Page 72 of Blind Luck

I’d begun telling Rusty a little more about my past, and he’d surprised me by not laughing. Most people laughed. Most people thought I was a fool for not seeing the light sooner. But when you’ve never known anything else, when your access to information is limited and someone who’s a pro at scheming and manipulating does a number on your head, accepting the truth isn’t so easy. Life had been simple in those days, simple but cruel. You did whatever the Prophet or your husband told you to do, in that order. If you were a woman, you spent your days growing food, cooking, cleaning, and raising the children. Men went out to work—People’s Promise ran a bunch of businesses—and most of their income was tithed to the Prophet. Houses, spouses, and jobs were allocated, not chosen. Until I left, I’d never seen a TV, and airplanes terrified me.

In some ways, Rusty’s upbringing hadn’t been so different from my own. He’d worked on the family farm, growingfood, but without the safety net of communal funds to fall back on. The money he’d earned from his first three years in the hockey league had gone to paying off his family’s debts and sending his little sister to college. Only after signing his new contract had he actually kept any money for himself.

He slipped an arm around my shoulders. “Okay, I’ll let you beat me at bowling.”

His touch didn’t make me nauseated anymore. No, now I craved it. He’d kissed me every night before we went into the house to eat dinner with Sin and Trooper. And I felt… Well, I didn’t hate it.

I wanted him to do it again.

And I also wanted Florence to fall off a cliff, but obviously I couldn’t say that out loud.

Eighties music pumped out of the front door, and Rusty grimaced. “This isn’tmyidea of fun.”

“Don’t forget your glasses.”

He put them on and took my hand, then we stepped into the Funhouse. Prices aside, I’d knock off a star for the volume of the music. I could hardly hear myself think. Head throbbing, I checked the place out, and there she was. Kelsey looked frankly horrified, and I wondered if Jace had told her where they were going. Or had he just billed the outing as a surprise?

Rusty leaned in, and his lips brushed over my ear as he whisper-shouted, “I’ll get the drinks.”

Oh, man.This has been one weird week.

While he elbowed his way over to the neon-clad bar, I found a poseur table where we could spy on the not-so-happy couple through the drooping leaves of a potted plant. Guess it wasn’t a fan of the ambience either.

Jace kept invading her space. Kelsey kept backing away. It was painful to watch. She gulped down her bright blue cocktail with the desperation of a woman who wanted toget out of there as fast as possible, but Jace had other ideas. He’d clearly booked a table.

“I’ll take care of it,” Rusty said when we realised they were staying for dinner. Despite my initial misgivings, he’d turned into a great partner.

Jace had dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt, while Kelsey wore tailored pants, a blouse that buttoned right up to her neck, and boring flat shoes. Rather than studying the menu, she fished a tablet out of her bag and faced him, hands on the table in front of her. Ah. She thought this was a business meeting. Jace did not.

Kelsey skipped the appetiser and checked her watch seventeen times during dinner—I was counting—and shook her head when the server brought dessert menus. Which meant I couldn’t eat dessert either. Boo.

But still Jace persisted.

“What’s that old saying?” I murmured. “The customer is always right?”

My old boss at Sin City—the strip club, not the actual city—used to tell me that all the time, which was probably why I’d been fired for emptying a pitcher of water over a patron. No regrets. The guy had totally deserved it.

“In matters of taste,” Rusty said. “The full quote is ‘the customer is always right in matters of taste.’”

Huh. Never heard that before. “Well, Jace Fuller definitely isn’t Kelsey’s taste.”

He ordered more drinks. She excused herself to go to the bathroom and didn’t come back for ten minutes. I pictured her crying in a stall and considered hurrying in there myself to offer a hug and a few words of support.

But I couldn’t.

And where was Jace’s wife in all this? Her name was Selene. Alexa had found a photo of her—she was a super pretty blonde, but real dainty—and she didn’t seem to getout much. Her social media hadn’t been updated in years, but she appeared in pictures occasionally with Jace.

I felt sorry for her too.

Rusty reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “I’m not a violent man, I swear, but I really want to punch that fucker.”

No, he wasn’t violent, not to people who didn’t deserve it. He’d shown kindness in every action since I’d met him. After I left the Promised Land, I swore I’d never get involved with another man, but when I found one like Rusty, how could I stay away?

Sure, he’d ruin me when he left, but he’d also teach me more about what I wanted from life.

“They’re…heading for the dance floor?” he said as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Under duress.”

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