Page 2 of In Spades

“Come on, baby,” I pleaded with my car as it sputtered and kicked its way toward Beaufort. This thing practically ran on willpower, and it was a guzzler.

So help me God. If I had to ask Steve to fix this piece of shit one more time, I was going to dig a shallow grave and hop in.

He’d help with the car if I asked him. Hell, he’d probably be stern and scold me for not coming to him sooner. Still, I hated asking my friends for favors. It didn’t help that they were all well aware I couldn’t afford to take it to an actual mechanic.

It had been five years since my scumbag parents turned my life upside down. I wasn’t even old enough to drink when I got a call from Logan’s phone. But it wasn’t Logan’s voice I heard on the call that night. The officer on the other end of the line informed me that the police had raided our parents' home—a two-story brick house in the middle-class neighborhood I grew up in.

Zoey wasn’t even a year old when it happened. That was the day I met Detectives Steve Pelham and Chase Brannan.

Steve had been sitting with the older three, talking to them and keeping them calm. My sweet baby sister was curled up, sleeping in Chase’s arms while they waited for the social worker and me to show up. Chase had just perp-walked my parents to separate squad cars, and he was standing there, rocking a baby like it was the most natural thing in the world.

There were other officers there that night who could have taken over so the two of them could go home, but they refused. Steve and Chase stayed long after I got there and helped me work through all the immediate decisions I needed to make.

Zoey would never have any memories of our parents. Call it cruel, but I had to make a choice: paint her world with a toxic brush and wreck her innocence or cut off any and all communication.

After a while, the collect calls from the federal prison in Butner and the womens’ prison in Raleigh stopped coming.

I wouldn’t give in if I never answered the phone. There weren’t many things I was great at, but if holding grudges was an Olympic sport, I’d be a gold medalist. The chip on my shoulder could win a world record.

My car heaved a sigh of relief, rattling as I crept into the staff parking lot behind the Taylor Creek Inn. I killed the ignition.

Like the little engine that could, my clunker made it once again.

“You look like you need caffeine,” Hannah Jane called out as she swung her legs out of her car and grabbed her pocketbook. In her perfectly manicured hands was a cardboard drink carrier with two large iced coffees nestled inside.

My car door creaked as I stepped out and shut it. I winced, bracing for it to fall off the hinges.

Hannah Jane plucked one of the coffees out of the carrier and handed it over. I snatched it up like the greedy caffeine gremlin that I was.

“If things don’t work out with Isaac, I’ll marry you,” I said. “You keep me caffeinated, and I’ll scrub your floors with a toothbrush.”

Hannah laughed and strutted inside with me. We couldn’t have looked more different if we tried. She was all dolled up in designer duds, ready to impress potential clients, and I had my uniform on.

At least it was clean.

I managed to get a load of laundry in at the General Store between shifts when I pulled a double over the weekend.

The housekeeping uniforms couldn’t have been less flattering. The ill-fitting white polo shirt made me look like a twelve-year-old boy. Then again, so did my wilted ponytail and complete lack of makeup.

Hannah Jane had a coy smile on her lips. “We talked about rings over the weekend.”

I raised my eyebrows. “That’s exciting. You think he’ll propose soon?”

I still couldn’t believe Hannah Jane lived with her sworn enemy-turned-boyfriend.

I could barely look Isaac in the eye when he would come over for poker night. He was just so pretty. I mean, Luca was too. God knows I embarrassed the hell out of myself the first time I met him at Maddie’s.

One by one, it seemed like the poker club was settling down. First, it was Maddie when she met Luca in California, and then again when he bought Revanche—the restaurant next door to the inn.

Then it was Steve and Erica. Fate, angels, and pixie dust had to have played a role in that. As much as Steve fought it, they were each other’s second happily ever after.

Then came Hannah Jane and Isaac. Lord have mercy, I thought she was going to kill him before they got the chance to see if the fuck in hate-fuck was worth it.

Apparently, all it took was a little champagne.

The security camera recordings of Hannah trying to sneak through the inn lived rent-free in my mind. It was better entertainment than Maddie’s Netflix login that suspiciously showed up and never left when she babysat one night

If I had to guess, Bridget and Kyle Kingsley would be next. They had been dating longer than anyone else, and had been living together for quite a while.

---