14: The Ace of Diamonds
Setzer glowered at the portrait as the night sounds of the desert of Figaro beckoned for him to release his anger and relent. He kept the portrait as a reminder. Of betrayal? Of the passion? Of the complete lie? He didn’t know, and he didn’t ask. All he did was glower and shuffle his cards. Shuffle and glare. Adjust his position, take a drink, glare, and shuffle. Courting his fate. Seducing his doom.
A knock sounded.
Setzer didn’t blink, move, or stop shuffling.
Another knock.
Setzer’s glare deepened into a complete twist and taint of his face and the love of life and adventure that had been so prevalent at one time. Why? And the question goaded him.
Tap-tap
Setzer moved his glare to his cards--tattered, worn, and ugly--and flipped the top card. Deuce of Hearts.
The door opened.
“What do you want?” Setzer asked harshly without looking up.
Thoughtful silence and then a cautious step forward. “Setzer, you need to talk to her.”
Setzer raised his eyes to meet the open and honest ones of Terra, who’d spoken, and Edgar, who stood directly behind in a showing of support. The sight was a torture and a promise of something he would never have. He lowered his gaze back to the cards, slipping the deuce back into the deck. It split one corner and loosed another card: Ace of Diamonds. He flinched and looked away.
“Stay out of this.”
“We can’t,” Edgar said. “You’re a friend, Setzer. A close one. We would be doing you an injustice if we didn’t come to you with–“
”And that was her responsibility,” Setzer countered with flashing eyes as they met Edgar’s, “not yours. Leave it alone.”
Edgar gave a firm shake of his head. “No. You’re basing a judgment on incomplete information. That is unfair.”
“Incomplete information?” Setzer repeated as he stood from the couch. He stepped forward and jabbed an accusing finger in Edgar’s face. “You provided me that information, Edgar, as did she. Choices were made and paths were followed because of it.”
“That is why you need to speak with her. To question her choices and offer her the chance to explain. The information I received was tainted by hear-say and word-of-mouth. You must allow–“
Setzer made a harsh motion with his arm. “No more lies will be allowed,” he said in a menacing tone. “She made her decision, as I have.” He stalked to his desk and lowered himself into the chair, kicking his feet up onto it as he leaned back. Setzer retrieved another deck of cards from a drawer to his right, tossing the others aside. “Get out.”
“Setzer–-“
”Get out.” And Setzer’s eyes sparked a warning.
Edgar took in a deep breath and released it with a shake of his head before turning away. He motioned for Terra to precede him, but she shook her head with glistening eyes. Edgar leaned forward to whisper a few phrases in her ear, held her gaze with a meaningful expression, and then again motioned for the door.
Terra again shook her head with a whispered “I can’t.”
Setzer’s glare at his cards deepened when he felt her eyes move to an in-depth scrutiny. He wanted to warn her that he likely wouldn’t handle her interference gently, but rage and agony kept him silent, content with the promise of torture to another.
Terra walked up to his desk and leaned her hands against it. “Don’t you want to know why?” she questioned, incredulous and tearful.
He sneered as he raised his silver-granite eyes. “‘Why?’ ‘Why?’ The reasons don’t matter after the bet is placed, Terra. It’s done and the reasons ‘why’ lose their importance.”
Tears glistened as Terra firmly shook her head. “No. They don’t. This isn’t a game, Setzer. It’s a person’s life. Yours. Hers. The reasons why are all you have left,” she insisted passionately as the tears ran free. “It’s a question you deserve to ask. A question you deserve to have answered,” she choked out.
“And an opportunity I won’t give,” he hissed, withdrawing his legs from the desk and leaning forward in a threatening attitude of withheld rage. Terra held her ground. “She lied. To you. To Relm. To me.” He slammed the desk with his fist. “No! I won’t ask.”
“But you love her!” Terra cried emphatically.
Setzer’s face went blank. ‘I love you, Maria. Gods, how I love you.’ Agony convulsed and flared, and then his soul and mind went cold and dark. “Did I?” he asked, expressionless.
Silence fell like a shroud moments before Edgar enfolded Terra’s upper arm in a gentle hold, urging her away from the desk. “Terra, come. He’s made his choice.”
Terra changed her grief-stricken expression to Edgar’s saddened face. “But it’s the wrong one,” she said brokenly.
“We cannot dictate his life. We’ve done our best. In the end, the choice is his.” Edgar moved his eyes to Setzer’s. “Even if it is the wrong one.” He looked again to Terra and guided her from the room.
Setzer stared after them as he absently shuffled his cards. Thoughts distant. Soul hard. Spirit dust.
~~~
Knock-knock. Silence. Knock. Silence. Door open. Step, step, step, step. Silence. Sound of skin on paper; ‘thlip’ of envelope onto desk. Step, step, step, step. Door close. Setzer kept his back to his desk as his right hand continued to shuffle the mutilated cards behind his back, his empty gaze staring out the window at the desert.
~~~
Knock. Door open. Step, step, step, step. Silence. Skin against paper; envelope set on desk. Step, step, step, step, step. Door close. Setzer stared down at the second letter, the handwriting and the name it spoke... ‘Dearest Setzer’ and looked away. His hands and fingers worked at the worn and broken cards as an ache within became a hole.
~~~
Door open. Step, step, step, step. Sound of skin on paper. Envelope set on desk. Silence. Step, step, step, step. “Albrook.”
“Yes, sir. Right away.”
Door close. Setzer pushed the letters away and absently pulled out another deck of cards, the others falling to the floor beside him to rest with the tattered shreds of the others and the remnants of trust and dreams.