Idle (The Seven Deadly #4)

bxc3

Nxe4 Instinctively, I scooted farther to the edge of my chair, took a deep breath, and moved my knight.

Bxe7 He didn’t move, didn’t blink. I’d backed him into a slight corner and he was analyzing. Adrenaline raced through my veins. He aimed for his bishop.

Qb6 My fingertip edged my queen. I steadied my nerves and moved her.

Bc4 Some small part of myself recognized the incredible silence in the room, but I shut it out immediately. Bernard took his bishop on a trip once again.

Nxc3 I rested my forefinger on my knight, confirmed the move with myself, and took his pawn.

Bc5 He took his bishop and aimed for my queen.

Rfe8+ I shifted a rook.

Kf1 He moved his king.

Be6 A bishop for me.

Bxb6

Bxc4+ He responded in kind.

Kg1 King.

Ne2+ Knight.

Kf1 King.

Nxd4+ Knight.

Kg1 King.

Ne2+ Knight.

Kf1 King.

Nc3+Knight.

Kg1 King.

axb6

Qb4 Queen.

Ra4 Rook.

Qxb6

Nxd1

h3

Rxa2

Kh2

Nxf2

Re1

Rxe1

Qd8+

Bf8 Bishop.

Nxe1

Bd5 You could hear even the slightest movement. It was deathly quiet.

Nf3

Ne4

Qb8

b5

h4 He moved a pawn. He was grasping at straws. He looked up at me, the first time he’d made eye contact since we’d begun and his face was unreadable.

h5

Ne5

Kg7

Kg1

Bc5+ I placed a bishop. There was a single sharp intake of breath, but I didn’t know from whom it came from.

Kf1 He scrambled his king. He knew he’d lost. He knew, but he respected me enough to finish it out.

Ng3+ My knight.

Ke1 His king.

Bb4+ My bishop.

Kd1 His king.

Bb3+ My bishop.

Kc1 His king.

Ne2+ My knight.

Kb1 His king.

Nc3+ My knight.

Kc1 He moved his king.

Rc2 I placed my rook at his queen.

“Checkmate,” I whispered.

The room came back all at once and I relaxed my muscles, beyond relieved.

I breathed a sigh of relief then glanced around the room, starting with Bernard, and noted each of their faces were blank. I stopped at Salinger. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape.

“I’ve never seen anyone beat Bernard,” Carl said, breaking the silence. “And I’ve known him twenty years.”

“Young lady,” Gus told me, “that was nothing short of brilliant.”

I felt my cheeks burn and looked back at Bernard. Slowly, his mouth started to twitch, then moved into a smile. I jumped when he started to laugh, gut laughed, fell back in his chair and laughed hard.

The other men were unsure of how to react to him but everyone eventually, except for Salinger, began to laugh along with him and when that laughter died down, Bernard sighed, stood, and offered his hand.

“Miss Lily,” he said, his voice slightly shaken.

“Yes, sir?” I answered him and took his hand.

“Very good game, young lady. Very good game.”





CHAPTER TWENTY


“WHERE ARE YOU FROM, GIRL?” Bernard asked me over lunch. “Who are your parents?” he asked without giving me an opportunity to answer his first question.

I felt my eyes burn but I kept myself together. “I don’t know who my dad is, but my mom is, or,” I swallowed the lump in my throat, “was, a blue-collar worker in a manufacturing plant in the town over from where I grew up.”

“Oh, is she not working there anymore?” he innocently asked.

I tried to smile at him. “No, sir, she’s passed on.”

Bernard looked sad but fixed his expression. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“So sorry,” the other men grumbled, casting pitiful stares my direction.

I started to feel panicky and rubbed my palms on the thighs of my jeans over and over. I felt antsy, like I needed to stand up and leave. Salinger had sat next to me at the table and, just when I was going to stand to bolt, I felt his left hand find my right and his fingers wrapped around the tops of mine. He squeezed them gently.

“Lily needs to find a tournament still to establish her rating,” he told the men, swiftly changing the subject.

I turned toward him. Thank you, I mouthed.

Bernard cleared his throat. “I know the perfect one,” he mumbled, staring at his reading glasses. He found something on them and cleaned them with the edge of the robe he still store.

My heart settled in my chest then remembered that Salinger still held my hand and it picked back up again. I stared down at his fingers, just stared at them. He looked down at our joined hands. I heard him swallow and I looked at him, his Adam’s apple rose and fell with the movement. He lifted his hand from mine and rested it on the tabletop.

None of the men had noticed what was going on, too engrossed in their own conversations, but I was hyperaware. How could I not be? His hand was warm, lean, but strong, and slightly callused from the work we did.

I kept my hands under the table but turned them palms up. I studied them. They weren’t nearly as rough as Salinger’s, but they were starting to look it. I felt a deep burn resonate through my chest. My mom’s hands were callused like that, callused from years and years and years of hard labor. I miss her, I thought. The burn in my chest rose to my eyes and threatened tears. No, I demanded of myself. No. That wasn’t the deal. It’s finish the house, get visitation, get the girls, then mourn Mom, and deal with Trace. Stop.

Salinger found my left hand again, this time palm up, and threaded his fingers through mine.

He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Where are you, Lily?”

A sharp intake of breath and I turned toward him, inches from his face. “Here,” I lied.

He didn’t answer me, at least not right away. Instead, I watched his eyes search my face, like he was memorizing me from a proximity he’d not experienced. He leaned into my ear again.

“Lie,” he quieted, letting go of my hand, leaving it lonelier than it’d ever felt, and sat upright again.

“What about Austin?” Bernard asked the table, unaware of the personal chaos I wrestled with.

“I thought about that,” Salinger contributed, like he hadn’t just melted me to my seat. “I’m just worried, since it’s her first tournament, that she runs the risk of being overwhelmed.”

“Nonsense,” Bernard commented, flippant. “She’s a natural. She’ll wipe the floor with everyone there.” His hand went to his forehead and scratched through the messy hair at his temple. “Let’s see, who do we know will be there for sure?” he asked no one. He snapped his fingers. “Aurek, I think, is the top player there that weekend.”

Salinger folded his arms across his chest and casually laid back in his chair. “Aurek is phenomenal, but she’d beat him. She’d leave there with at least a twenty-five-hundred rating.”

“At least,” Abe said, taking a drink from his tea.

“Aurek’s a bit of a ball-buster, though,” Carl chimed in.

“Not like our girl here,” Gus added with a wink my way.

I smiled at him or tried to. I wasn’t sure it translated.

“That gives us two weeks to prep her for tournament. That’s plenty of time,” Bernard said.

“What does that give us, though?” I asked Salinger.

He looked at me. “I don’t know. This entire weekend, next?” he asked me.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“No,” Bernard interjected. “You’ll need to practice every day here.”

“I can’t do that,” I told him, feeling panicked. “I have to work. I have to… Well, I just have to work every day.”

Bernard waved my comment away. “That’s no good. You need the time, the practice. You’ll take the next two weeks off.”

I looked at Salinger.

“Lily has obligations,” Salinger said, coming to my rescue.

“A girl as young as her? Please, Salinger,” Bernard answered him, not grasping what we really meant.

“Surely you can take a few days off,” Gus added.

“No, sir,” I said quietly. I began to ring my hands. “I, uh, I’m alone and I’ve got some issues with my home and, well, I—” I stuttered out.

“She definitely cannot take time off. I’m sorry, boys,” Salinger chimed in. He turned toward Bernard. “You’ll have to do your best with her this weekend and next.” He looked at me. “Are you okay staying the night out here tonight?”