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I want to keep arguing, but I hate seeing that look in my mom’s eyes. That haunted painful look of being reminded of everything she’s trying so hard to forget. I sink into guilt, thinking it’s not my place to use past hurts to make her see this my way. Not knowing what else to do, I storm off to my room, shouting goodnight as I go.
With the door slammed behind me, I’m too hyped up to even thinking about getting into bed now. I want to cling to the beautiful image of Brendan punching Theo out, but it’s all ruined with his regret of doing it and their inability to see how Theo obviously orchestrated the whole thing.
It’s like Theo is some kind of sorcerer that’s cast a spell on everyone, but I’m immune to it. I wonder if when he showed up here for dinner the first time had really been my first time meeting him, I could have been just as easily persuaded to believe in him. But Emmett knows Theo from before then too and knows the full story of everything that’s happened. And even he has been won over.
Then I think maybe it’s Emmett that’s behaving like Marissa and not me at all. He’s so wrapped up in all the money he’s making and the promise of this successful career, he doesn’t even care if Theo is screwing people over in the process. As long as he’s not the one getting screwed. But that is exactly what I’m afraid is going to happen if I don’t put a stop to all of this.
I was pissed enough before with everything going on with Emmett and this new job offer, but now Theo is threatening my mom’s marriage. Her and Brendan are the two kindest, hardest-working most genuine souls in the world as far as I’m concerned, and they’re perfect for each other. I’m not about to let Theo tear them apart. That’s where I draw the line.
If I’m the only one who seems to be immune to his charms, then I’ll have to be the one to stop him.
20
Chapter Twenty
I lay flat across my back on my bed, relentlessly tossing a ball against the ceiling and catching it again. For the past few hours I’ve been manically rotating between this and restlessly pacing around my room. Anything to help rack my brain for some way to bring Theo down.
As the ball plummets back down to me again, I’m a little too slow to catch it and it ends up bouncing off to the side, sending a flurry of loose change crashing to the floor. As the coins scatter, I think?
??chips. Poker chips.
The whole reason Theo was blacklisted from the Elites and ran out of Jameson in the first place was that he embezzled money to pay off his bad gambling debts. A gambling addiction doesn’t just go away overnight, and while I could easily assume that high-risk business deals give him the thrill he’s seeking, I have to wonder if he’s still into gambling.
But what good does that do me? I don’t know anything about gambling, much less how to get enough proof that Theo is doing something illegal enough to help me out. But it’s a start and the only thing I have right now. The tricky part is that I don’t know if there is anyone who could actually help me with this. Anyone who would be capable of helping me probably wouldn’t. Theo has woven the perfect web of safety for himself.
Anyone who knows about the underbelly of Jameson might be able to point me in the right direction, but the only two people who fit that description, who don’t also hate me, are Emmett and Bridgett. There’s no way Emmett would actively help me bring Theo down with this new career prospect on the line. And while I’m sure Bridgett would help if she could, she hasn’t been living in Jameson long. There’s also the lingering fear that I don’t know how much I can trust her with. She is a Henderson after all.
Lily was once a friend, or at least pretended to be, but I can’t imagine what kind of help she would be from the rehab center. I’d try to visit her, but I don’t want to do anything to mess up her recovery from what Jameson turned her into.
Then it hits me. Vivian. Emmett’s ex-girlfriend. The former queen bee of the Elites before her parents were imprisoned for running a human sex trafficking ring. While she probably does still hate me, we did have a moment of humanity right before she left for New York. It’s a long shot, but every possible option is at this point. And maybe, just maybe, she’s mad enough at Theo for exposing her parents and fucking up her whole life that she’ll offer some assistance.
I open my laptop and send Vivian a message.
Hey. I hope New York is treating you well. I know you and I were never actually friends…so this is an awkward thing to ask. But Theo Nickelson is back and needs to be brought down. Any ideas on ways you could help? I have no one else I can turn to.
I sit and anxiously wait for her response, hoping and praying that she has become less of a monster during her time in New York. And that the Vivian who replies is the same one I saw a brief glimpse of in the hallway, hiding under the stairs at WJ Prep before she left town.
Vivian: What are you thinking?
Ophelia: He probably is still into illegal gambling. Any clue where I could start from there?
Vivian: Just outside of Jameson there is an underground poker ring that goes on every Friday night. I’ll send you the address. If Theo is still into that vice, he’ll be there. Good luck.
Wow, I think. Easy enough. I thank Vivian and resist the urge to try and press the conversation any further. Elites, past and present, are like landmines. You never know where or what they’re hiding or when they will explode. Better not to push my luck.
Using Vivian’s tip, I dress in my best top-secret spy outfit of all black and sneak off to the rumored location of the underground ring. It’s the kind of thing the average citizen of Jameson would probably know nothing about, but of course, an insider on the shady world of the Elites would have some clue.
I know I can’t just barge straight into an illegal gambling den. And truthfully, even if I spot Theo here, I’m not entirely sure what to do from there. I can only follow this trail of crumbs and hope it leads somewhere. There’s a big abandoned building taller than the little spot where the games are said to be held. I manage to get inside and make my way onto the roof just as the sun is setting.
While I lay in the darkness, waiting, I look up at the slowly emerging stars and think what a beautiful night it is. It’s a shame I have to spend it spying on my corrupt bio-dad. All the more reason to get out of Jameson as soon as possible. I’ve had countless moments of being baffled by the abnormality of life here.
I lose track of how much time has passed when cars finally start pulling up to the building down below. A myriad of characters start going into the building, each one knocking in a certain way and then entering after being prompted for some kind of password. Everyone from guys in fancy suits with beautiful women on their arms to nervous-looking suburban-type guys in polo shirts.
Just when I am about to give up on catching any glimpse of Theo, I see his car pull around to the side and park. But he doesn’t go into the same entrance the rest of the people did. He has a key and unlocks a secret side entrance. I use my phone to catch the best blurry and dark shots I can of him going inside, then I snap a few of his car just to be safe. But it’s not enough. I know I need more than that.
I look around the roof frantically, trying not to accept the possibility that I have hit a dead end on this little adventure. Then a door on the roof next door catches my eye. It’s next to some old and broken poles and lines, which look like they were once used for hanging laundry. If someone were using that passageway to hang their laundry to dry, where would the door lead? The basement? A laundry chute? Even if any access point exists there, is it still safe to use?
I spot a few boards on the rooftop and know the only way to find out is to travel across and see. But there are a few guards waiting around outside, keeping watch. One wrong move and they’ll catch me and then who knows what would happen to me. Theo has been keeping up this nice act when everyone is around to see, but I know if it came down to it, he wouldn’t give a damn about what happened to me.
