“Slade stays out of this,” my stepfather said, and my shoulders slumped. “He’s done enough damage. And if Kellan needs saving, he’ll get it. Just not from my degenerate son.”
I looked to my mother, pleading with my eyes, but she only shook her head. My stepfather’s word was law, one of the many reasons I’d moved out right after high school, and probably one of the many reasons Kellan dropped out. There was no arguing with him once he’d made a decision of this magnitude. It was his way, or the highway.
And we all knew what Kellan thought of that.
I leaned back in my chair, glancing out the window at the coming storm. Great. Once again, it was up to me to make the sacrifices and be the adult. Once again, I would have to put myself on the line, and knowing Slade, I’d be the one who would have to live with the consequences too.
I had to find my stepbrother, the last person on earth I wanted to see. I’d have to do it without our parents knowing, because if they found out, there would be hell to pay. And when I did manage to find Slade, I’d have to hope that he was different. Selfless. Grown up. And hopefully not so hot anymore, either.
Because that part of me that wanted answers, the part of me I’d spent seven years trying to hold at bay? Yeah, that part of me would wake right up with just one quirk of Slade’s full, soft lips. Lips I knew way too well.
Lips that, if I was being honest with myself, I still dreamed about.
Here’s hoping this doesn’t turn into a nightmare, I thought as I mentally prepared myself for what I was about to do. One thing was certain: I was going to need a plane ticket, and balls of fucking steel.
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Now here’s a taste of Trust
TRUST
CHAPTER ONE
"If I win, I get the girl."
It was said so matter-of-factly that it didn't register with me until I heard it a second time, after Harrison asked him to repeat it.
"You're in over your head, kid, that much is obvious," the other man continues, eying the small stack of chips left in front of my boyfriend meaningfully. He had just shoved a large stack of his own chips into the pot that more than eclipsed what Harrison had in front of him. "Instead of risking what you have left, which isn't much, I'm suggesting we change the stakes. You win, you get everything in the pot."
With the chips he had just added, that would more than cover the heavy losses Harrison had accumulated in the last couple of days. "But if I win, the girl comes home with me."
This time I knew I heard what he said and it sounded just as ludicrous as it did originally. Obviously he was joking, or crazy, if he thought Harrison would agree to something like that.
The man lifts the dark sunglasses he's wearing up and off his face as he shifts his gaze up to me. His eyes are a cobalt blue, sitting beneath short blond hair and above a finely chiseled, unshaven jaw. Under normal circumstances he'd be drop dead gorgeous, but the fact that he is calmly trying to negotiate a price for my ass makes him decidedly less so.
I glance down at Harrison who is also looking up at me. I expect to see a familiar grin on his lips, the one that tells me we are both sharing the same joke. But what I see is something else entirely. One of his eyebrows is raised, and his green eyes are staring at me intently, as if he is either considering this ludicrous proposal or asking for my permission.
I shake my head slightly with a frown, annoyed that I even need to give my opinion on the matter.
Harrison looks back at the poker player across from him. "Deal," he finally says.
It's just a single word, but it's the only one needed to crash my whole world.
So many things seem to happen at once in the moments that follow, my senses seem to jumble with time itself and I don't even know in what order everything occurs.
There's a collective gasp that comes from onlookers, both those sitting at the table and others who are just standing around watching. For some reason, a lot of people are drawn to this game, despite the fact that until this particular bet, the stakes haven't been abnormally high.
Cards are flipped, but I'm no longer paying attention to what they are. Despite Harrison's love of the game, and gambling in general, I've never taken any big interest in poker. The important point is, once the hand is over, the reaction from everyone around us tells me all I need to know.
Harrison has lost.
As soon as the cards are turned he's on his feet, explaining the unexplainable. "Unbelievable! There's no way I thought he had a boat there, baby. I thought for sure I had him, and then all of our troubles would have been solved. I'd have won all my money back in one hand!"
All of our troubles? He convinced me to come with him on this trip using a lie about working on our relationship, but ever since we've landed he's spent all of his time at the poker tables. He lost money yesterday, and I'm pretty sure he went back after I fell asleep and lost some more.
Harry is still talking, still trying to explain, but I'm too stunned to listen as I stare down at the table and the stranger sitting across from us. The dealer has shoved the huge pile of chips toward him in a messy assortment of hard, plastic, primary colors, but he's ignoring them as if they aren't worth thousands of dollars. Instead, he's watching me behind an expressionless mask of blue eyes and blond stubble. I wrench my gaze away and back to Harrison. He's still talking. Still explaining. I haven't heard much, but I don't need to. I've had enough. I don't need to listen anymore. I've spent too long listening in the past. I can recite the excuses by heart.
"You gambled me away," I say simply. It isn't any more complex than that.
He shakes his head, still in denial over what seems so undeniable to me now. We're done.
"Lila," he begins, but I shake my head again.
"Don't."
I can't imagine a single thing he can say right now to change the way I feel. In my mind, the last few months have been leading up to something like this. An inevitability that I've been trying to ignore, but now that it's here, I already feel strangely calm about.
Of course, in my mind I hadn't imagined it would go down like this. Thousands of miles from home, having my boyfriend of the last seven months casually gamble me away to a complete stranger for the equivalent of a few thousand dollars. Yet in a way, it makes sense. At least in terms of my relationship with Harrison.
But it leaves me without a plan forward. Our flight home isn't until Monday morning and it's only Friday night. I have no intention of going back to the hotel with Harrison now. It would give him the wrong idea. This needs to end, and I have no intention of letting him talk me out of it again. This betrayal is the final straw. He's hurt me for the last time and, despite being at peace with the decision, I'm still so angry I want to hurt him back.
I look over at the other player. He's still watching me with that handsome but expressionless face. Still ignoring the pile of money in front of him. Other people are watching as well, many of them whispering to each other. I just want to get out of there.
"What's your name?" I ask, finally addressing him.
The whispering grows louder, a few people exchanging questioning looks as if my question is any more ludicrous than the rest of the last 15 minutes have been. The corner of his mouth curls up into a little half smirk, and his blue eyes continue the smile.
"Chase," he says. "Chase Anderson."
"Okay, Chase Anderson. Get me the hell out of here."