Their Vicious Games(68)

Jacqueline looks up at me and says nothing, sniffing. She’s still too mellow to rile up.

Esme’s mouth twitches. “Careful, Walker. In here it’s all fun and games, playing in front of those who would protect you. But, tomorrow, out there in the maze—”

Her amusement digs at me, but I turn my gaze back to the endgame.

“Check,” Hawthorne says. She has Jacqueline’s king surrounded by two queens, leading to a loss no matter the direction it moves in, except forward, which ensures a knight will check her.

Jacqueline tips her king in submission to the knight.

“Checkmate,” Hawthorne says, and she giggles as Jacqueline huffs and slams her fist down. Leighton’s head snaps around like a bird of prey, and Jacqueline inhales sharply before she exhales slowly and calms again. Hawthorne looks up at me. “Fancy a friendly game, Adina?”

She actually is beginning to look friendly, amongst all the other sharks. I prepare to take her challenge. I have nothing to offer her. She’s ranked above me. It’s the right move—but then Esme slips around the table and sinks onto the edge next to Hawthorne. Hawthorne moves over but makes no move to stand.

“Play me, Walker,” Esme says.

I can only imagine what Esme would ask for. “No thanks.”

“Bawk, bawk,” Esme clucks.

“Are you three years old?” I demand. “Are you really calling me a chicken?”

“I am,” Esme says loftily. “Are you, Walker?”

I look over my shoulder. Saint is glaring at me, jerking her head back toward the bar.

“Are you going to play her?” Pierce asks eagerly, too close for comfort. He looks over at Esme, words dry as he says, “Don’t think about asking for her gun. I’ll just give it back.”

Esme doesn’t pretend to look surprised. “Yeah, yeah, we get it, Pierce. This isn’t actually about you, though.”

“It’s not what?” Pierce sniffs, offended.

“I’m asking you, Walker. Do you want to play a game?” Esme asks.

“Not with you,” I decide, taking a step around her to look over Penthesilea’s shoulder. She’s losing to Reagan, but I can’t tell if she’s doing it because she feels bad for her or if it’s an honest loss. Looking at Penthesilea’s face discerns nothing.

“You don’t get to walk away from me,” Esme says, dogging my steps. “I’m not letting this go. I’m not letting you go.”

“Why do I take up so much space in your head, Esme? I’m practically living there rent-free.”

“That’s good, then, seeing as that’s all you and your parents can afford.”

The mention of my parents stops me short. It doesn’t sting, but it reminds me again of Leighton. Leighton, who is looking at me. Leighton would play her. Leighton would win. I’m sure she did just that in her Finish, challenging girls, being as aggressive as possible. Now she expects that of me.

Still, there’s a difference between being soft and being stupid.

But there’s something about Esme that makes me stupid. That makes me angry.

And Pierce is watching, he is close, and him being close applies pressure. I can hear the unanswered question of Why her? from the other girls, mirroring my own question of Why me?

“Budge,” I command Jacqueline, practically ensuring that she’ll try to smother me in my sleep. I slide into the seat across from Hawthorne and Esme.

“Since I challenged you, what do you win, if you win?” Esme asks.

“We avoid each other in the maze,” I say. “If you see me or Saint… well, no, you didn’t.”

Esme smiles. “Are you that afraid of me?”

“No, you’re basically a cult leader. I’m afraid of your sycophants. No offense,” I say with full offense, looking up at Hannah G.

“Fine,” Esme says with a light shrug as we begin to set up the board. “And if I win…”

“What, I just keel over?” I say.

Esme shakes her head slowly. “You don’t sleep in your room tonight. You don’t sleep on your bed. You sleep in the hallway. On the floor.”

It sounds inane. Silly.

Chess hasn’t ever been something I’ve concerned myself with. I was already on questionable social ground being in yearbook and the fucking student council. Chess club would have done me in. But even if I lose, it’s just a night on the floor. I’ve slept in the back of my parents’ car before, trapped between two suitcases and a duffel bag. And if I win, it’s exactly the advantage Saint and I need.

“Fine. Let’s begin.”





CHAPTER 24





“THE CURRENT RANKING STANDS AS such: in first, we have Penthesilea. Then Saint, Esme, Hawthorne, Adina, Hannah G, Jacqueline, and Reagan.” Leighton’s voice booms across the grounds, as bright and high as the noon sun. The heat is stifling, my hair an unholy halo of frizz despite my best attempts to tame it this morning.

I do my best to mask my yawn, my body dripping with soreness from a night spent on a cold, hard floor. Each flex of my neck is a victory for Esme.

I hadn’t just lost. It was a bloodbath. Esme’s Cheshire grin widened more and more until it was practically a Glasgow as she made move after move. She didn’t have a strategy or a plan, which made it impossible to counter her. It was what the game was intended to demonstrate. Instead, she got lucky in her first ten moves and preyed on my franticness with each move thereafter. I knew I’d lost by move seven.