Page 113 of Gambler's Conceit

I fling the door open, ignoring the taxi driver’s sound of alarm and Raymond’s curse as he makes a grab for me, and launch myself out onto the street.

A car almost hits me immediately, but I’d take that mercy over being marched back home any day.

My thoughts are pathetic and spiraling, screaming at me that I can’t trust anyone or anything. Caleb had been in league with them. He pretty much owns Vortex and Havoc, and?—

And fucking nothing.

There are enough tourists on the strip even at this point in the day that I can hide myself in plain sight if I’m careful, though being careful would be easier if I wasn’t on the edge of panic and desperation. People are giving me strange looks, even giving me space, and that’s going to get me caught. But if I run, I’ll only make myself more obvious.

I hear my name being shouted in the distance, and for a moment, it feels like I’m running in slow motion because hearing it now after so long of hiding from it is enough to threaten to break me.

But it doesn’t. It doesn’t, and it won’t, because I’m going to get through this in one piece.

Somehow.

I don’t know how I’m not crying.

I guess it doesn’t actually surprise me that Caleb was in on this from the start. Had he ever cared? Or was he just biding his time until someone could come down and fetch me? They’d probably just told him to use me as thanks for finding me. No wonder he’d been so willing to whore me out to Vortex and Havoc, too.

He’d known what I was all along.

All of them had.

I wonder if any of it had been real.

I finally slow my pace as the crowd thickens, and Raymond’s voice gets lost in the distance. My thoughts are drowned out by the chatter of everyone I’m walking beside. There’s nowhere to go. There’s nothing I can do except keep moving.

Someone with a needy cock has to be headed out of Calamity sooner or later—and as soon as I can find them, I’ll be gone too.

It’ll be like the Roi de Pique never existed.

It’ll be like my heart never got shattered.

TWENTY-SIX

CALEB

It’s just after one,and Seven isn’t at the restaurant. My phone hasn’t buzzed with new messages, and the last text he’d sent was “Okay” when I’d texted to ask if he wanted to meet for lunch.

I send him another text. “Where are you?” If he’s still at the blackjack tables, I’m going to have to ban him from the games after all. I don’t care if he gambles away my money, but I do care if he’s blowing me off in favor of betting.

“Oh, Mr. Spade!” somebody says.

I turn away from the host table to see Madeline jogging up to me. She looks worried, and my hackles go up.

“What’s wrong?” I demand.

She grimaces and looks around. “Seven isn’t with you, then?”

“No.” I scowl at her. “Why?”

She fiddles with the ring on her finger and after a few seconds, she says, “I’m worried. He dashed away from my table really fast. Even left some of his winnings behind, which… well, he’d won! I expected him to either keep playing or at least cash out to celebrate.”

Dread pools in my stomach and I pull out my phone. “When was this?”

“Fifteen minutes ago? I saw him heading toward the hotel, but nobody in reception saw him go in…” Madeline laughs awkwardly. “I’m probably overreacting. Maybe I spooked him again somehow. I just wanted to make sure he was okay, but I couldn’t leave the table until I found somebody to cover for me…”

Shit. I dial one of the guards currently on duty by my suites. “Is Seven in the suites?”

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