Page 140 of Deserter

My nostrils flared and I tilted my chin up in defiance. “Are you accusing me of being on drugs, Hawk? Do I look like someone who’s under the influence of anything?”

“Fuck.” He dropped down onto the bed. “Celia, I’m sorry. I’m just—fuck! None of this makes a damn bit of sense. Who else would’ve known about the money?”

“I don’t know.”

He pounded a fist against his thigh before standing up. “I’ll be out front.”

The girls were almost asleep by the time I made it to their room. I’d pulled their favorite chapter book from the nightstand but couldn’t concentrate. After losing my place repeatedly, I blamed the headache and kissed them goodnight.

Guilt gnawed at my gut as I replayed the day’s events and I grabbed my cardigan off the back of the chair in the den before joining Hawk on the porch.

He sat on the swing, cigarette between his lips, staring off into nothing.

“Mind if I join you?”

The street was deserted, but I didn’t miss the way the curtains shifted against the window in the house across from ours. The neighborhood barbecues I’d imagined while pregnant with Kate had never taken place.

Knowing what most of them thought of me, they never would.

All the dreams I’d had for our lives were just that.

Dreams.

He stayed silent, but scooted over, making room for me.

I swallowed hard as I sat down. “Did you try to call?”

“Yep.” He exhaled a stream of smoke. “Number’s been disconnected.”

I waved him off when he offered the cigarette to me. “I’m trying to quit.”

“Fair enough.”

My palms were damp, and I wiped them on my skirt. “What do we do now?”

He shrugged and rocked the swing back with the toe of his boot. “Guess we just wait for your old man to show up and pray that he decides to make another midnight run sooner, rather than later.”

“I know what you must think of me. Relying on Grey to solve my problems. I tried to let him go. I swear I did.”

Hawk cleared his throat before taking another drag. “The only thing I’ve been thinking is that you’ve been put in a fuckin’ impossible situation and you’re just trying to make the best of it.”

He blew a smoke ring before turning to face me. “Let’s get one thing straight. A woman relying on her man wouldn’t have taken up gambling to keep the lights on.”

“For all the good it did. Money’s gone now.”

“There’s an underground game. High stakes—”

“That’s a thing? High stakes blackjack? I thought that was just poker.”

He laughed. “Nah, if you’ve got the cash, you can lose it in a variety of ways.” When I frowned, he amended, “Not that you would lose it. You’re like a fuckin’ genius when it comes to blackjack.”

I gnawed at the corner of my lip, itching to pluck the cigarette from his hand and take a long drag. “Good or not, I have nothing to bet.”

“I’ve got a little cash I could loan you. It’s enough to get you into some of the smaller games—there’s a ring here in town that pays at the three to two rates. Get you enough to buy into the big game.”

Tears blurred my vision. What he was offering was better than the alternative—starving to death while waiting for Jamie, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a bad plan.

It wasn’t the fear of losing Hawk’s money—card counting was a skill I’d honed over the last couple of years. I knew how to keep my losses to a minimum and walk away with more than I came with.

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