Chapter 20
Grimes
Ineed a new plan. No more praising Florian’s cooking or his work on the foundations.
No more taking him to Breta’s for dinner.
No more chats or memory exercises. Definitely no more letting him rut out his frustration on me.
It’s back to treating him like an anonymous servant.
Over the next few days I distance myself, barely speaking to him.
Barely looking at him. Of course, he mopes around like a lost puppy about the new treatment, looking at me like he can’t figure out what has happened.
He even stops singing. It’s not that I like hearing him sing all damn day, but I’ve gotten used to it now, and the house is irritatingly quiet without it.
I’m sure he’d be back to his obnoxiously bubbly self in an instant if I gave him a hint of encouragement or friendliness, but I remain resolute.
He won’t get around me with his blue-eyed wiles.
Typical spoiled rich boy, used to everyone jumping to his moods. It won’t happen this time.
Less time to talk means even more work. We finish up digging the foundations.
Very soon it’ll be time to start on building.
My mood rises despite Florian’s despondency.
My own boxing gym where I can train young people in how to defend themselves and maybe one day produce a champion of my own.
I’m not a man prone to dreaming and flights of fancy, but this is the closest thing to a dream I’ve ever had. It’s so close to coming true.
But this is me we’re talking about. My life being my life and my luck being my luck, of course it all has to come crashing down in flames.
And it does, the day after we finish digging.
The messenger of ill-fortune is a gawky young man in his mid-teens.
He knocks on my door and has absolutely no idea what he’s doing to me as he hands me a letter from the bank.
I read it in a daze of horror. My pain must show on my face because the young messenger asks me if I’m all right, but I slam the door in his face and stumble over to the kitchen table.
I sit down and stare at the evil words again, like through sheer force of hope I can make the letters rearrange themselves into something else. But they stay stubbornly static.
It is always the policy of the Bank of Galbrava to uphold the highest possible standards of ethics and integrity in business.
To that end, your criminal past and your two years of incarceration in Rhennes prison have been taken into consideration.
In light of this information, it is my sad duty to inform you that you are no longer considered to be eligible for a business loan…
I let the words blur through my tears. It’s bullshit.
Half the businesses in this city are run by shadier people than me.
I must’ve pissed someone off. Maybe I beat one of the bank manager’s friends or cronies at the afi table and they made a complaint about me.
I have no idea, but I know that things are never fair in this town.
It doesn’t matter. It’s done now. I told the truth on my loan application, thinking I’d be in bigger trouble if my past came to light later.
Now I wish I’d just concealed it like most of the people who come to Galbrava for a fresh start.
“Boss?”
Florian’s hand is on my shoulder. Fuck. How does he sneak up so quietly? And has he learned nothing from the last time? He’s lucky I don’t knock him out. I jump to my feet, shaking him off.
“What’s wrong?” he says, undeterred. “Are you crying?”
I dash a hand across my eyes, not too subtly.
“What’s on the paper?” he persists. “Has something happened?”
Stars, there’s no getting rid of him. I grab the paper and shove it in my pocket, away from his prying eyes.
“It’s none of your concern,” I snap. “You’re just a servant.”
I have to get away from him, before those innocent, out-of-touch eyes make me explode with rage. He still has no idea what he’s done to my life. But he just can’t let it go. As I head for the door, he grabs my arm.
“Boss, don’t run out,” he says. “Tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you.”
“You can’t help. All you do is ruin everything. Just get the fuck out of my sight.”
His hand falls from my arm. He steps back. His face flushes pink and so much hurt shows in his eyes. More than when he realized I’d won two years of his life. It stuns me momentarily. Even though he only has himself to blame. Even though he deserves it.
“Florian wait—” I reach out for him but he’s gone, his footsteps thundering upstairs, his bedroom door slamming.
**
We don’t talk about it at dinner. Florian cooks, and I wash up.
Then he goes up to bed. I sit alone at the table and drink too much agram.
Next day we’re still in permafrost. We have breakfast in silence.
I’m irritable and headachey. Stars, I should just enjoy the silence for once.
I don’t even want to talk to him, or more accurately listen to his endlessly cheerful prattling about everything under the sun.
Not when my one dream lies in ruins at my feet.
The irony is huge. The spoiled rich boy who ruined my life is trying to make me feel guilty.
I only told him the truth. He does ruin everything, or at least he ruins everything for me.
Maybe if someone had told him that sooner, he wouldn’t be running around making such a mess of his own life and everyone else’s.
Even so. Part of me wishes that I hadn’t said it.
Hadn’t had to watch that hurt cross his face.
Maybe Jos was right. Maybe I don’t have the temperament for long-term revenge.
I’m a man of action. I should’ve just punched Florian into next week and let that suffice.
Simple, direct, fair. This drawn-out, calculated plan is starting to feel… not like me.
We finish eating breakfast, which I barely taste. There’s no point in going outside to work on the gym today. Not anymore. But I have no idea what else to do with myself.
“Are we going to start building today?” Florian asks.
He sounds honestly excited about it. My stomach turns over. I feel ill from a mix of a hundred different emotions, some of which I can’t even name. I’ve never been the best at handling emotions, but this cocktail would floor anyone.
“No,” I say. “We’re not.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Florian just… shut up. Okay?” I sound more tired than angry.
He fidgets with his fork. “Okay, Boss,” he says quietly.
After about ten minutes of sitting in front of our empty breakfast dishes, Florian clears his throat. He can’t keep quiet for any length of time, no matter how much it would benefit his health to do so.
“Boss, I found something the other day I think you should have a look at,” he says.
“What is it?”
“I can’t describe it. I need to show you.”
Now what? I let out a deep sigh, letting him know I’m not happy, but I allow him to lead me outside.
Might as well see what he’s talking about, since I have nothing else to do today.
He leads the way into the patch of stumpy, gnarled trees next to my land.
It’s nothing like the lush forest that backs onto Rhennes, but it’s the densest undergrowth for miles around here and could theoretically conceal danger.
I need to check out what he found in case it suggests bandits or dangerous animals.
Of course, he’s probably imagining things.
I wouldn’t trust him to know signs of real danger if they clunked him over the head.
The trees here are much smaller than in Rhennes’ forest, with tiny, prickly dark green leaves that conserve maximum moisture, helping them to eke out a living on the dry soil.
A few flowering cacti stand by, just outside the patch of scrubland.
I respect them for blooming so brightly in such an inhospitable place.
There’s so much beauty here. It’s just different from what Florian and I are used to.
Florian glances over his shoulder at me, pushing through the undergrowth.
“Just here,” he says.
Where? I can’t see anything unusual anywhere.
I take another step. Then my foot slips, or it’s more like there’s nothing under it at all: the ground has disappeared.
I brace myself for a long fall. But I land sooner than expected, with a bump that hurts my ass.
Feels like I landed on a wooden platform or something like that.
What the hell? I stare idiotically up at the blue sky, way above me.
Florian peers over the side of the hole. He doesn’t look shocked at my fall.
“Are you all right?” he shouts.
“Think so.” I test my limbs. My ass aches, but no real harm done. “There must be an old mine shaft here.”
“Yeah,” he says. There’s a strange smile on his face. “I found it a while ago.”
“You knew this was here? This was what you wanted to show me?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he says.
There’s a note of triumph in that pretty smile now. Then it dawns on me. He planned this?
“You did this,” I say.
He nods.
“Why?”
“Why?” His eerie calm evaporates, and he explodes at me.
“Because you do nothing but treat me like shit. You fucking hate me and I have no idea why. I was willing to serve my two years and dig your stupid foundations and build your stupid boxing gym. I was even willing to kiss up to your stupid ego and call you Boss. Cook and clean for you and follow your stupid rules even though I might as well be in prison.” He stops to take a quick breath.
“But I’m not going to hang around here and be treated like a piece of dirt on your shoe. ”
I stare up at him, feeling like a fish caught in a net.
“This is about what I said yesterday, about you ruining everything,” I say.