Page 141 of In Spades

His phone rang again, but this time it was Will’s name on the screen. He must’ve been shaking the trees to see who was with me. Steve offered me his phone. “You wanna talk to him?”

I shook my head. “No.”

For the first time since I’d met Steve, he looked at me with disappointment in his eyes. “Would you rather be right or be happy?” he asked.

“Just because I have a kind face doesn’t mean I’m about to let it be steamrolled.” I steeled my spine and lifted my chin. “I would rather not be with someone who lies to me.” Cutting my eyes at him, I yanked the keys out of the ignition. “Including so-called friends.”

32

WILLIAM

“You’ve reached Kristin Boyd! Leave a message at the beep.”

I ended the call and tossed my phone into the empty passenger seat. A week had passed since I’d last seen Kristin. The image was burned into my mind: her standing in the ballroom, staring at me as her world crumbled down.

She was a fucking vision in that red dress.

I shouldn’t have gotten on that stage. I shouldn’t have taken the microphone.

But I did.

I walked away from Kristin and walked on that stage.

Elena roped me into her game and, like a fool, I played the role of dutiful businessman. That was a role I had grown to despise when Elena and I had been involved. But it was also the role that brought Kristin into my life.

Kristin’s stubbornness was something that I admired. It was a survival technique that helped her fight to see another day. Struggling to keep food on the table and a roof overhead required an iron will. At the moment, though, I loathed that particular quality. I wanted to drive to her house, stomp inside, and demand she hear me out.

I had tried to text Logan and Kylie to ask if Kristin was okay. Much like every other effort I had made to reach out, the texts went unanswered.

When I left my house and hopped on Highway 70, I didn’t even bother stopping in Havelock to see if she was home. I took a left at Kyle Kingsley’s car dealership and headed down 101 to Jokers.

I counted it a small victory that I hadn’t been kicked out of the poker club group text just yet. I laid low, hoping they’d just forget I was in the thread.

It was girls’ night. If there was one thing Kristin never missed, it was that. She would be looking to blow off a little extra steam after recent events.

Jokers was fairly empty. I didn’t mind. I loved the off-season. Kristin’s car wasn’t in the lot yet, so I parked on the other side of the poorly lit ramshackle building. I didn’t want her to see my truck and hightail it back home.

I locked the doors, shivering as a gust of cold air whipped around me. Warming up with a little whiskey sounded like a damn good idea.

I prepared myself for the hell storm that was going to rain down the moment I set foot in the bar. Steve and Chase would beat me to a pulp, Luca would fillet my body, and Isaac would pay off all the witnesses.

God only knew what the girls would do to me.

I put my hand on the wobbly door knob and exhaled, watching my breath fog in the chilly air. Ready as I’d ever be, I twisted the knob and pulled.

Nine heads spun from their spots at the bar and looked at me. If anyone else walked in, they would’ve thought it was a funeral. Hell, I’d been to a few wakes that were livelier than the poker club tonight.

“Oh,” Mel said with a sigh.

Hannah Jane gave me a disappointed, but sympathetic smile. “We were hoping you were Kris.”

Where was the war party? The tar and feathers? The mob with torches and pitchforks? I thought I would be walking into my own execution.

I cleared my throat. “Who, uh, who talked to her last?”

Steve lifted a finger off his beer. “Me.”

I looked back at Hannah. “Has she been at work?”

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