Idle (The Seven Deadly #4)

He looked up at me, his jaw gritted.

“I see,” he said. “Does he, uh, does he—”

“No, he doesn’t touch them, um, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Salinger’s whole body sat eerily still. “And your mom?”

My face flamed white hot. “Uh, well, no,” I gulped.

“I see,” he said. He was trying to keep his voice steady, I could tell. “So it’s just you he can’t keep from hurting then?”

It was my turn, but my hand stilled on the king’s knight my finger rested on. I audibly swallowed. “Yes,” was all I could answer.

“And what does your mom think about it?”

I started to feel uncomfortable, so I shifted in my chair. “Salinger, I—”

“Tell me,” he said, sitting back, forgetting the game, “at what point in your life do you think you’re going to do something? At what point will you say enough is enough?”

“I’m not a project, Salinger, remember?”

“Is that what human beings are to you? Projects?”

He caught me off guard. “No, I just mean—”

“And what would you do if you were me, huh?”

“I’d mind my own business.”

“That’s alarming,” he observed.

“No, it’s not,” I told him. “I live with this very real reality. You shake things up and you make it worse for me.”

“No, Lily, when I shake things up for him, he will know not to lay a single finger on you again.”

“You can’t; you’re going to get me killed,” I whispered.

“Sterling, or whatever the hell that asshole’s name is, he’s going to fear the ever-living hell out of me because that seems to be the only thing men like him respect. So today, when I drop you off at your car, I want you to let me follow you to your house. I wanna have a talk with him.”

I started to hyperventilate. “He’ll kill you.”

“No, he won’t.”

“He’ll kill me.”

Salinger leaned forward. “No,” he whispered with quiet intensity, “he most definitely will not.”

“Stop,” I begged.

“No, you stop. You think this guy won’t graduate to worse? Because he will, and one day he’ll lay you out and you won’t get back up, Lily.”

My eyes burned. I knew he was right, but I had no where to go and no money and I knew if I’d left I’d be completely alone because I’d have to leave Bottle County just so he couldn’t find me or have the sheriff drag me back home.

“Drop this,” I insisted.

“No.”

“Drop this right now, Salinger,” I said, my face and neck growing hot.

“Then stay the night on my couch, at least, just so we can figure out a plan for you.”

“No,” I said, going back to the game.

“You’re not even going to try to help yourself?” he asked me.

“If I stay the night anywhere but home, he beats me worse the next day. I’d rather avoid it.”

“Then don’t go back home ever. Just stay with me or whatever. I’ll actually help you.”

“You mean help me into your bed, right?” I asked, saying exactly what I was thinking. He acted like I’d hit him. “Please, Salinger, wipe that look off your face. That’s how all men are.”

“That’s most men,” he said, defending himself. “I’m not most men, Lily.”

“How would I know that? I don’t know you. I just met you. You want to know how many times a boy has told me he loves me but when I refuse to sleep with him, bails? Do you know how many times a boy has promised to help me then realized I couldn’t or wouldn’t give anything to him and left? Do you know that percentage?” I asked him.

“No,” he whispered.

“One hundred percent. One hundred percent of them.”

“And Ansen?” he countered.

“He’s the exception to the rule,” I dismissed. “And even Ansen would drop me like that,” I snapped, “if Katie called on him. That’s the way it should be, though. I’m not complaining. I’m just saying even the exception to the rule isn’t infallible.”

“But you can admit they exist, though, don’t they, exceptions to the rule?”

“Yeah, but they’re so rare, so impossible to find he might as well be the only one.”

“Not true,” he argued, “he’s not the only one. There are lots of good guys out there and they’re waiting, wading through life, and waiting. You’re looking in all the wrong places.”

“I’ve looked everywhere.”

“No, you’ve looked in this shallow pool you call Bottle County. You’ve looked nowhere else and you want to know something else?” he said, folding his arms across his chest, “those good men, they’re just waiting for you to make them even better. Men are malleable, way more malleable than you could possibly imagine. If you promise loyalty, the good ones will move mountains for you. The only thing unchanging would be their own loyalty and whatever moral compass they live by. Other than those two things, you would own them. That is how men work and that, as you said, is how it should be. God, if girls only knew the power they possessed.”

He stared at me, his eyes searching my face. He was wondering if he’d rambled too far, I could tell. You could also tell he was a little embarrassed, but I liked what he’d said. His words broke open a tiny piece of a cold, hard sky for me.

“And are you a good one?” I prodded.

“I am,” he declared, his cheeks tinged pink. He unfolded his arms and leaned over the board, searching the pieces there.

“You seem confident in that.”

“I’m sure of it.”

“How do you know?” I asked him. “How do you know this isn’t just a romantic ideology you adhere to by mouth but the minute something distracts you, you’ll run to that instead?”

His stare met mine, serious and cutting. “I know, Lily Hahn, because I have gosh damn integrity.”

Adrenaline shot through my body at his candor. “I think I believe you,” I told him.

“You don’t have to choose to believe it. You’re going to see it for yourself.”

My stomach dropped to my feet. Without another word on it, he bent back to the game and my stomach settled down.

I wanted to know him, wanted to know if he was going to be good on his word. I’d never really seen integrity before, and I wanted to know what it looked like.





CHAPTER SEVEN


THE NEXT DAY, the Friday before the tournament, Salinger had to work a double because they were behind or something at the store. We’d planned on meeting to practice but that wasn’t possible, so he texted me throughout the entire day instead.

I’d refused to go home with him. I needed to time to think. He respected that but begged me to lock myself in my bedroom and text my address if it looked like Sterling was going to snap. I promised, but it wasn’t necessary. Sterling never came home that night. I’d blissfully lived without him anywhere near me. It was heaven.

I spent most of the day practicing chess at the library on the computers there.

The director’s name is Ron, fyi, Salinger texted.

I took a deep breath, growing more and more nervous as the hours passed.

He’s cool? I texted back.

Yeah, cool A few seconds passed. Cool but kind of a ball buster too

Great, I thought, before starting my hundredth game that afternoon. I need to stop. I’m making this harder than it has to be.

I’m done practicing. Feel like if I keep going, I’ll just psych myself out, I texted back.

I totally get that lol Plus, this is just a fun tournament anyway. No pressure, Lily, seriously.

That helped me.

I stood up, stretching my body out, and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“Hey, beautiful, what are you doing here?” someone asked beside me.

I turned to find Trace.

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked, trying my hardest to smile. “I’m just playing a little chess online.”

Trace snorted and I rolled my eyes.

“You still mad about the other night?” I asked him.

“Nah, you know me,” he said.

I did know him. He probably didn’t even know what I was talking about.

“Better question. What are you doing here?”

He laughed. “Freaking probation officer says I have to fax in some paperwork from my last court appearance. This is the only place I know that still has a fax machine.”

Classy. “Ah, yeah, I get it.”