Burning Ultimatum (Trevor's Harem #4) (14 page)

I can’t run.
 

I won’t walk.
 

I can’t stop the man, even if I find him.
 

I can’t find him.
 

But I won’t stop looking, knowing there’s nothing to be done.
 

My mind flashes back to my last meeting with the board. It was naive and stupid to think I’d handled things. I remember how cocky I felt, as the
love bomb
settled, especially between Alexa and Welty. Alexa believed; Welty didn’t. But both were effectively handled. Alexa is looking for something to pour her faith into; that’s half of her quest. Eros would claim this contest is about uncovering and then developing an asset. Finding the business version of a
chosen one
. But for Alexa, it’s barely a joke. For Alexa, this is a long game. A
very
long game. If she could find a way to be immortal, she’d play the game for thousands of years, however long it took.
 

But Welty? He wouldn’t stop staring, as if he saw right through me. Epigenetics is a real thing. Environment truly does change DNA, and not just through radiation. What I told the board made sense:
Love made Bridget strong. Love made Bridget special.
Problem is, I made it up, as much sense as it potentially made. And Welty knew it, I’m sure.

His parting words: “I guess we’ll see.”

Meaning he’d be watching.
 

Meaning he wouldn’t wait for assessments. He’d keep his eyes on the live feeds, miss sleep to see where I went, where Bridget went, what we did and said. I didn’t think it mattered. We all knew to stay public until the final elimination, and keep out of the hidden room lest it look like we’re hiding more than we already are. We all knew the sorts of things we could discuss for the microphones’ benefit, and what we had to keep under wraps.
 

Jessica’s rolled eyes could raise Walty’s suspicion, if he was watching. But whatever; an allegiance is only bending the rules.

But what Bridget said could bring it all falling down.
 

I turn one corner. Then another. I run into a big, lumpy wall when reaching the third: Tony.

“Tony,” I say, exhaling with relief. “Thank God you’re here. Look. I need you to track down a page. Short guy. Very pale. Little mustache.”
 

Tony laughs a little. He smiles. The hallway’s doors have all been closed — he must have seen the man because he’d have had to scuttle right by. He’s a bit farther on. Tony can catch him for me, get the man’s attention without attracting more suspicion. As to what we do next? Well, that’s a question for later.
 

“You want Tim,” he says.
 

“Yes. Tim. I need to talk to Tim.”

“You seem to be in a rush.”
 

“It’s urgent.”
 

“Why do you need to talk to Tim?” Tony asks.
 

“I just do.”
 

I consider brushing past Tony to avoid the conversation. But he’s a giant — there’s no way I can get by without shoving.
 

“Never mind. Just let me by.”
 

Tony looks down at me. His face is conflicted, but he doesn’t step aside.
 

“Tony. I
really
need to talk to him. Right away. Will you please just let me find him?”
 

“Tell you what,” Tony finally says. “Why don’t I find him and bring him back to the dining room?”
 

I look up at Tony’s massive form. I haven’t seen him for two days. Him or Logan or Richard. We’ve gone from a house of hedonism to one of monogamists. Trevor is with Jessica, and I’m with Bridget. Our hired studs are no longer needed, and it strikes me to wonder if they’ve asked anyone why.
 

I’m supposed to be objective, off limits, beyond the contestants’ reach.
 

Trevor is supposed to be open, trying the girls out, playing the field to find a match to what the board wants for Eros, and a match for himself, at least in the public eye. An arranged marriage that fires on many cylinders.
 

But these days, we don’t need them. And it likely strikes them as strange.
 

“How did you know we’re in the dining room?”
 

“Just head on back, boss,” Tony says. “I’ll find Tim for you.”
 

“Tony? How did you know where we were?”
 

“It won’t take long,” Tony says.
 

I try to dart past him on one side, but Tony effortlessly pivots to block me. I try the other side, and the standoff repeats.
 

“I don’t know what Welty told you, but I promise he’s not on your side.”
 

Tony crosses his arms.

“Let me through, Tony. You and I go too far back for this.”
 

“I’m sorry, boss,” Tony says. “I’m just following company orders.”
 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Jess?”
 

After Daniel leaves the room and Trevor rises to follow, it’s just the two of us at the little white-linen table with the expensive silverware and extravagant modern flatware. I watch my coffee swirl, from the stir I gave it what feels like minutes ago. The ice in my water catches the light inside its crystal prison. Soft violins fill the air. I hadn’t noticed the strings until now.
 

Jess’s eyes are here, there, everywhere. I know I’ve done something wrong, and I know that as ridiculous as it sounds, it has something to do with my allergy. But I can’t imagine what about that could possibly merit such silent seriousness. Maybe there’s an assault force at the gates, armed with peanuts. Daniel and Trevor have rushed off to protect me, and Jessica’s quiet because a sniper has a bag of peanuts aimed at her head.
 

“What’s going on, Jess?”

She looks around the room, toward me, then around the room again. She seems to wrestle with a difficult decision, then rises, takes my arm, and drags me to a spot near a table with edges that I swear look like real gold. She grabs a pillow on the way, then flops us onto a couch, lies almost flat, and gets very close to me with the pillow over our faces. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she wanted to make out. We’re incredibly tight between the couch, the pillow, and each other. I can smell her face cream. I can smell her breath.
 

“You’re not allergic to peanuts,” Jessica says.
 

“What?”
 

“You heard me, Bridget. You’re not allergic. Okay? There was a time, before the rock climbing trip, when we were standing around, before they split us up, and Ivy was hungry. Do you remember that?”
 

“What the hell are you talking about, Jess?” It’s getting hot in here, and it must look terrible. Only, Jessica is making it worse, running her hand up my side, inches from feeling me up. I shake her off, but she persists.
 

“Let it stay!”
she hisses. “We’re in some shit right now, and if I have to eat you out to make it look good for the cameras, I’ll do it, and you’ll let me. Because this isn’t just about you anymore. Do you understand me?”
 

Jessica is so close to me, her intense eyes are like headlights in the dark. I’ve never seen her like this. She’s panicked but strong. It’s a good look on her, as shocked as it makes me.
 

“Do you understand?”
 

I feel the hand and dismiss it. I do understand. This must look odd to anyone watching, but it’s better that the lookers believe we’re lesbians drawn into an opportunistic tryst rather than conspiracy. Jessica is doing an excellent job of dividing her attention, pawing me with her hand while awaiting my response. Business and pleasure, rolled into one.
 

“Y-yes,” I stammer.
 

“That day, with the rock climbing. Ivy said she was hungry. Abbie asked if we were going to eat soon. Kylie joked that they’d probably make us sandwiches. Ivy said, ‘Yeah, they’ll probably pack us PB&J.’ And you looked at her. Got it?”
 

I blink, afraid to say I haven’t
got it
at all.
 

“Bridget?”

“O-okay. Yes.” The pillow over our faces, meant to dampen sound in what I can only assume is a space Jess remembers as being somewhat of an auditory dead spot, feels claustrophobic. My face is hot. Our breath fogs the small space between fabric. It makes me want to sweat, and escape into the cool room air.

“Do you remember?”
Jessica demands.
 

“Do I remember
looking at Ivy?”
I say, sure I’m getting this absurd turn of events wrong.
 

“I can only work with what actually happened. I’d be great if you’d said something about peanuts, but you didn’t. Halo
knows
you didn’t. But you
did
look at her, Bridget. That’s subtle enough that we can argue it.”
 

“Argue
what?”
It comes out too loud, almost angry. I’m so frustrated. Jessica is clearly freaking out, rushing like a clock is ticking. But I don’t know what the hell this is about, though my heart has ramped up to a thousand beats per minute regardless.
 

“That it was meaningful when you looked at Ivy. That it was the sort of signal Halo might have misinterpreted as you having a peanut allergy.”
 

“But I
do
have a peanut allergy!”
 

The supposedly groping hand grips me instead. Jessica gets a fistful of boob, and it hurts.
 

“No you
do not!
Do you understand me? You are
not
allergic to peanuts, Bridget! That’s the story! And if, when Daniel comes back, someone brings you a bag of nuts to prove it, you’d better stick a condom in your mouth or something — whatever it takes to swallow them and live. Do you get me?”
 

I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, I’m so completely baffled. It must show on my face because Jessica takes a deep breath and whispers on, speaking quickly.
 

“What you said just now. About how you haven’t seen peanut butter in the house since you mentioned your allergy?”
 

I nod.
 

“You haven’t seen it between the day you mentioned your allergy and now because Halo heard you and took it off the menu.”
 

“But they brought us peanut butter today.”
 

“That’s right,” Jessica says. “Because this morning, Daniel fed the footage of your encounter with Kylie back into Halo, causing the algorithm to erase it. So it’s like Halo has amnesia. It no longer has a record of you saying you have a peanut allergy, so it’s free to serve you peanut butter.”
 

“Halo has forgotten I’m allergic because you
erased
the day I said it from its memory?”
 

Jessica nods.

“Why did you erase it?”
 

She heavily sighs then resumes her heavy petting. It probably looks hot from the hidden cameras in the room, but I’ve never experienced anything less erotic.
 

“Up until now,” Jessica says, “we’ve been erasing events that would give the rest of us points so you would score better by comparison, and therefore advance in the competition.”
 

“I get that.”
 

“But now that it’s just us, we need to be sure I win. And that means taking points from you, so I’ll score higher.”
 

“Okay. But that day with Kylie, with my peanut allergy — ”

“I’ve reviewed all the footage Daniel could show me. Remember, my brain forgets nothing. In the first half of that encounter, before you followed Kylie down the hallway and eventually ran into us, while you were still back in the dining room … well, you were clearly winning against Kylie.”
 

I want to laugh. I never
won
against Kylie. Daniel cheated to keep me here. That’s the only reason I’m still here and Kylie isn’t. Well, that plus Caspian White.
 

Jessica’s eyes tell me she’s serious. In that encounter, at the start, I was apparently the victor. “Outmaneuvering someone like Kylie, whose special talent is maneuvering? That’s
points
, Bridget. Daniel can only guess at how Halo scores us, but that
has
to mean something big. So I told him to erase it. But your peanut allergy went with it. Do you see the problem?”

“Halo thinks I don’t have a peanut allergy.” I’m just repeating words, not sure why they matter.
 

“That’s right. And the collateral damage was fine, until you mentioned your allergy aloud just now.
And worse,
that Halo should have
already
known about it, because you’ve talked about the allergy before.”

“I … I had no idea.”

“You know they’re watching us especially close right now, Bridge,” she says, shortening my name to soften the sting of accusation. “And you just pointed out something that Halo should’ve seen and acted on that it mysteriously no longer remembers. They’ll know, Bridget. They’ll know we found a way to erase information from Halo’s memory. And if that little mustache is headed out to tattle on us, you can bet we’ll be fucked.
Hard
. They’ll look at the raw Halo records and find a bunch of footage missing. Then it’ll all be over. Daniel will be kicked out of the company. And maybe Trevor. You’ll probably be disqualified. They’ll know I helped Daniel trick them, and they’ll get me, too.”
 

When Jessica says “get me,” my mind shows me a vision of Kylie being escorted from the Great Room by the two Russian mobsters. I don’t want to lose the money I’ve earned, or for anyone else to take a financial hit, but I wonder if finance is as far as it’d go. Eros has billions, and it’s clear Trevor doesn’t control it all by himself. This contest is extremely important, whatever it is. And if Jessica and I are both ousted, there’ll be nobody left. It’ll fail, and powerful people will surely be unhappy.