The True One

Chapter 14 Part 1

Alek

I don't trust you, but I'm not ready to completely cut you off," Verity said, taking a knife in one hand and pressing my wrist down on the table with the other. "So, let's start with a finger. Don't look so upset, Alek; it's only one. You don't need all of them, do you?"

I struggled against her, but her fingers wrapped around me like I'd been caught in a bear trap.

She steadied her knife. "What wrong? Would you prefer that I bit it off instead?"

As I continued to protest, she threw her knife aside and lowered her head, white teeth gleaming in the harsh light of my prison cell.

Bolting upright in bed, my lungs struggled as I forced quick, shallow breaths in and out of me. Cold sweat soaked through my t-shirt onto the bedsheets.

"Damnit!" I swiveled my legs onto the floor, stretched and stood. It wasn't even five AM, but I had no hope of getting more sleep. The real-life version of this conversation with Verity invaded my thoughts. It hadn't gone much better, though at least there'd been no threat of violence.

"Maybe you aren't entirely useless," she'd said to me on our final night of camping, alluding to how I'd stopped her abduction. Chip and his pack had stayed their distance, likely to nurse their wounds while they regrouped. Verity saw it as a sign of victory, but in my opinion, they were only biding their time.

We hadn't seen the last of Chip. And Verity, thankfully, had decided she hadn't seen the last of me either. "You still have a long way to go, Alek."

"Does that mean I'm not fired?"

"It means exactly what I said. You can stay. For now." She followed up this declaration with her customary hand placed against my chest. Her piercing eyes stared into mine.

I didn't know how much longer I could attempt to hide from someone who saw right through me.

"Please." She stood close enough for me to smell the jasmine oil she'd worn the last five days. Verity and the scent of jasmine made for an intoxicating mix. "Don't make me regret my choice."

Now, home for the first night since our trip, and in my own bed for the first time in what felt like forever, I was plagued by nightmares in which I'd failed everyone—Verity, her friends, Norvin, myself—and no one was happy with me. Even in this latest dream, me about to say goodbye to my pinky finger, I'd been plagued with an underlying fear that whatever Verity did to me, I'd deserve it.

By my request, Norvin met me at my apartment this time. It was my day off and no one was going to make me go anywhere, especially him.

"Taking a risk, are we?" he said as he let himself in, closing and bolting the door behind him.

"Verity has never been here," I said as he plopped himself down on my couch. "Besides, you had legal custody of me after my parents died. And we work together at a completely legitimate and well-reviewed treasure hunt business. There's little risk to have you come for a visit."

The reality was, I didn't want to meet him on neutral ground because I wasn't feeling particularly neutral towards him. I didn't offer him a drink, instead perching myself opposite of him like a gargoyle, waiting to see what sort of bullshit he'd pedal.

"Spill," he said.

"You first, old man."

"I'm not the one who's in the middle of an operation."

"Are you sure about that?"

He flicked a bit of fuzz off his vest. So nonchalant. So unbothered by my rudeness. "What are you getting at, Alek?"