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“And we’re not abducting anyone.”
He rolls his eyes, and rubs his hand over the back of his neck, most likely trying to ease the tension.
“How do you fuckers keep dragging me into this shit?”
I take another sip of my soda, thoroughly enjoying his frustration. It feels good not to be the only one completely pissed about having to do this bullshit mission.
“Not sure on that one, but we’re in this for the long haul now. And as for the rest of my instructions, take a seat so I can make sure we’re on the same page. This isn’t going to be a typical night, and the details have to be just right to get this over with as quickly as possible.”
He groans and finishes off the bottle he’s holding.
Smiling at that, I finish off the soda I’m drinking and figure this will be over in twenty-four hours or less.
Brinley sounds like the easiest target the Inferno’s had so far.
She’s timid.
She’s sheltered.
And that’s just the type of person who has no idea how to navigate the games I know how to play.
I have no worries at all about this particular game.
How difficult can a woman like Brinley actually be?
Brinley
Have you ever thought that we are all pre-designed to fit a particular role in this life? Not predestined as most people come to think of the term. And not in a religious way or anything like that.
But pre-designed.
Like puzzle pieces, if you will, all of our sides carved into particular shapes so that we can eventually snap right into place, our entire makeup engineered by a mix of genetics, ancestry and location.
It doesn’t simply define how we’ll look, our physical features only one small part of the details that make us who we are. Instead, it defines everything about us: our personality, our hopes and dreams, our temperaments and nightmares, our goals and aspirations…our ability to fulfill those aspirations when, and if, the time comes.
I’m not saying people are born to succeed or fail, it just feels like, sometimes, no matter what we do to define ourselves in a world of billions of people, fate always leads us to the same place, regardless of how hard we struggle to change it.
At least that’s how it feels to me.
Fate has always been a damn pinball machine in my life, a path clearly drawn to where I’ll end up.
No matter how hard I fight to escape the inevitable or how many side steps I make to escape that path, something always comes along to knock me right back on the straight and narrow, regardless of whether I want to be here or not.
Maybe I was simply born to be stereotypical and boring. I can accept that. Sleep well despite it. Walk through my days following routines and patterns that keep me snug in a safe zone where nothing dangerous or unusual happens because the bubble my father constructed for me is a defense against the pitfalls of life.
I’m not sure it’s mentally or emotionally healthy to spend as much time in my head as I do. But where else can I go to experience anything other than the bland, white walls of my dorm room, among row after row of textbooks and literature in the college library or the pages of every book I’ve hungrily devoured in search of something other than the confines of my mild and tedious existence?
“I’m happy you’re coming tonight, Brin.”
A black pleather corset smacks me in the face, followed by matching pants. Two thumps on the bed beside me feel like heavy platform boots, most likely in black as well.
It’s Ames’s standard uniform for her dancing job. At least on the nights Granger doesn’t complain and ask her to show more skin.
“It’s been a while since you’ve spent any time in Myth on the nights you drop me off.”
Shoving the clothes off my head, I glance up to see Ames tearing through her closet more, a towel clutched close to her chest, water still dripping from the ends of her wild blue hair.
She didn’t intend to plow me with clothes, she’s just too busy ripping apart her wardrobe in search of something else to finish up the outfit she’s creating.
