5. Astor #2
He doesn’t come back, and I hope he’s found something better to do than ruin my morning.
When I’m finished, I find my bodyguards asleep in their vehicle and pound on the window. They startle awake.
Of course. Useless. I told my father I didn’t need them.
They only draw more attention to me when no one here knows who I am.
Plus, they know this job is meaningless which lowers their guard even further.
What could happen to me here? They think I’m safe, and I have to leave them believing that.
I can’t even tell them about him. Because if they find out I’m trying to get into Legacy, they will tell my uncle, and my father told me not to let them find out under any circumstance.
All the parts of my life need to stay separated in their little boxes to keep them moving. I can handle this myself as long as I keep their order. I have a plan, and just like my schedule, it’s perfectly arranged for maximum efficiency and control.
What I don’t understand is why he followed me after last night? I was sure I’d been rejected outright from Legacy, but maybe I was too hasty.
I put myself in his path. Maybe he’s curious. Nothing more. Or maybe they did this to all unknown prospects. Mind games. He’s only checking me out, doing the due diligence for the secret society, and I could use it to my advantage.
That has to be it.
It would wane when I proved myself.
A minor inconvenience. I will deal with it.
Even if he shows up again.
A part of me wants him to. But only because it means I’m a prospect. Not because I want another chance to fight him or anything else. I have no further interest in him. He makes me uncomfortable.
I’m late to my swordplay master, which ricochets through the rest of my day. Even when I make my class on time, my skin crawls with the lost minutes like bugs have gotten under my flesh, carrying every little annoyance.
My annoyance with him turns to rage.
He can follow me if he wants, but he has no business disrupting my calendar. My life is curated and carefully so to fit all the pieces in. To prevent me from dwelling on anything else. I can’t have any down time alone with myself.
I plan to give him a piece of my mind when I see him next. An animal like him has no respect for anyone but himself, and he needs to be put into his place so he understands the world doesn’t revolve around him.
I fully expect him when I step out of the boathouse the next morning, but I refuse to admit, even to myself, that I’m disappointed when there’s no sign of him.
I knew he was just sussing me out. It’s fine. It’s better for me to keep to my routine. I can’t let myself slip. Too much weighs on my shoulders.
Onward. I sit on my scull and get my head into the right space, then stroke.
My mind quiets as the burn sets into my muscles. Back to my routine, the world begins to feel right again.
Until my entire scull rocks under the impact of something, and I’m nearly knocked into the water.
“What the fuck?” I twist in my seat, trying to find the source of the disturbance, only to find another scull steered directly into mine.
Who the hell would even be out here this early, let alone so incompetent to run into—my gaze locks on him before my brain can finish the thought. He’s grinning like he won.
He did it on purpose.
All my rage returns in a rush and I’m instantly irate.
“Good morning, pretty boy,” comes his familiar jovial voice, barreling into my ears unwanted, like his scull did. He grabs my hull, rocking us further. I cling onto my seat, barely avoiding tipping over.
“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?”
“Don’t mind me. I’m still getting the hang of this thing. You’re right. It’s not as easy as I thought it would be.” He brushes his fingertips under my jaw.
My skin heats under his touch and I pull back sharply. “Don’t touch me.”
“You didn’t seem to have a problem with me touching you the other night.”
“I did so.” I grind my teeth, refusing to let him make me late again. “Let go.”
He ignores the demand, keeping a firm grip. “Your lips say one thing, baby, but your body says another.”
I won’t even address the comment. He knows nothing about me.
“You could damage my shell.” I lean over, smoothing my hand over the point of impact before glaring in his general direction.
“Calm down. It was only a love tap.” He again thumps the side of my scull, pulling us together until our boats sit parallel.
“Race shells are designed to be perfectly aerodynamic to create as little drag on the water as possible. It’s not only a little tap. It’s damage.” I can’t bring myself to say ‘love tap’. It sounds so crude. “Your clumsiness could destroy it.”
“We could switch to a two-man type deal to prevent any future mishaps.” His fucking grin spreads, and I want to strangle him.
“Not a fucking chance.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to understand I’m still learning.” He reaches out to touch me again but I lean back.
“You don’t need to learn anywhere near me.”
“I got time to convince you.” He isn’t taking any of my hostility. He just keeps beaming like the sun, which makes him even more infuriating.
“No. It’s never going to happen.” I can’t get any further away from him. My only solace in the encounter is the hope it means Legacy is still on the table.
“If you say so.” As if to torture me for my words, he bumps our shells against one another again. “Oops.”
I set my teeth in a scowl. “What are you doing?”
“Learning to row like you told me to.” Every word he says makes my blood boil more.
“If you recall, I informed you yesterday how rowing is a solo endeavor.” I use an oar to push my shell away from his so he won’t do any more damage.
“There are plenty of people who row together.” He awkwardly catches up despite my best effort to lose him.
Am I so out of shape? Ugh.
“I row alone,” I yell across the water.
Why am I even talking to him? What was I going to gain from any of this? I should just ignore him.
“Except with the team.” He screams back, inching his scull closer to mine.
His massive arms flex with each pull of the water. I guess all his muscle isn’t just for show. He’s in exceptionally good shape, which explains why he can keep up with me.
Damnit.
I veer away, putting more distance between us. “This is different.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
What is wrong with me?
Why can’t I stop replying to him? He’s infuriating.
“So you can be social with the team?”
“It’s not social.” I grind my teeth, trying to focus on my strokes, but his very presence throws me off, and I know it’s going to bleed into my entire day again.
“Everything is social if you want it to be…and I think you want it to be.”
“This is my peaceful morning time—alone—not a social gathering.” I glare over, infuriated at his audacity.
“How am I going to spend time with you if I don’t join you for your hobbies?”
I turn to look at him, pausing my strokes. He must be kidding, but he’s not laughing.
“Why, in God’s name, would I want to spend time with the man who made me look like a fool?” I’m letting him get under my skin and I can’t make it stop.
I control this. I am in control. He can’t take it away from me. He won’t get under my skin. He’s merely another challenge I will overcome.
“Because you missed me. Obviously.” He again edges his skull closer to mine and I have to correct towards the opposite shore to keep away.
Maybe I can use him. I need to be smart about this. Learn from the vipers in court.
I resist the dismissive comment I want to make because I need to keep on his good side. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Rurik.”
My blood runs cold. I know the name. His older brother is the rumored president of Legacy this year, and his family is one of the founders. His mother’s name is whispered and revered. She’s deadly. Which means he’s deadly.
Fuck.
I swallow my fear. A trait I am very good at.
“I’m Ash.”
“I know.” He’s proud of himself.
“You know you don’t need to take up my hobbies.”
Let’s see if he likes his game played back on him.
“I don’t?”
“No. You could let me into Legacy to spend time with me.” I have to remind myself to use this.
He laughs. “Not only my decision, so I have to find other means, but I like your tenacity.”
“But you have some influence?” He has to have some say with his brother and the rest of the board.
His lips curl up at the ends. “I might.”
“I thought so.” Which means I have to tolerate his antics.
“So what you’re saying is you’re happy to see me?” He practically bounces in his seat, and his form is ungodly awful.
I resisted the urge to correct him. “So you’re delusional?”
“All the best people are.”
“I don’t believe that is the case.” I return my focus to my strokes, determined to tire him out so I can continue in peace.
But somehow the heathen keeps up. “Good thing I’m here to prove you wrong.”
Why didn’t I bring headphones?
“I’ll wear you out eventually.”
“I have better ways you can wear me out.” While he might have been able to muscle through keeping up for a few minutes, he cannot have the stamina to do it for long.
I just have to out last him. Rowing isn’t easy, and soon his inexperience prevails and I leave him far behind. I hold my pace. The burn in my muscles offers the only reward to my mind I need. I can lose myself to pain. It’s the only drug I’ve ever found powerful enough to cleanse me of all my sins.
Past and future.
The sins I’ll swallow to protect Rainier.