How are we all holding up through this quarantine stuff? Sorry this took so long. I wanted to help entertain you while you are stuck at home, but I was having a hard time deciding exactly how I wanted it to play out next. I know where I'm going but not always how I'm getting there...


CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO


TRIS


"God, the things you do to me," Tobias pants, resting his sweaty brow on my bare shoulder. "This is why I was avoiding you."

"Me!" I exclaim in outrage. "That was all you. I was the voice of reason, reminding you about what Amar said."

He lifts his head, grinning at me impishly. "I can't help it. I just can't keep my hands off you." He runs his hand down the bare skin of my torso, emphasizing his point. "I'll have to hide it better tomorrow or Amar will kick my ass. At practice that day it was like I was wearing a sign on my back announcing that I had sex."

I giggle. "I can see why, with that goofy smile on your face. You may as well scream, 'I got laid!'"

"Well," he presses a quick kiss to my collarbone and flops onto his back, using one arm to pull me against him. I curl into his side. "That's just how happy you make me."

I sigh and close my eyes, feeling completely content. His hand traces my spine and back with a feather-light touch. A few hours ago I would never have believed that this was how the night would end. I was convinced that he was done with me, that he didn't care about me anymore and maybe never had to begin with. The thought makes me frown. I was so happy to learn that I was wrong that I may have forgiven him too easily.

"Tobias," I say quietly. He hums in response. He is so relaxed―an unusual state of being for him. I watch him for a moment, until he cracks one eye open to look at me. Things are too perfect in this moment; this is a discussion that can wait for later. "I could use a shower. Care to join me?"

"Do you really have to ask?" he smirks. I smile back and climb out of bed, reaching out a hand to pull him behind me.

Half an hour later, we are back in my bed. Tobias's bare skin feels cool and clean against mine. My head rests on his chest, my hair fanned out behind me over his shoulder and arm. We didn't realize until we were already in the shower that he had left his gym bag in the car, so he had to use my body wash and shampoo. I can't help smiling my amusement at the floral scent that has strongly attached itself to his skin.

"Marcus took me to meet some 'colleagues' last night," he admits. I tilt my face up so I can see his. He is staring at the ceiling, fingers absently carding through my damp hair.

"Who were they?" I ask. We discovered last week that Marcus took over my father's job when he took the promotion in New York, and I have many times attended dinners with my father's Chicago colleagues in the past. I probably know most of the executives and upper-management in the office.

Tobias shakes his head. "That's the thing. I don't think they were from work. They didn't ever introduce themselves, but I heard them call one another Max and Rigs. And…" I can feel the tension in his muscled chest and arms. "And we met in this seedy bar. They asked a lot of questions about football and scouts and college plans."

I frown. In my experience, business dinners have always taken place in either fancy restaurants downtown. The only exceptions were the few times that Dad brought someone home for dinner. It was always someone he worked closely with, and Caleb and I were expected to dress in nice clothing and follow a strict code of conduct. We were never included in the conversation beyond a few polite questions about school.

"What did they want?" I wonder.

Tobias is silent for a long moment, then finally looks at me. "They didn't ask me for anything," he says slowly, "but after they left… Marcus told me, in no uncertain terms, that I am to fail at a pass in the third quarter and turn the ball over to Erudite."

I am suddenly very alert. Saturday's game is the state championship. It's a very important game. And his father wants him to… "He asked you to fix the game?" I reiterate breathlessly, shifting to rest my chin on his chest, on top of my hand. We stare at each other.

Tobias doesn't answer, finding it unnecessary. He knows what he said, and I know what I heard. "I pointed out that there will be scouts there and I need to play well. He just said, 'I suppose you won't have room to make any other mistakes, will you?'"

I shake my head in disbelief. "He's gambling on the game," I declare. "Why? And what did those men have to do with it?"

With a sigh, Tobias shakes his head. "I don't know, Tris. They ― they looked like cops, but that doesn't make sense."

"Hmm." There are crooked cops out there, I know that. But what would Marcus want with them? And wouldn't it be risky for them to meet with a minor in a bar? I shake my head. "What are you going to do?"

Tobias rests his head back on the pillow and stares up at the ceiling once again. "I don't know. I don't want to let the team down. I don't want to let Marcus control my life anymore."

I hesitate before speaking. A part of me just wants to tell him to do what Marcus says, to not risk bringing his wrath. But Tobias is better than that. I know he is. But I'm not sure that he knows it too. And I realize with sudden clarity… that is exactly why I am the one he confides in: because I see what he doesn't.

I steel away my fear and force myself not to shake as I suck in a deep breath. "Then I think you have your answer."


FOUR


I can't keep the smile off my face as I scale the concrete steps to my second-story apartment. Just twenty minutes ago, I awakened with the most beautiful nearly-naked girl in my arms, my nose in her hair, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her shampoo. I can still smell it out, since I used the same products on myself last night. I smell like a girl; I'll have to make time for another quick shower before I leave for school, or someone might notice that I smell just like Tris.

God, I love her. She may not be perfect, but she is perfect for me. I can still see her in my mind's eye, sitting up in bed with the sheet tugged snugly under her arms while she watched me scramble into yesterday's clothes.

My only source of apprehension is the recollection that, biting her lip, she had expressed her disappointment that we didn't get to talk more this morning. I thought we had resolved everything last night, but the consternation I was reading from her suggests that our discussion isn't over just yet. I felt like a total dick when I realized how she perceived my attempts to keep her at arm's length. It never occurred to me that I might rip open old wounds; in fact, I had not expected that my excuses would hurt her at all.

I should find some way to make it up to her, to show her how special she is to me. Flowers are my first thought, but even if it weren't too early in the morning to find an open shop, the idea is painfully cliche. I could get her favorite latte on the way in to school, but it just doesn't seem like enough. I unlock and open the door, racking my brain for another idea as I kick it shut behind me.

Maybe coffee isn't enough on its own, but tonight I could take her out on a special date. We could―

"Where the hell have you been?" My mother's low, sharp voice rips me from my thoughts of Tris and I stop in my tracks. What is she doing here? I thought she was working from ten last night until eight o'clock this morning. It's only 6:45.

"Mom," I say. I drop my gym bag near the door, avoiding eye contact. "You're home early." I brush past her toward the smell of coffee that is wafting from the kitchen.

"Early? It was my day off. Don't change the subject, Tobias. Where have you been? I have been worried sick." I continue going about making my coffee, buying myself time, while she rants on. "No call, not even a text. You are seventeen years old, you cannot just do whatever you like! I have been trying to reach you all night."

I pause at that. Slowly, I withdraw my phone from my pocket. My eyes widen when I see the missed calls and texts… and the little icon at the top of the screen indicating that my phone is on silent.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I apologize as I begin to thumb through my missed texts. "I must have forgotten to turn the ringer back on after school. I was at a friend's, I didn't think you would be―" I stop mid-sentence when, among the fourteen missed calls and twelve texts from my mother, I find three missed calls from Marcus. Just like always, simply seeing his name on the screen is like a bucket of cold water dumped on my head.

"And what friend was that?" she exasperates, stepping closer.

"Zeke invited me over after practice," I hedge. But her face twists and she leans in closer, literally putting her nose next to me. Just as I hear her audibly sniff me, I remember that the first thing I was going to do when I got home was to wash away the girly smell of Tris's bodywash and shampoo.

"And I suppose all Zeke had for you to borrow were floral-scented toiletries?"

"I'm not lying, I did go to Zeke's," I grit out. "Didn't say I stayed there."

"It was that girl, wasn't it?" I don't answer. "Tobias," she warns.

Her voice is so filled with spite and disdain, it makes my blood boil. Tris doesn't deserve my mother's attitude. I clench my fists and try to reign in my fury before finally looking my mother in the face for the first time.

"Fine, yes, I was with―"

With a start, I notice a small cut on her lip and the fresh bruise at her left cheekbone ― a dark red, just beginning to turn to purple. I reach out and hesitantly touch the marred flesh, leaving my hand hovering in midair when she flinches back. An old terror begins in my stomach and chest before it seems to move throughout my entire body, and I draw in a shaking breath.

"Mom?" My voice comes out barely louder than a whisper. "Mom, what happened? Who did this to you?"

She looks away, standing frozen for seconds that feel like minutes before turning to the drying rack and beginning to put away the clean dishes.

"Mom." It's not a whisper anymore, but a demand. "Answer me. Who did this?" The volume of my voice rises with each word.

"Who do you think?" she spits bitterly. "He was here looking for you. And here I was, with no idea where you were. I'm sure you can imagine what he thought of that."

I clench my fists, a surge of anger taking me over. Anger at Marcus for hurting my mother once again, just when we had finally gotten away from him. But not just him.

"So, what, you're mad at me?" I retort. Despite the anger coursing through me, boiling in my veins, I keep myself perfectly composed, my voice low and quiet. "What, because that punch was meant for me? It's been nice for you, these last few years, hasn't it. He shifted his focus to me when you ran away and abandoned me there, with my worst nightmare. And it has pretty much stayed that way hasn't it?"

"You know I don't want you hurt, either," she snaps. "All he wanted was to make sure that you were going to do as he said. So, for the love of God, Tobias, whatever it is he wants at tomorrow's game, just do it."

Evelyn turns on her heel and begins to stalk out of the kitchen with me glaring after her. As she leaves the room, she throws one last comment over her shoulder. "And you had better hope he never finds out about your little plaything, or you and I won't be the only ones who need to watch our backs."