“How’s that?” I asked, delicately feeling for my next piece and placing it.
He grabbed my hand softly once more and placed it perfectly. Instead of dropping my hand, he held on to it and showed me his next play.
“Because you always play the game in your head. It’s your MO, Lily. I want to see you return to that, but with tournament rules in place.”
“I see,” I said, keeping his fingers with mine. Absently, I ran my thumb over the top of his hand while I felt with my other hand for my next move. I didn’t know why I did it. I only realized I was doing it when I heard a hitch in his breath. I stopped, grateful I couldn’t see him.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “It was a reaction. So sorry.”
He cleared his throat. “No big deal,” he said, but I knew it was a lie because his fingers began to tremble. I heard him let out a slow breath. “I, uh, I think if, uh, you were to, um—” he stuttered.
“If I were to?” I asked, desperate to change move on.
“If you were to, uh, get back into that habit, you’d, um, feel more comfortable.”
“Salinger?”
“Yes?”
“Are you all right?” I asked.
His hands began to shake more and he pulled his fingers from mine. I sat back in my chair and lifted one side of my blindfold to look at him. He didn’t answer, only stared at me. I lifted the rest of the blindfold, pushed it to the top of my forehead. His hands gripped the edges of the little table our chessboard sat on. His knuckles were white.
“Lily, I—” he began, but there was a knock on the door. He opened his mouth, closed it, turned toward the door, and shook his head. “I’ll get it,” he said, standing up.
I stood up as he was swung the door open.
“What’s up?” Ansen asked casually, opening the screen door and walking in. Katie followed him inside.
“Hey, guys,” I said.
Ansen narrowed his eyes at me, cocked his head to the side. Katie smiled at me. She pointed at her own head, silently asking what the blindfold was all about. I pushed it off my head and laid it on top of our game.
“We interrupting something?” Katie teased.
I felt my face flame. Both Salinger and I looked away from each other. “No, of course not,” I said, trying to defuse the obvious awkwardness laying dormant in the room. Awkwardness I’d laid out there. I felt so stupid.
“Whatever you say,” she answered. “We brought food,” she said, lifting up a full paper bag. She walked toward the kitchen, her bright white shoes with the thick black platforms clomping across the worn wood floor. “You’ve been working so hard, both of you, we thought you guys could use a reprieve. It’s not healthy the way you two push yourselves.”
“She’s right,” Ansen said, following her into the kitchen.
They kept up a conversation in there, but I didn’t hear anything they were saying, and I don’t think Salinger did either, because we were watching each other, unsure how or if we needed to approach the subject of what had happened over the chess table.
Salinger inched toward me and I followed suit until we were two feet apart. His eyes never left mine.
“We saw Trace at Ashleigh’s on Friday night!” Katie called out from the kitchen.
I kept my gaze on Salinger but answered her.
“Oh yeah? He calmed down yet?”
“No,” Ansen answered for her. “He’s fucking lost his shit is what’s going on.”
I broke our gaze and walked into the kitchen, Salinger right behind me.
“What did he say?” I asked them.
Katie laid out several containers of Chinese food on the new butcher-block countertops we’d salvaged and sealed.
“He said, well—” She looked at me then Ansen. “Don’t worry about what he said.”
“Just tell her,” Ansen prodded.
Katie sighed and put down the last box of food then folded the paper bag they came in. She laid the bag on the counter next to the food and turned my direction.
“He, well, he said he was going to, and I’m quoting him by the way, that he was going to ‘take care of you.’”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Salinger asked. His hand found my wrist and stayed there. I wasn’t sure he was aware he’d even done it.
Ansen fell into one of our old wood chairs and ran his hands down his face. “It’s fucking Trace. It could mean anything.”
Salinger turned me toward him. “You need to file another report then. If several people heard him say this, it needs to be reported.”
My free hand found the top of my head. “I don’t know, man. It would only make things worse, I think.”
“Lily, you’re kidding me, right?” Salinger asked, the disbelief apparent in his eyes. “He’s openly threatening you to other people. That’s scary shit.”
I took a deep breath. “Trace is unpredictable. If I add this on, he’ll really come after me.”
“Worse than he already has?” His tone was incredulous. “It’s exactly because he’s unpredictable you need to document everything he does.”
“Let me think on it,” I said, but I knew I wouldn’t do anything.
Dealing with Trace was further down the list. I didn’t have time for Trace.
Ansen stood up and stared out the sliding glass door. “It’s so fucking shitty he lives right behind you,” he said.
“I don’t even care,” I admitted. Salinger looked down at his fingers around my wrist. He let me go. “I don’t have time for Trace. I have to fix the roof and the floor. I have to get Callie and Eloise home.”
Katie nodded. “Let’s no more talk of Trace then,” she said and handed me a paper plate. “You’re skin and bones, Lily.”
“I’m stressed.”
“I get it, but it’s time you started taking better care of yourself. You’re falling off the deep end a little bit, and I’ll be damned if I watch you drop over,” she replied.
“I’m getting there, Katie.”
She nodded.
We all sat around the dining room table, a table I don’t think I’d ever sat at once. When my mom and Sterling were alive, it was a catchall. It was where all their junk would land. Since I’d cleaned up the house, we could see the surface of it, and it was actually kind of pretty. It was an old table, for sure, but it was well kept, because it hadn’t been really used in years.
“Lily is training for a tournament in Austin,” Salinger told the table.
“Is this a big deal?” Ansen asked.
“Kind of,” I said. Adrenaline pumped through my body at the mere thought of taking on Aurek. “I, uh, I looked my opponent up.”
Salinger dropped his fork on his plate. “You did?” he asked.
“Horrible idea,” I said. “I’m freaked the hell out.” I brought my knees to my chest and hugged them, resting the arches of my feet against the edge of the chair. “So much is riding on this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“YES, BERNARD,” I told him over the phone. He’d asked me if I was ready.
We’d spent pretty much every waking moment I wasn’t working or sleeping preparing for the tournament in Austin. I’d gone to Bernard’s the previous weekend and had an intensive training session. I was as ready as I could possibly be.
“Remember to relax,” he prompted.
I took a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”
There was a dramatic pause. “Good luck, Lily,” he said, but before I could respond, he’d hung up.
I stuck my phone in the back pocket of my cutoffs. I turned toward Salinger.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered.
We got out of his Jeep and walked side by side toward the convention hall.
“I feel like I’m ready but the nerves. Feel like I’m going to be sick,” I told him.
He lifted his bag higher on his shoulders. “That’s normal, Little.”
I nodded.
This tournament was a $3,500 pot. Salinger had several roofers come out and the cheapest guy estimated a new roof around $8,000. I almost fell over when he told me. Apparently the house had some code issues and a lot of stuff had to be replaced because it hadn’t been maintained for years. I needed to win. So bad.
We approached the ten or so doors to the hall. Salinger opened one for me and I stepped in. Cool air assailed me. The place was crowded. Really, really crowded. There were lines just to get to the registration tables. My heart started to race.