Page 11 of The King (Masterpiece Duet 1)
And with a horrible click the calculation fell into place.
I scramble up from the chair, backing away. “Why are you here?” I whisper.
“What?” Damon looks confused, but I already know he’s a good liar.
“Is it some kind of trick? You tell me not to go so that I will?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Or maybe you’re here in case I say no. Like if I don’t go with Mr. Scott at school tomorrow you’ll be here waiting for me when I get back.”
“And do what?”
“I don’t know! Whatever people like you do. All I know is that it’s not a coincidence that I meet you and your father in the same week. It can’t be.”
Guilt flashes across his face. “Look, Penny.”
“Don’t say my name.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“You lied to me.”
“I left some stuff out.”
“That’s lying!”
“Okay, I lied. But not because I’m working with my dad. I swear to you.” He stands and paces in the small kitchen, his expression severe. “And I’m serious about what I said. Stay away from him.”
My lower lip trembles, and I bite down hard. It’s an old trick from when one of Daddy’s poker friends starts saying things I don’t like. I refused to cry in front of them.
Damon’s dark eyes flash. “I knew who you were because my dad keeps tabs on everyone. On people who owe him money. On people who might be useful to him. People like you.”
It’s warm outside and downright hot in the trailer. The poor air conditioning unit struggles against the coming summer, certain to lose that battle. But right now, standing in my bare feet on the kitchen linoleum, I feel freezing cold. I wrap my arms around myself.
My voice is small. “That’s why Daddy’s been gone so long, isn’t it?”
“He owed a lot of money.”
“You saw him?” A knot swells in my throat. “Is he alive?”
Damon shoves his hands across his chest, looking somehow older and younger at the same time. “He was desperate, okay? You have to understand that.”
I blink. “Okay.”
“People like that, they see their life flashing in front of their eyes. It breaks something inside them. And my father—he loves that moment. He lives for it.”
“What did he do?” I whisper.
“He starts talking about his daughter, how smart she is, all the things she can do. How you help him count cards. At first my father doesn’t care. He says, not that well since you ended up here. But your dad explains how you aren’t allowed at the high stakes games. That’s where he lost all his money.”
My insides feel wobbly, like I’m going to cry no matter how hard my nails press into my palm. “I don’t understand. If you were there, if you saw that, why did you come here?”
He shrugs, shaking his head like he doesn’t know the answer. “I meant to leave the city for good. That’s what I was doing. Running. Escaping. And I almost did it. I got on a grey bus heading west and pulled my cap low. Then I found myself getting off at the first stop. Hitching a ride back. And camping behind the trailer park.”
“Damon,” I say, pressing my hands together. This is how you pray. “What did Mr. Scott do to you?”
“What’s important is that he’s never gonna do it to you, understand? I’m going to stop him.”
I shake my head no, because I don’t understand. I know Damon is strong and smart, but how is he going to stop his father? And if he had any power over him, why did he leave in the first place?
“Yes,” Damon says, “but you need to keep your head down. No more reading about trigonometry. No more counting cards. That’s the deal we’re gonna make.”
“I don’t want any deal.” I don’t want you to leave.
“That’s the only way you see your daddy again. If I go back.”
My breath catches. “But why?”
“Because he owes a debt. You didn’t replace him, but someone has to.”
And then I can’t stop the tears. They’re hot and thick on my cheeks. I hate crying in front of him, but he doesn’t look like he feels sorry for me. He has this serious expression, like he’s waiting. Waiting for me to take the deal.
How can I say yes when that means sending Damon back to his father?
How can I say no when it means never seeing mine?
There’s two hundred dollars on the kitchen table, but it won’t last forever. Not long enough for me to be a young mother or a girl on the street corner. I’d starve before that. Or I would end up with Mr. Scott.
I shake my head, because I don’t want it to be true. “You can help me find him.”
“And then what? We all go on the run, one big happy family?”
His tone says that’s ridiculous. He’s mocking me, but it is what I want. “Maybe. Why is that wrong? We could be happy like that.”
