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Home / Romance / THE THIRTY-DAY GAMBLE / Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

All Chapters of THE THIRTY-DAY GAMBLE: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

66 Chapters

CHAPTER 21

"You stay behind me and you don’t breathe a word. Do you understand?"Jonathan’s voice didn't shake. It was a cold blade cutting through the thick, rhythmic pulse of the sirens. He didn't wait for an answer. He shoved Benjamin back against the damp brick, his large frame blocking the boy from the street. The red and blue lights strobed against the alley walls, turning the wet pavement into a flickering bruised purple.Benjamin’s chest heaved. His lungs felt like they were filled with crushed glass. "Jonathan, the bag... they saw me with the bag...""There is no bag." Jonathan pulled a burner phone from his pocket, his thumb flying over the screen. He didn't look at the flashing lights approaching the mouth of the alley. "Shut up and look pretty. Let me handle the heavy lifting."He pressed the phone to his ear. His jaw was a hard line of granite. "Marcus. I'm in the industrial district. North alley of the meatpacking plant. I have two cruisers at the perimeter. Kill the dispatch repor

CHAPTER 22

"You’re telling me I’m sharing a desk with this guy? For three hours? Every single day?"Benjamin’s voice cracked, the sound bouncing off the sterile white walls of the newly renovated Northwood High Resource Center. He pointed a trembling finger at the man standing by the window. Jonathan Hayes didn't look like a student. He looked like he’d just bought the building, which, technically, he had."It’s not a request, Parker," Principal Miller said, his eyes glued to the floor. He refused to look at the massive 'Hayes Foundation' logo newly etched into the glass door. "Mr. Hayes is part of the Elite Academic Exchange. He’s here to mentor you. His donation built this wing. The least you can do is sit still and learn something.""He’s a shark in a designer suit, not a tutor!" Benjamin’s chest hove. He gripped the edge of the mahogany table, his knuckles white.Jonathan finally turned. He didn't smile. He just adjusted his cufflinks, the gold catching the fluorescent light with a clinical

CHAPTER 23

"You’re kidding me. Tell me you’re f**king kidding me."Benjamin slammed his hand against the side of the rusted moving van, the metal rattling under the impact. The sidewalk was a graveyard of cardboard boxes and bubble wrap. Men in charcoal-grey uniforms—too professional for this neighborhood, too expensive for this zip code—carried a velvet-tufted headboard through the narrow lobby door of his building."I don't make jokes about real estate, Benjamin. It's a waste of capital."Jonathan stood at the top of the concrete steps, silhouetted against the dim amber glow of the lobby's flickering light. He wasn't in a suit. He wore a heavy black sweater, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, exposing the thick veins of his forearms. He looked down at Benjamin like he was surveying a newly conquered province."What is this?" Benjamin took the stairs two at a time, his sneakers squeaking on the grit. He shoved past a mover carrying a crate of crystal glassware. "You bought the building? The whole

CHAPTER 24

"You’re doing it wrong. Again. Hold the pen like you actually graduated middle school, Benjamin."Jonathan’s voice scraped against the silence of the library. He didn't look up from his own tablet. He just sat there, the light from the desk lamp carving deep, predatory hollows into his cheeks. The air in the private study wing was thick, smelling of old paper and the sharp, ozone tang of the new ventilation system."I’m holding it fine, Jonathan. Maybe the equations just don't make sense because you're breathing down my neck." Benjamin gripped the stylus harder. His knuckles were raw, the skin red from where he’d been rubbing them against the edge of the mahogany table."The equations make sense. Your focus is what's broken." Jonathan reached out. He didn't grab the pen. He grabbed the open bottle of permanent black ink sitting between them. With a flick of his wrist—calculated, precise—the glass tipped.A heavy, dark arc of ink splashed across the front of Benjamin’s white cotton shi

CHAPTER 25

"Who the hell is that guy, Ben? The one in the leather jacket by the gate?"Olivia's voice crackled through the phone, high and thin. Benjamin froze in the middle of the school corridor. He gripped the plastic casing of his phone until his knuckles went numb. The air in the hallway felt suddenly thin, smelling of floor wax and old lockers."What guy? Liv, stay in the crowd. Where are you?""Just leaving campus. He’s been leaning against a black bike for twenty minutes. He looked right at me. He’s... Ben, he’s smiling at me. It’s creepy. Do you know him?"Benjamin’s stomach bottomed out. He didn't need a description. He knew the shark-grin. He knew the way Nathaniel Price picked his teeth while he watched a target."Don't look at him. Walk toward the bus stop. Now. Stay where there are people, Liv. I'm coming to get you.""What the f**k is going on, Ben? You’re scaring me!""Just move!" Benjamin slammed his locker shut, the metal bang echoing like a gunshot.He spun around and collided

CHAPTER 26

"Don't touch that. It’s not for you."Jonathan’s voice cracked through the silence of the penthouse like a whip. Benjamin jerked his hand back, the small velvet box nearly slipping from his damp palm. The air in the room was stagnant, smelling of expensive cologne and the metallic tang of the building’s air filtration."It was just sitting on the nightstand, Jonathan. I didn't think it was a state secret." Benjamin wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. He looked at the box—deep navy, worn at the edges where fingers had smoothed the fabric over and over."Everything in this room is a secret if I say it is." Jonathan stepped out of the shadows by the walk-in closet. He wasn't wearing his blazer anymore. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the dark ink of a tattoo Benjamin hadn't noticed before—a series of coordinates etched into the inside of his wrist."What's in it?" Benjamin’s voice was a mere rasp. "Jewelry? For the next girl you decide to ca

27

"You’re the new face of the Northwood Wolves, Parker. Captain’s badge is on the desk. Don’t get blood on it."Coach Miller didn’t look up from his clipboard. He just tapped a thick, calloused finger against a heavy gold-plated pin sitting on the scarred wood of his desk. The office smelled of stale sweat, sour laundry, and the sharp, chemical tang of the new floor wax Jonathan’s money had bought.Benjamin didn't move. He stood in the doorway, his sneakers digging into the industrial carpet. "I didn’t win the vote, Coach. Miller and Thompson have been in the program for four years. I’ve been here for five minutes.""Votes are for student council, kid." Miller finally looked up, his eyes bloodshot and fixed on the door behind Benjamin. He looked like he was staring at a ghost—or a man who owned his mortgage. "We went with leadership potential. And resources. You’ve got both.""Resources? You mean Jonathan Hayes’ checkbook?" Benjamin’s voice cracked. He surged forward, his hand slamming

28

"Drink it, Benjamin. Stop fighting me."Jonathan’s voice lacked its usual bite. It was a low, steady vibration in the dark of the penthouse. He sat on the edge of the mattress, a ceramic bowl in his hands. Steam curled into the air, smelling of ginger and honey."I don't... I don't want anything from you." Benjamin’s voice was a dry rasp. He tried to push himself up, but his elbows buckled. His skin felt like it was melting off his bones. The silk sheets were a damp, tangled mess against his fever-flushed legs."You're burning up. You hit 103 an hour ago. If you don't hydrate, I’m taking you to the ER, and we both know how many questions they’ll ask about those bruises on your wrists." Jonathan leaned forward. He didn't wait for permission. He slid a heavy, cool arm behind Benjamin’s neck, hoisting him up.The contrast was a physical shock. Jonathan’s skin was like ice against Benjamin’s furnace-hot neck."F-fuck... it’s too cold." Benjamin shivered, his teeth clacking together. He re

29

"You’re staining the mahogany, Benjamin. Move."Jonathan didn’t look up from his tablet, but his hand was already in motion. A flick of his wrist. The heavy glass bottle of permanent black ink tipped. It didn't just fall; it dove. The liquid hit Benjamin’s white cotton shirt in a violent, spreading bloom of charcoal. It soaked through the fabric instantly, cold and clinging against his skin."What the—! Jonathan!" Benjamin scrambled back, his chair legs screaming against the marble floor of the private study wing. He looked down at his chest. The stain was a jagged heart of black, weeping toward his waistband. "That’s my only clean shirt. Do you have any idea what this costs to replace?""I'll buy you ten more. Relax." Jonathan stood up, his movements fluid, predatory. He didn't reach for a napkin. He reached for Benjamin’s collar. "Take it off. The ink is caustic. It’ll itch like hell once it dries.""I’m not stripping in the middle of the library." Benjamin swiped at the mess, but h

30

"Where the hell is it?"My fingers scrambled against the underside of the mahogany desk. Sweat dripped into my eye. Stung. I wiped it with my shoulder. The penthouse was too quiet. Only the distant, muffled hiss of the shower from across the hall signaled that Jonathan was occupied.The stolen key felt heavy in my pocket. Cold. I’d swiped it from his blazer while he was distracted by a phone call about some merger. My pulse hammered against my throat. One mistake and I wasn't just kicked out of the program. I was dead.I turned the dial on the wall safe. Right. Left. Right again.Click.The heavy steel door swung open. No sound. Just the smell of cold metal and ozone. I reached inside. My hand brushed past stacks of hundreds and a black leather folder. There. In the back.The velvet box."Got you, you bastard." I pulled it out. My hands shook. This was it. The evidence of the bet. The contract. The proof that my life was just a game of numbers for the Ice Prince.I flipped the latch.

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