The Traitors

Chapter 7 - Logan

I bit the skin above my thumbnail as I stood outside the office door, allowing my anxiousness to take over me. Kayla had been standing with me when I got here ten minutes ago. She uttered not a word, but she was definitely done with my bullshit. She kept checking the nonexistent watch on her wrist, even though she wouldn't have been able to see it if it were there.

"Just go in," she groaned softly.

"I can't," I bit back.

"Yes, you can. It's just Gabe," she shrugged.

"I haven't talked to him in weeks and I don't want to fight today."

"Then don't piss him off," she offered before knocking on the door for me.

"Come on in," Breton's voice carried through the door.

"He's talking to you," Kayla left me with a cheeky smile, leaving me to face him alone.

"Fuck you!" I growled silently toward her back. She glanced back over her shoulder puckering her lips and kissing the air.

I prepared myself with a deep breath and a soft sigh then opened the door to the office. Breton sat behind the desk too busy to acknowledge I entered the room. His fingers typed away at an alarming speed then halted the minute his eyes left his monitor. He snarled at me and then continued to work on whatever he was doing prior.

I audibly huffed and stepped closer to him. I had to make an effort, but it was going to take a bit for him to meet me halfway. The sound of his typing fingers was the only noise which somehow made this more uncomfortable. The tension between us was unbearable so I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off immediately.

"I don't care," was all he said.

"You don't even know why I'm here," I pointed out, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I know I lost twenty dollars because you went back on your word," he hissed. "Is it just me or have you been doing that a lot lately?" His question was rhetorical and meant as a snide comment.

"I'm sorry, are you mad because you lost a bet or because I obeyed Anna's instructions?" I weighed both options metaphorically on my hands.

"Both," he said through bared teeth. "You couldn't leave well enough alone." He leaned back in his chair folding his arms across his chest.

"You really thought I'd leave a girl to die?"

"That's what we decided," Breton barked.

"That's what you decided," my anger on the situation was arising. "It's not always about what you want," but the sentence fell flat of my intentions.

"No, it's always about what Anna wants."

Anna wanted nothing to do with us.

Anna was a flirt and led both of us on. She knew how to play both of us and she did it well enough to leave behind a damaged friendship never to be repaired. Without her around, Breton no longer had to pretend to be nice to me for her sake. I had nothing against the guy, but he never liked me because I was a Fierce. He always assumed I did everything with malicious intent following in the footsteps of my father. Even enduring Mal Corp with him, I still couldn't gain his trust or acceptance.

Truth was I didn't know how to be a Fierce. Manipulation was supposed to be second nature and I had a hard time being as calculated as my opponent. So, I wasn't sure how I was going to convince him to talk with Fi, especially when I didn't want to tell him what I had done. He would be mad I brought the wrong girl back to life.

"This isn't about Anna," I stepped closer to him.

"Then what is this about?" He responded already drained from this conversation.