Scheming Against Devotion (Book 2 of The Transition of Pinn)

Giddean:

*Knock knock knock*

“Ivy! Ivy let me explain!” I beg her through the heavy wooden door. My head pounds as I hit the door.

Yet, I hear nothing but my heavy breathing from running down the hall. Fuck!

James and Sean stand behind me as I continue to batter on the door.

*Knock knock knock*

The door creaks a little under the force of my swing.

How the fuck did this happen? She was supposed to be at the Female Center!

Anger rises swiftly in my chest as I eye Sean standing so close to me. He was supposed to take care of her. He was supposed to watch her. What the fuck was he doing?

I turn to Sean and I pounce, grabbing his collar and pushing him against the wall.

“What the fuck happened?” I seethe.

Sean looks back at me calmly. He’s not frightened of my temper, but he is tense. I may be his employer, but he is larger than me. A life of growing up in the poorer districts will do that.

But he won’t hit me-even if I hit him. His status is too closely tied to my family- my father really- and being in our good graces. So I could get a good punch in without any consequences….

I hear a door squeak open and Ivy steps out. She rushes up to me and I drop my hold on Sean from the shock of her exit and just watch her approach. She raises her hands to my chest and pushes me, or tries to push me. I don’t move an inch, but I stare down at her face screwed up in anger.

“You-you! Just leave Sean alone!” She shrieks at me, defending the man who left her unattended on this strange planet.

“He is supposed to protect you!” I fume back.

“You mean, he is supposed to keep things hidden from me.”

“What good did it do for you to see the ceremony, mmm? It just upset you with no benefit to you”

“Well now I know!”

“Know what exactly, Ivy? That is planet is fucked up? Surely you figured that out already”

“You are murdering women! Murdering them! How can you-? How can you do that?” Her voice is rising louder and louder as she continues.

I see a small tear trickle down her cheek and I reach up to try to brush it away but she pulls away.

“If you understood-“

“Well then tell me” she interrupts.

“They are volunteers, Ivy, they don’t just sacrifice anyone!”

“They’re volunteers?!”

“Yes, they-“

“What kind of stupid excuse is that?!” she asks incredulously.

“Look, there is a lot about Pinn you don’t understand-“

“Stop saying that!” She screams.

I grab her arms and hold her in front of me. She weakly tries to step out of my grip, but she knows there is no point, not really.

“Sometimes, Ivy, sometimes women don’t adjust. They try, but the women just… give up. Then the women can volunteer to be sacrificed.” I take a deep breath “They drug them, Ivy. They don’t feel anything during the ceremony”

Her look grows cold as she narrows her eyes at me. “I suppose that makes it okay? Acceptable even?”

It is her calmness that gets to me. She is no longer screaming, her face looks-passive, cold, and unemotional. Fuck, how do I fix this? How do I make her understand?

I open my mouth to further explain, “I….”

“You know, Giddean, I don’t care”

She whirls out of my arms and runs into her room, slamming the door behind me.

“Fuck!” I curse loudly and kick the wall.

I stare at the door, fuming, not at Ivy, but at my own inability to explain it to her. I may hate the fucking High Priest, but the women choose to become sacrifices. They know what will happen. It’s their choice.

And who am I to question their choice? They get so few on this planet, but this one is theirs and theirs alone. I will not be the one to question their agency.

Fuck my life. I turn and storm down the hallway towards my office, thinking to be alone in my misery. James and Sean just staring after me. I’m frustrated, furious, and unable to contain it.

I slam the door of my office so hard I can hear the rattle of items bouncing on the bookshelves. The room feels darker, angrier than when I left it mere minutes before.

Alone I can let it all out. The frustration, the anger. A red haze cloudy my eyes and I can’t think straight.

Ivy’s coldness hits me deeply, like a pit in my stomach. It like an annoying itch that I cannot control, I need to do something. I need to.

I grab the carafe still sitting on the cart and take a large gulp of the amber liquid. Then I take another.

Even with the liquid streaming down my chin it’s not enough. It dampens the front of my shirt as it burns in my throat. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

I fling the carafe.

It crashes against the city map hanging on the wall behind my desk. Pieces of clear glass fly and smack nearby surfaces while the brown liquid drips down the wall causing the map to buckle and curl under the moisture.

It’s not enough. Fuck, it’s not enough.