G R E E D

P A R T F O U R

© Amber Kalkes 2015

Song:  "Talk Show Host" By Radiohead

P A R T  F O U R

I unlatched my silver cigarette case and pulled out a clover scented black cigarette to sit between my fingers. I kept my gaze impassive enough but I wasn't unaware of the curious gazes landing on me periodically. I squirmed in my seat a little but kept my shaking hands steady by gripping the silver Zippo lighter in my hand. Lighting the end of the cigarette, I felt my nerves die down and I sat straighter in my seat.

This wasn't the place to appear skittish. The Walworth was an institution in this city. Many people of power and riches frequented it, some even associated with my father. The restaurant connected to the lower level of the hotel was equally well known and as my eyes skimmed my company, I realized that letting the snakes know you were nervous around them only made them strike quicker.

As I blew out a low stream of smoke from between my lips, Roland walked around the corner with a scowl on his face. I lifted a brow at him but when our eyes met his scowl only intensified. He shook his head at my silent question and I chuckled quietly under my breath.

The fact Lord Alec Sinclair was ignoring the knocks at his door or wasn't there to hear it, was something I expected to happen. It was two o'clock in the afternoon and for a good time boy like him that was equivalent to five in the morning. I had no illusions that he wasn't passed out with Hugo somewhere or sleeping off last night's escapades in some pretty debutante's bed.

"Room number," I asked simply.

"432"

"You have the key?"

"No but I can get it."

"Then do that," I ordered before taking a sip from the warming orange juice in front of me, "I don't care what you have to bribe them with, just do it."

"It is considered illegal. I'm not sure a bribe could work."

"Money buys everything and everyone Roland," I scoffed flippantly before eyeing Roland, "Do what you have to do and find out where Alec is. This matter can't be rushed enough as far as I'm concerned."

My Aunt's tearful call the night before still lingered in my mind and with a dismissive wave, I let Roland be on his way. Devin had been threatening to kill himself that night, holding a knife to his throat and swearing if our Aunt even stepped an inch closer to him he'd do it.

Devin's mental stability wasn't good as of late and the inconsistency of his medications was only making it worse. He was only sixteen and while he'd been under all different kinds of therapy and treatment nothing seemed to get him where he needed to be. It was only making everything worse for a young man already given a frankly shit hand in life. It was something that I needed to fix as soon as possible, especially if these bouts of suicidal threatening were going to continue.

The previous night though, I was able to calm Devin down over the phone after he made me promise that I'd visit him as soon as next week. I would have to take the funds for my menial side account, which I had been able to syphon some money out of to give Devin but it never seemed to be much. Being a graphic designer in this economy wasn't the most stable way of earning income no matter how highly recommended and it showed in the numbers.

A few thousand dollars in cash here and there was the only way I could keep Father oblivious and Devin able to be hospitalized when his behavior became too out of control. That was often when he was suffering from one of his highs. Otherwise the tearful phone calls were always expected after I was informed of him falling into another low.