Page 66 of A Fool's Game

Strength.

I raise my eyebrows as I consider. The irony of the answer the deck provides almost brings up another giggle, but I choose to look deeper instead. The figure on the card, dressed in a white robe, ceremonial crown, and apron of flowering plants, literally holds open the jaws of a lion, who seems to be tamed by her touch.

How easy it would be to interpret this card as being the top. The one in charge. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from myyears of battling life to stay afloat, it’s that there is even more strength in being the one on the bottom. The one who leads from within brings about the greatest change.

The dictator on the podium often succeeds in uniting the ranks against him.

“There’s a chick on that card, does that mean it’s you?”

I can tell Taylor is uncomfortable with my silence, but I don’t give in and speak, simply drawing my gaze up to meet his. He holds me there for a long moment, so heated that I almost start, but he looks away too soon, too suddenly, his eyes darting behind me. I don’t need to look over my shoulder to see who he found there. I can feel the man’s presence like a blanket waiting to be pulled around my shoulders.

“The figures are symbolic, they could represent men, women, and everything in between and beyond,” I say, the old familiar line grounding me in the moment.

Taylor flips the next card without even glancing down at the deck.

The Eight of Wands.

It’s Taylor’s turn to laugh. “I know what that card means. Someone with a bunch of hard wood is going to be sitting in the punishment chair, watching.”

I shake my head, considering whether or not I even want to continue this little game of Taylor’s. Not to protect his feelings, but to spare Ainsley’s.

The tension between the two of them in the hallway solidified something that’s been drifting around me in vapor since the moment I laid eyes on him in that bar. This thing isn’t just between me and Taylor and me and Ainsley. Those two have some kind of connection and, while they might not be willing to admit it yet, there’s no denying the cards.

Eight of Wands could be interpreted as motion through the immovable. It’s huge energy, all heading in one direction, asunstoppable as the river flowing across the bottom of the card. It’s a journey already in motion. There’s no turning back now.

“Do I need to look it up?” Taylor asks, teasing me.

I shake my head quickly to dispel some of the bubbly new emotions floating around me like fireflies and offer the simplest explanation. “Assured felicity is how it’s sometimes interpreted. All’s well that ends well.”

Taylor laughs again. “Okay, so whoever’s stuck in the corner still gets off.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” I reply.

His gaze once again doesn't rest on me, drifting behind me once more. “Ready to take us on that tour, pretty boy?”

I perk up at the idea of seeing the rest of his space. Of getting to finally experience a room that contains more personal touches and belongings.

Taylor and I start to get up, but Ainsley stops us. “Can I draw a card?”

“Oh, sure.” I scoop up the deck and spin, placing it on the edge of the coffee table nearest where he sits.

He gathers them up and starts to slide the brand new, slippery cards through his fingers. Over, up, and around. Cutting, stacking, sliding.

“What do you want your card to represent?” I ask as I watch him finally set the deck back on the table.

“Tomorrow morning,” he replies simply.

I’m still pondering what he could mean by that when he simply flips the top card of the deck over and lays it on the table. And cringes.

The Ten of Swords.

Silence falls as I resist the urge to jump in too quickly and reassure him that there are no bad cards in the deck. I want to see if there’s anything in the card for him to find on his own, and the only way he can do that is if I give him the space.

“What is it?” Taylor loses patience first, of course, leaning over me to peek at the table. “Oh…the murder card.”

I slap at his shoulder, pushing him back onto the couch. “It’s not the murder card.”

“Buddy didn’t do that to himself,” Taylor mutters.

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