because “rough night” doesn’t quite cover it.
Before I can speak, she waves her hand in a dismissive little flourish. “Nothing too unusual. Investor events can be overwhelming.”
She doesn’t even know the half of it.
Kade gestures to the padded chair, her tone so light it would be impolite to refuse. “Let’s check you over.”
I sit, waiting for the oncoming lecture.
Her hands are gentle as she connects the cuff to the system, humming softly under her breath.
After a moment, she tilts her head, satisfied.
“Already stabilizing. That’s promising.” She scrolls through a series of metrics, nodding briefly at each one.
Numbers rise and fall across the screen like meaningless waves.
“Stable across the board. Exactly what we want to see.”
Wow. This place never ceases to amaze me.
I’m stable.
Twelve hours ago, I had a monumental freakout. Bad enough to make the man I’d consider the epitome of calm shatter a window just to make a point. Bad enough to make an enforcer put his life on the line to keep it hidden.
Yesterday, I was a trainwreck.
Today? I’m exactly what they want to see.
Catastrophic mistakes avoided: Twenty-three? Twenty-nine? I’m not sure. It’s easy to lose count when the rules keep changing. If this truly is all a game, it’s absolutely, positively rigged.
I suck in a long inhale before speaking. “So…I’m fine?”
Her smile deepens, warm enough to burn. “Of course you are. You’re a strong one, Maysie. Resilient. Always have been.”
Anger swells in my chest when she speaks about my life so flippantly. I nod before I even realize I’m doing it, like the trained girl I am.
“Good girl.” She pats the back of my hand. “Keep this up, all right? Graduation is closer than you think. And you never know who’s watching.”
The phrase chills me to my core, but she’s already turning back to her tablet. “You may go.”
Vance is waiting outside, rigid and alert, hand on his stun rod like he’s waiting for someone to leap out from the walls and attack. His gray eyes flick to me, unreadable, before he sets a measured pace down the corridor.
I trail after him, trying and failing to scrub Doctor Kade’s smile from my mind before it imprints itself in my nightmares.
We’ve gone only a few paces when another figure blocks the hall.
Maverick.
Disgustingly crisp crimson jacket. Loosened tie. Hands in his pockets like this is a leisurely stroll and not a well-timed ambush.
“Come,” he says smoothly. “You’ve earned a reprieve. A walk in the garden. Consider it a reward for last night’s performance.”
I hesitate.
His brow arches, deliberate stillness falling over his features. “Don’t keep me waiting, little star.”
Vance stiffens, but he knows better than to interfere. He turns on his heel and strides away, mumbling something about schedules.
Maverick’s hand settles lightly at my elbow, steering me through a side door. The air shifts instantly into something too humid to be natural. The garden is lush—roses trained up trellises, a fountain arcing in flawless symmetry, hedges clipped within an inch of their lives. It’s pretty.
Pretty for a lie.
Now that I know the truth, it’s easy to see past the facade.
If I tilt my head just right, the edges of the simulated sky above flicker, tingeing green in some places.
No fallen petals litter the ground. When the vented wind blusters the space, the leaves don’t so much as rustle on the trees.
Even the scent is wrong. The subtle notes of flowers and dirt are almost overpowered by lemon disinfectant.
It’s gross.
It’s gross and I feel like an idiot for ever believing otherwise.
“Radiant,” he says, breaking the silence with venom-dipped praise.
Gravel crunches beneath our steps as he guides me down the path.
“That’s what you were. Everyone saw it.” His grin curves wider.
“And when the lights went out? Inspired.” Maverick huffs a laugh, flicking a speck of dust off his jacket.
“For a moment, I thought you’d done it on purpose. How very Ellington of you.”
The name knocks my composure loose, triggering a landslide in my chest. My pulse falters, but I force my face still. Not quick enough. His eyes glitter, then sharpen.
He knows I know.
But he doesn’t know what I know.
“You know, I was proud. For once.” He leans closer, breath grazing my ear. “They saw you shine, and they knew you were mine.”
I pull back. Scoff.
His grip only tightens. “That’s how this works. Your brilliance, my reflection.”
My stomach twists. I wrench back, beyond annoyed to see the glint in his eyes has spread to a cocky smirk. “I don’t belong to you.”
He laughs softly, amused. “Of course you do. Everyone belongs to someone. You’ll learn that soon enough.”
I ignore that. I need to focus on getting my thoughts straight.
We round the fountain, the water arcs delicately before cascading into a pool of crystal and deceit. He stops, turning me lightly by the arm until I’m facing him. His smile is wicked as he takes me in.
“Don’t fight me, little star. You’ll lose.” Maverick’s thumb brushes the edge of my sleeve. “Always have, always will.”
I think I’m going to vomit.
“Stay close, do as I say, and I’ll make sure you stay untouchable. Even Harrow won’t be able to interfere.”
Yep. Definitely going to vomit.
It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Then, at least, something out here would be real.
As lovely as that would be, I resist the urge. I hold my tongue, waiting.
He doesn’t wait for a response. His hand lingers at the small of my back as he guides me toward a stone bench.
“Ten minutes,” he says lightly, rolling his wrist in indifference. “Consider it a privilege. A stroll in the garden, while the others are stuck in drills. Don’t squander it.”
Privilege isn’t the word I would use for it.
I take the minutes regardless.