Deviant

Chapter 6

Rowen

Town Hall meetings.

No matter how many of these I attend, the end result is always the same—a sick feeling in my stomach.

And this year’s meeting is no different.

On the first Saturday of every September, Blackwater Falls has their annual meeting to go over the particulars of how that year’s Harvest Festival should be conducted. Led and organized by our mayor, Warren Davenport, we have to endure hours of his pompous and insensitive rant about how it is our civic duty to this town to uphold its traditions and ensure that this year’s Harvest Festival is even better than its predecessor.

Our mayor’s demand for perfection is so disconnected from reality and basic human decency that it leaves a bad taste in my mouth to see my father standing behind him on the podium, having to show his support while Davenport goes off on his tangent.

But does anyone stand up and tell him he could stick his festival where the sun doesn’t shine?

No.

Does anyone even offer any kind of resistance to the mayor’s ludicrous demands?

Also no.

Instead, the hall remains eerily silent while Davenport’s voice is the only one dignified to be heard.

It’s almost as if the town enjoys throwing a party before they send twelve poor souls to their deaths. Or eleven, if you believe one of them will become the victor in The Scourge.

But one does come back.

The priest is proof of that.

I bite my inner cheek, recalling the last time I visited Hollow’s Church in search of Father O’Sullivan and came up empty-handed. I’ve searched for him every day this week, but he’s evaded me at every turn.

Ugh.

I try not to flinch when Aidan places his hand on my bare knee just to stop my leg from restlessly bouncing up and down.

“Easy there, babe. Why so jittery?” he whispers in my ear.

“I’m not jittery,” I groan, sweeping his hand away from my knee, earning me a pissed-off groan in return.

“Fine. Whatever. Have it your way. But I’m starting to get really sick and tired of you PMSing all the time,” he accuses before aiming his attention back on our mayor.

I want to snap back at him that just because I’m in a mood doesn’t mean I’m on my fucking period. However, I keep my mouth shut when I feel my father’s eyes skim over me, his cold stare pinning me to the spot.

He doesn’t have to say it, but I know he would have preferred me to stay at home. If he had it his way, he would have me under house arrest, preventing me from showing my face here and volunteering my services for the festival.

Usually, I’d be all too happy not to make an appearance, but this harvest season is different.

It’s the first one that I’m actually invested in.

And hopefully, the last one I’ll ever attend.

As much as my father would like nothing more than to keep me from anything and everything harvest-related, this year, he’ll just have to accept that I want to be a willing participant.

In more ways than one.

“I’d also like to take this time to tell our new… volunteers,” Mayor Davenport starts to say, successfully pulling my attention away from my tumultuous thoughts onto him, “how deeply appreciative our little town is for your sacrifice. We all know it is a heavy burden for those so young, but I promise you that ten years fly by so fast that you won’t even feel it.”

Liar.

You’ll definitely feel it.

It’s ten years of wondering if you’ll ever see another birthday.

Ten years of not making plans for the future or even establishing healthy relationships for fear that you will be taken abruptly from the people you love.

It’s ten years of mental torture and psychological warfare.

Mayor Davenport painting it as a slight imposition is laughable at best.

“We must remember that your sacrifice is for the greater good of our small town’s survival and that, without it, Blackwater Falls would cease to exist. Your loyalty and civic duty will not be forgotten. Not by your loved ones or by this town.”

A loud huff echoes from the back of the auditorium, drawing the attention of everyone present as they turn their heads to see who dared to interrupt the mayor during his illustrious speech.

I, however, don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

I could pick that sound of contempt from a lineup.

Still, I follow everyone else’s lead and glance back to find Elias leaning against the wall, one boot pressed against it and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Asshole,” Aidan grumbles beside me.

As I survey the crowd, I realize that Aidan isn’t the only one staring at Elias with complete and utter revulsion. The ugly side-eyed glances and scowls directed at him from most of the room make me feel bad for him.

Not that Elias would appreciate such empathy on my part.

He’d probably ridicule me for it.

“I know that there are some here that don’t share in our town’s values,” Mayor Davenport continues with his speech, his gaze fixed on the man at the back of the room wearing nothing but black. “A few rotten apples who don’t have the same loyal mentality and sacrificial instinct for the greater good that we hold so dear. And to those people, I say… why are you even here? If you can’t stand with us, we can only assume you stand against us. If that is the case, then there’s the door and be on your way. Blackwater Falls has no use for your kind,” he concludes, pointing at the double doors to make his point.

I spare another quick glance over at Elias, his cool expression not one bit bothered by being called out in front of the whole town.

Realizing that Elias isn’t one bit intimidated by him, Mayor Davenport throws him another scrutinizing glower before softening his expression to talk directly to his constituents.

“I know these seasons are hard on all of us. I understand that more than most, since this year, I, too, will have skin in the game. As you all know, my beautiful daughter, Mackenzie, turned eighteen last summer and is now eligible to be chosen for the Harvest Dozen. I pray she is kept safe in the bosom of our family, but if she is called upon, she will do her duty like so many before her.”

Sitting on the makeshift stage, Mackenzie smiles at the crowd, though it never truly meets her eyes.

Her father might be ready for her to be called for the harvest, but it’s apparent that she is not.

I can’t blame her for not being enthusiastic about such a thing.

When I turned eighteen, I had nightmares about being chosen for months on end.

Nora was the one who saw me through it.

She was my rock through all of it.

Though she was a few months younger than me and would only be eligible for the Harvest Dozen the following year, she ensured that I didn’t feel alone when faced with my upcoming selection. She held my hand through the whole ceremony, breathing easy when my name didn’t appear on the big screen of the selected dozen.

Little did she know that I’d end up stealing her first chance at ever attending another Harvest Festival again.

I drown that thought into the depths of my scarred soul and force a tender smile over to a frightened Mackenzie instead.

But the coy smile she throws back my way isn’t directed at me but is purposely poised on the boy sitting by my side. Aidan winks at her, her green eyes twinkling just for him, The Scourge long forgotten with that one endearment.

A more diligent girlfriend might become suspicious of how the two have somehow come up with their own secret language when she didn’t even realize they were friends.

But I’m not that kind of girlfriend.

In fact, if Aidan is somehow involved with the mayor’s daughter by some miracle, it would solve a problem I’ve been procrastinating on resolving for a long time—ending my lackluster relationship with the youngest Larsen brother.

And what?

Start one with the eldest?

I bite the corner of my lip and discreetly look at Elias again, only to get caught red-handed when I see his eyes are set on me instead of the mayor.

Feeling like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar, I spin forward so fast that even Aidan suffers its backlash.

I don’t dare move as Aidan looks over his shoulder at his brother and then back to me.

“What’s that asshole grinning about?”

I turn around just briefly to see Elias sprawling an arrogant grin on his lips, my cheeks heating up when he winks at both of us.

“Goddamn it. Maybe The Scourge will take pity on me and call that motherfucker once and for all.”

I frown at the scorn-filled remark.

“That’s not funny, Aidan. He is your brother,” I reprimand.

“Doesn’t make him any less of a pain in my ass. I’d rather have him be chosen than me. Not that it’ll happen. With my luck, I’ll be the one whose neck will be on the butcher’s block this year.”

I grimace at the idea.

I may not love Aidan as a girlfriend should love her boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t care for him. I don’t want him to be chosen any more than I want anyone else to go through the ordeal. No one deserves to be taken away from their homes and loved ones to face a nightmarish experience like The Scourge.

Not that anyone has returned to share what exactly happens in the games. The only person with those answers has sadly lost most of his mental capacities.

For the rest of the town hall meeting, everyone is given their respective duties to ensure the Harvest Festival goes off without a hitch. Since I’m working at Rosie’s, I will be tending to the diner’s booth and serving everything from pumpkin pie and apple crisp to butternut squash cake.

Aidan, known for his easygoing nature, is selected for hayride duty. For all his previous concerns about being selected, he doesn’t seem to mind that he’ll spend most of the festival tending to small children and their parents when it’s supposed to be the last night he’ll spend in this town.

Not that I care if my last duty to this town is shuffling pie, either.

It really doesn’t matter what I do.

As long as the end result is the same.

One of the six girls called to lower their masks must be me.

That’s the only result I care about.

“Fuck, that was tedious,” Aidan exclaims once my father steps in for the mayor and outlines all the security measures that need to be upheld during the festival, bringing the meeting to an end. “How about we go back to my place and unwind a little bit?”

Knowing that ‘unwind’ is code for getting fucked into another boring coma, I eagerly decline.

“Sorry. I promised my dad I’d go home with him after,” I lie.

Aidan lets out another aggravated gruff, running his fingers through his wavy, blond hair.

“Yeah, okay. Whatever.”

He leans in and pecks me on the cheek before strolling down the auditorium, his eyes scanning the facility as he goes about it.

If I had to guess… he’s probably looking for Mackenzie to make her a similar proposition.

I really should be angrier or even jealous that my boyfriend can quickly come up with a plan B when I turn him down.

But I’m not.

I feel nothing.

No. Not nothing.

I feel relief.

The more ways he finds to entertain himself, the better it is for me.

This way, he’ll be too distracted to realize what I’ve been up to until it’s too late.

Or maybe that’s my naivete talking.

Perhaps, like me, Aidan has checked out of this relationship and couldn’t care less about what I get up to.

Unwilling to let Aidan realize that my father has no intention of going home with me, I loiter a little longer in the auditorium, making myself useful by folding and packing chairs.

“Always ready to lend a helping hand, aren’t you, girlie?” Joe says with a cheerful greeting before joining me in clearing the room.

“Someone needs to do it. Why not me?”

“Idle hands being the devil’s playground and all, huh?” he teases.

“I guess you can say that.” I grin, following him into a storage room to dispose of the chairs.

Once everything is neatly packed, my tension eases when I see that almost everyone has left already. We walk in tandem out of the auditorium and find a few townsfolk still outside the town square talking amongst themselves.

I’m surprised to see that one of those loiterers is none other than my father, chatting with Elias next to his bike. However, the conversation doesn’t seem very amicable, considering that Elias looks as if he’d love nothing more than to swallow my father whole.

“Poor fucker,” Joe says as he pulls a flask from his coat pocket and takes a swig. “People in this town will never let him live it down that The Scourge wants nothing to do with him. Envious bastards.”

“Do you think that’s what they are talking about?” I ask, wishing I could overhear what they are saying.

“Who the fuck knows, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Larsen should know better than to show his face to these town meetings. He knows how people feel about him. It’s like he wants to gauge a reaction when he should leave shit well enough alone.”

“He has the same right to attend as anyone else,” I defend, my gaze never leaving the unlikely pair.

“True. But if everyone hated me the same way this town hates him, I would have passed on the meeting. Not that much fun anyway,” Joe jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“It’s not Elias’s fault he’s never been chosen. Shouldn’t we be happy for him instead of blaming him for not being selected?”

Joe spits out his liquor at how hard he laughs.

“I dare you to find one soul in all of Blackwater Falls happy that our best contender at winning the games doesn’t even get the chance to go. It’s its own form of torture for everyone. For the town to watch innocent lives go off to their deaths while the strongest of us get to stay at home is all sorts of fucked up. It breeds resentment on both sides.”

I frown at that.

Joe isn’t wrong.

I doubt there is one person who doesn’t look at Elias and curses the ground he walks on.

Why should he get to stay while their children are ordered to go?

“People should mind their own business. Elias is just as innocent as anyone else.”

Joe laughs again.

“Ah, girlie, you’re a barrel of laughs tonight. That man right there is far from innocent.”

My eyebrows screw together at the peculiar statement.

“What do you mean?” I ask outright.

Joe sits on the steps of the town hall and pats the empty space beside him. I don’t think twice and sit down, eager to learn more.

“Maybe Elias knows something we don’t. Ever think that?”

“You mean… another loophole?” I whisper, trying to keep the conversation private.

Joe nods, eyes shining brightly.

“You and I both know that they exist. Maybe your boyfriend’s brother found one of his own and is exploiting it for all its worth. Not sharing what it is, is not only clever, but essential. Believe me, I should know,” he mumbles the last part to himself.

“I don’t think that’s the case here,” I reply, my gaze fixed on the heated conversation that Elias and my father are having.

“No?” Joe retorts skeptically.

“No,” I deadpan.

“Okay. I’ll bite. How can you be so sure?”

“Because…” I start, my chest starting to tighten. “If Elias was in possession of such a secret, one that would prevent him from being chosen, then he would have shared it with Nora.”

“Ahh,” Joe sighs in acknowledgment. “And if he shared it with his sister, then you think she would have shared the secret with you, too.”

“I know she would have.”

Joe takes another swig of his drink and hands me the flask.

I stare at it and then at my father to check if he’s watching before taking a sip of the foul liquor and handing the flask back to Joe.

“I get what you’re saying, girlie. I do. But the phrase, ‘blood is thicker than water,’ wasn’t invented in a vacuum. It resonates because it’s true. Do you honestly believe Nora would have shared such a thing with you and betrayed her brother in the process? Family is family, no matter how fucked up they are.”

“ I was Nora’s family.”

He nods, hearing the steadfast certainty in my words.

“Okay, say that you’re right and that Nora would have shared such a secret with you. Not to play devil’s advocate here, but that does leave us with another scenario. One where Elias doesn’t tell anyone a goddamn thing. He somehow discovers a loophole all by himself and keeps it under lock and key, even from his own siblings, for fear of it ever getting out.”

“And risk Nora and Aidan being selected?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time family fucked family over to ensure their own survival in this town.” Joe shrugs nonchalantly, taking another sip of his whiskey.

I stare at a now disgruntled Elias and consider Joe’s suspicions.

No.

Elias might have kept the truth from Aidan since no love was lost between the two, but never Nora.

He loved her too much.

He’d never risk her life.

Never.

“Is that honestly what everyone thinks? That Elias would be callous enough to keep such a secret all to himself? Even from the people who loved him most?” I ask, vocalizing the hatred that Elias must have felt since he turned eighteen six years ago, that same hatred multiplying with each passing year his name wasn’t chosen.

Joe nods.

“Then everyone is wrong. Elias isn’t the monster people believe him to be.”

The only monster here is me.

“Whose to know what evil lies in men’s hearts?” Joe slurs, the alcohol already making its desired effect.

I get up from the stairs and brush my knees.

“Or women’s, for that matter.”

Joe flashes me a deep-rooted frown.

“True. I guess we never really know anyone, do we, girlie?”

“Sometimes, we don’t even know ourselves,” I reply, disheartened. “Thanks for the drink, Joe. And the chat. It’s been enlightening.”

“Anytime, Rowen. Anytime.”