Page 54 of Gambler's Fallacy

“We could make it so that we’d know instantly if he got anywhere near one of the exits.” He grimaces and shakes his head. “I don’t like it, and he won’t like it, but I’d rather him hate us than be taken.”

Again.

If Seven hates us for this, so be it.

TWELVE

SEVEN

I can’t stop thinkingabout that face in the crowd.

No matter how hard I try to distract myself, it keeps popping into my head unbidden until I’m pretty sure I know where I’ve seen him — and I hug my arms against my chest as memories threaten to surface.

I remember hands, lips, and a hard cock.

I remember trying not to cry.

Yeah. I remember him, even though I never knew his name.

I feel violated in ways that I can’t even understand, that my past keeps surfacing no matter how many times Caleb tells me I’m safe here.

I close my eyes, but I can still see his face in my mind’s eye.

I need to be getting ready for a morning of work under Linda, but the thought of it is too much to bear right now. I can’t handle seeing her, not when she reminds me so much ofher.

I know it isn’t fair. Everyone else seems to adore her — including Della — but I can’t shake my unease even though I am trying so, so very hard to.

Everyonetrustedher, too.

Trembling, I pull on my shirt, but I know I can’t go backstage. I can’t just sit here, either, because all I’ll do is think andrememberthings that are going to drive me crazy if I let them.

There’s only one thing I can think of that will hold my interest, and while a brief flash of guilt runs through me at the thought, I know I’m going to do it anyway.

I’ll earn back every penny of what I’ve lost, then Caleb can’t get mad at me for it.

Galvanized by the thought, I finish getting dressed and head downstairs, feeling for a moment like someone is watching me. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and I think hard about going back upstairs where I’m safe. But the idea of being locked away again gnaws at me, and I can’t bring myself to do it.

Instead, I go to the blackjack tables, avoiding the one Madeline is dealing at in favor of Nat’s, whose bald head seems to shine under the lights. They offer me their usual smile, asking, “You in, Seven?”

I nod as I sag into the stool at the table, prepared to lose myself in the familiar routine of trying to count the damn cards like Havoc had done his best to teach me. It might be a hopeless endeavor, but I can’t stop trying.

The only way I’m going to earn that money back is by learning the system, but so far, it’s eluded me.

Nat deals me in, and I still can’t shake that feeling of being watched.

They frown at me. “Seven? You okay?”

I nod, flashing a smile I hope looks more genuine than it feels. “Oh, yeah. Still tired, that’s all.”

Even though Nat doesn’t look like they believe me, they let me place my bet and play the hand.

Then another, then another, until I forget everything but the familiar sound of the cards being shuffled… and the utter despair I feel at losing over and over again, just like I lose at everything else.

Even the few victories I get don’t balance out the fact that I’ve lost more than I earned.

I suck at life.

“Hit me,” I say.

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