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CHAPTER 7
Última actualización:
2026-03-07 03:28:01
Último capítulo
THE THIRTY-DAY GAMBLE CHAPTER 12
The deadbolt gave way with a muffled click. Jonathan stepped into the apartment, the door swinging shut behind him. No one was there. The air was stale, trapped. It carried a hint of cheap laundry detergent and something else. Something sharp. Benjamin.Jonathan stood in the entryway. He didn't turn on the lights. Gray afternoon glow filtered through the grime on the windows, illuminating the dust motes hanging in the silence. He walked toward the center of the room. The space was small. Drab. A far cry from the marble and glass of the penthouse.He reached the kitchen. A half-eaten bowl of cereal sat on the counter. A single spoon leaned against the porcelain. Jonathan’s fingers brushed the handle of the spoon. Still cool. He moved to the bedroom.The door creaked. He stepped onto the threadbare carpet. The bed was unmade. Sheets tangled. One pillow was shoved toward the headboard, the other on the floor. Jonathan knelt by the bed. He pressed his face into the fabric of the pillow.B
THE THIRTY-DAY GAMBLE CHAPTER 11
"You sure about this, Parker? You look like you're about to crack in half."Nathaniel leaned against the rusted lockers, his shadow stretching across the concrete floor of the Northwood gym. He held a small, amber vial between two fingers. The liquid inside was clear, catching the harsh overhead fluorescent light."I’m fine," Benjamin snapped. He pulled his gym bag strap higher over his shoulder. The weight of his cleats felt like lead. Every muscle in his back was a screaming knot of tension. His skin felt too tight, like he was trying to hold himself together with sheer willpower."Bullshit." Nathaniel stepped closer. He didn't smell like the expensive, woodsy cologne Jonathan wore. He smelled like iron, mint, and something chemical. "You’ve been out on that field for five hours. Miller’s gonna work you into the dirt, and then what? You go back to that empty apartment and stare at the walls? You’re shaking, Ben."Benjamin looked down at his hands. They were vibrating. A fine, uncont
THE THIRTY-DAY GAMBLE CHAPTER 10
"Hey. You’re Parker, right? The transfer?"The voice was like thick honey over a bed of gravel. Benjamin didn't look up from the bench press. He just gripped the cold, knurled steel of the barbell, his knuckles white and trembling. One more rep. The iron plates clattered as he shoved the bar back onto the rack, his chest heaving. Sweat dripped from his chin, stinging his eyes.A hand appeared in his field of vision. It was holding a bottle of chilled water, the condensation slick against a palm covered in heavy, rhythmic calluses."Take it. You look like you’re about to pass out, man."Benjamin sat up, wiping his face with the hem of his damp shirt. He took the bottle. It was freezing. "Thanks.""I’m Nathaniel. Nathaniel Price." The guy didn't move. He stood there, legs braced, radiating a kind of heat that made the air in the Northwood gym feel even smaller. He wore a cut-off hoodie with the 'Northwood Wolves' crest stitched in jagged silver thread across the chest. "I’ve been watchi
THE THIRTY-DAY GAMBLE CHAPTER 9
"You coming or what, Parker? We’re grabbing burgers."Benjamin didn't look up from his locker. He just shoved his mud-caked cleats into a plastic bag, the smell of wet earth and stale sweat thick in the cramped Northwood locker room. "Nah. I’m good, Miller. Just gonna head home.""Suit yourself. You look like hell, man. Get some sleep."The heavy metal door slammed shut, leaving Benjamin in a silence that felt heavier than the workout. He waited. Five minutes. Ten. He didn't want to walk out with the others. He didn't want the questions about why he didn't laugh at their jokes or why he spent four hours hitting a sled until his shoulder was a bruised, purple mess.He stepped out of the gym. The sky had completely given up. It wasn't just raining; the clouds were dumping buckets of cold, grey spite onto the concrete. He pulled his hood up, the black fabric already soaking through. His old yellow hoodie was buried in a dumpster three towns back. This one was thin. Cheap. Just like his n
THE THIRTY-DAY GAMBLE CHAPTER 8
"You’re really doing it then? You’re actually pulling the plug?"Nathaniel Price leaned against the doorframe of the Hayes family office, his eyes fixed on the man sitting behind the slab of black obsidian that served as a desk. Jonathan didn't answer. He didn't even look up from the tablet in his hand. His fingers moved with a rhythmic, clinical precision, swiping through the legal documents that would, by sunrise, erase the Foster family’s primary supply chain from the map."The board is already screaming, Jonathan," Nathaniel continued, his voice dropping an octave. "Your father is going to have a stroke when he sees the acquisition costs. You’re overpaying by thirty percent just to starve them.""Let him scream." Jonathan finally looked up. His eyes were flat, the irises looking like chips of frozen slate. He hadn't slept more than three hours a night since the gala. His cheekbones were sharper, the skin beneath his eyes bruised with a purple exhaustion. "Andrew thought he was pla
THE THIRTY-DAY GAMBLE CHAPTER 7
"Get the hell off my field!"Coach Miller’s voice tore through the heavy, humid air of Northwood High. He didn't look like the pampered coaches at St. Jude’s. He looked like he’d been carved out of a granite block and left in the rain.Benjamin didn't stop. He didn't even flinch. His cleats hammered into the waterlogged turf, sending up sprays of grey mud with every explosive stride. He hit the heavy tackling sled, the metal frame shrieking as it scraped across the grass. His shoulder dipped, his legs drove, and he didn't stop until the sled had moved five yards."I said get off!" Miller marched over, his heavy boots sinking into the muck. "The sun went down twenty minutes ago, kid. You’ve been out here for four hours. My janitor wants to lock the gates."Benjamin straightened up. He didn't wipe the sweat from his face. He didn't offer a polite smile. He just stared through the coach, his chest heaving, his eyes two flat, dark stones. The black dye from his hair had run down his neck
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