Page 103 of His Turn

Chapter Twenty-Five - Bric

She’s a hell of a player, I’ll give her that. Because she had me going for a little while. She had me thinking this was real. But then the word Master came out of her mouth.

Rage filled me up when she said that word. Rage.

That she would dare to play me like this after that call came in. Luc is dead. Dead. And while I can still be rational about this, and I know it’s not my fault—that he had his problems and they had nothing to do with me—it’s still my fault. Because three brothers and one sister called me this week asking for my help and I blew them off.

“Why?” she says.

The truck is loud, the wheels crunching on the snow-packed road as I make my way west. The heater is blaring. So her voice is small and weak. And even though yesterday that would almost be enough for me… today everything is different.

I don’t answer her. She’s getting more from me today than she deserves. I refuse to expose myself further.

“Just tell me why you’re so mad, Elias.”

Elias. I laugh, it’s such a joke.

“I get it, you’re upset about your brother—”

“Fuck you,” I say. “Just fuck you.”

“What did I do?” she says, almost pleading. And I’m almost convinced. But she’s nothing but a very good player.

She gives up after that. She’s stuck here with me. But that’s what she wanted. She took herself out of her element and now she’s in mine. I have all the power up here in the north. She has nothing but me.

Almost an hour later, after sitting in relative silence the entire time—Nadia pressing her head against the frozen window, me gripping the steering wheel so tight my hands ache—I pull into the motel parking lot and put the truck in park.

“Wait here,” I say, getting out of the truck and slamming the door.

Inside the hot air from a heater blasts my face. I look around the tiny lobby, then find the girl behind the counter. “Hey, Elias,” she says, frowning.

My niece, Mandy. Abrem’s youngest daughter. “Hey,” I say. “Just got in and I’m really tired. Is the room ready?”

“Sure,” she says, craning her neck a little to get a look at Nadia through the window. “Are you coming tonight? You could give me a ride home so my dad doesn’t have to come pick me up.”

“Of course,” I say. “What time do you get off?”

“Six. We’re having dinner at eight.”

“Should be…” I’m about to say a good time. Pull out all my Uncle Elias charm. Be the uncaring one. The happy one. The distant one. But I can’t do it. “It’s gonna be OK,” I say instead.

She’s been crying, I can see. Her eyes are red and her face is pale. She just nods as she fills out the little paper form with my name. I hand her my credit card, she runs it, and then slides a key on a plastic keychain across the counter. “Room nine.” And then she points. “That side of the building.”

“I’ll be here at six, OK?” I say, placing my hand on hers.

She just nods again, so I give that hand a squeeze and then turn away.

“Everyone’s happy you’re home,” she says, just as I open the door and let the cold in.

I smile at her over my shoulder and lie. “I’m happy to be home too.”

Nadia says nothing as I pull the car in front of room nine. We get out, I grab the suitcase, and then we shuffle through the door and into the room. The heat is on, because it’s not an icebox in here. But I turn it up anyway.

The cold kills you up here.

“There’s two beds,” Nadia says.

“Yup,” I say back. “One for me and one for you.”