Page 141 of Deserter

This time felt different though.

If the thieves were the same men who’d lost their money to me at my last game, then I was leaving us vulnerable to another attack.

I bounced my knees up and down, jostling the swing. “I can’t. It’s too big a risk.”

His mouth moved into a flat line. “What happens when Grey decides it’s easier to stay dead or it gets too dangerous for him to come back?”

Jamie might’ve made the decision that changed the course of our lives, but I’d denied him access to his daughters.

I’d done it to protect them; convinced he’d never dig his way out of the hole he was in. Now, he lived like a nomad, roaming the country with no place to call home.

Hawk was bringing up the same concern that had contributed to more than one sleepless night. There was going to be a day when my husband woke up and finally decided to give me what I’d been asking for the past two years.

Freedom.

We’d wasted so much time hurting each other. The last time had been different, at least I thought so until I woke up alone again.

I swore I’d never be one of those women and yet, here I was, diving for scraps like a stray dog.

Just imagining never seeing him again left me sick to my stomach. I’d created the rules though and I had to live by them.

The porch swing shifted forward as I straightened and held out my hand to Hawk. “Let’s do it.”

He took it with a wide grin. “Game’s tomorrow night. You can pay me back when you win it all.”

I told myself I was doing it for the money, but I knew the truth. I wanted insurance in case my husband decided to never come back.

* * *

Hawk had failed to mention that this was no ordinary blackjack game. This was a tournament—the play-offs leading up to the Super Bowl, but for cards.

I’d somehow made it to the final table after three grueling qualifying rounds. I took my place at the semicircle table and surveyed my competition.

These men were nothing like the regulars at the New Mexico casinos. For starters, they were sober, and there was a roughness about them that made me think they wouldn’t take kindly to losing to a woman.

I kept my face impassive as the dealer asked for bets, but inside, I was sweating bullets.

“For you?” she asked a dark-haired man in a custom suit down on the end

“Ten thousand.” He placed the chip inside the betting circle and I discreetly cut my eyes to the side to look at the ring on his hand again.

My arms began to tremble, and I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down.

It didn’t mean anything.

A diamond thirteen ring was probably common in establishments like this one. I felt his gaze on me and reluctantly lifted my eyes up to meet his. One of his jet-black eyebrows quirked up in a challenge and a knot of dread settled in my belly.

It was as if the word ‘amateur’ was flashing in neon letters above my head.

Maybe it should’ve been.

This was certainly not a game I would’ve ever willingly put myself in, but once I made it past the first round, it was too late to back out.

The next person bid five thousand and then the dealer looked to me.

“One thousand,” I croaked.

It was the minimum bet, but I didn’t care.

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