Game (Gentry Boys #3)

by Cora Brent

  The meeting started a few minutes later. It was the usual mix. There were the lifers who were always around and always would be. Then you had the experts who got stuck somewhere around Step Three and then haughtily proceeded to tell everyone else how to live. Also in attendance were a few of the quiet types who were still trying to come to terms with something out of their control. Then there were the ones like me and Al, who were just trying to get through the day.

  Sometimes I got up and talked and sometimes I didn’t. Today I didn’t.

  As we filed out, Al mentioned something about not getting his license back for another few weeks.

  “You need a ride?” I asked. I didn’t mind. There was still an hour left before I needed to head to work.

  Al lived in a studio apartment about a mile south of the university. As I pulled up to his place he mentioned that the next few days were going to be busy for him.

  “World Series is starting soon. Plus we’re into football season. Giants are playing the Cowboys on Sunday. Big deal in my line of work.”

  Al had never mentioned what he did for a living. I knew he wasn’t a student and his eastern accent was more distinct than Stephanie’s but other than that he was a mystery.

  “What line of work is that?” I asked casually.

  He appraised me carefully. He obviously had something to hide and he was thinking about whether he wanted to tell me about it.

  “I might deal in some gambling action on the side.”

  “Oh yeah?” I leaned forward in my seat. I remembered what Stephanie had said about how only suckers thought they could come out ahead in sports betting, but I also remembered the rush I got when the lights of the slot machine went off and the thing vomited money. “I might be interested in participating.”

  Al didn’t answer for a moment. Then he nodded. “What’s your number, Chase?”

  I told him. He punched the digits into his phone. “Sent you a text. So now you have my number.” He grinned. “If you decide to use it.” He hopped out of the truck and waved. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you around.”

  Work was boring, as usual. I waved cars to the proper lots and then did the rounds for a few hours, looking for anyone who might be up to some trouble.

  The apartment was empty when I got home. I wished I’d thought to ask Creed where he was performing tonight because I would have headed up there. But chances were he was getting ready to go on by this time and I didn’t want to bug him. The ringing stillness of the apartment gnawed at me so I turned on some music. It wasn’t like I didn’t have options. There were a number of girls I could call who would be up for a good time.

  But the only one I really wanted to see was Stephanie. We didn’t have class again until Wednesday and I didn’t really want to let things sit for that long. I started to dial the number I’d memorized. But then I recalled the way she’d screamed at me to fuck off and remembered how she’d taken an earlier flight from Vegas, probably so she wouldn’t have to deal with me. I felt bad and I didn’t know why the hell I felt bad. I hadn’t exactly forced her to spread her legs.

  I put the phone down. Tough as it was for me, I needed to let this lie for a few days, give her a chance to calm down. I wasn’t giving up.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Stephanie

  Truly didn’t know. I spent hours dreading the moment she would walk through the door because I figured she would immediately tell me everything about Chase’s version of last night’s events. But incredibly she came home in the late afternoon, snuggled her cat and changed her clothes before heading off to work, uttering not a word of reproach or pity. She noticed the way I was trailing after her and looked at me strangely before she leaned over the bathroom vanity to fix her makeup.

  “What’s up, Steph?”

  “Nothing,” I grumbled, leaning against the wall.

  Truly gave me a vague smile and rolled on some lip gloss. There was nothing artificial about her. If she knew about me and Chase then she wouldn’t hide it.

  I cleared my throat, thinking I ought to come clean. “Hey, ah, Truly?” She looked at me and I lost my nerve. “Thanks for getting me to come along,” I told her instead. “It was a nice wedding, nice to get out of town for a few days.”

  “Of course,” she grinned. “I’m glad you had fun, although you should have stuck around this morning to see how Chase was mooning over your absence.”

  “Was he?” I asked, feeling a bit lightheaded.

  “He was. Creed always says that Chasyn is far too used to getting his own way. It might actually be good for him, to finally run into a girl who says no.”

  Oh, but I didn’t say no, Truly. I did it all and then pleaded for more.

  “Ha,” I laughed, picking a piece of paint off the wall. “Yeah, I guess.”

  Truly sensed something was off. She frowned a little and then stepped out of the bathroom, her dark eyes watching me sympathetically. “I know things still aren’t right with you, Steph. I know you’re hurting and I won’t ask you again to tell me about it. Please don’t think I’m trying to push you. I’m not.” She sighed. “As for Chase, it’s probably better you steered clear. He’s a sweet guy with his own set of problems but I can’t vouch for where his head is at. And although I love him to pieces, if he did anything to hurt you I’m afraid that would have to change.”

  There was never a better friend than Truly Lee. At least, not in my lifetime. I’d once had a lot of friends but they’d shown their real colors when my family fell into disgrace. No one in White Hills wanted to be known for associating with the daughter of a jailbird, the sister of a murdered criminal. Instinctively I knew that if Truly had been around she would have stuck by me. There was no doubt.

  “Don’t worry,” I told her. “I have a tough enough time just sorting through my own messes. I’m not eager to incorporate anyone else’s at the moment.”

  “Someday,” Truly answered with gentle ease and she meant it kindly. She knew what she was talking about. She’d had her own painful history to deal with before she’d found Creed.

  “Someday,” I agreed. I didn’t enlighten her on the fact that I’d already failed to steer clear of Chase.

  After Truly left for work I paced around the apartment for a while. Running a sports book had kept me so absurdly busy for so long that between work and school I scarcely had a moment to think straight. Now I had far too many moments.

  For the first few weeks my clients had buzzed endlessly, wanting to know why I dropped off the face of the earth. I referred to them to Alonzo because I didn’t know what else to tell them. I’d run into Alonzo last week at Salad ‘n Stuff and he’d gaped at me like I was a ghost because we hadn’t actually spoken since that night. He hadn’t been among the men who hooted and filmed. He’d stood there quietly with his head down and then handed me my clothes when Xavier decided I’d had enough.

  Alonzo might have been thinking about his dead friend as he watched me. He might have felt sorry for the fact that it was Robbie’s sister being debased before his eyes. He’d warned me though, warned me not to ever step out of line with Xavier. I didn’t hate Alonzo. I did hate Xavier.

  Xavier Monroe was the top of the food chain out here. You couldn’t run a decent-sized sports book without his approval and he had dozens of sub-bookies leeching off the local population of naïve college students. The first time I met him I could tell he didn’t have much use for women outside the carnal realm but he smiled when he heard I was the daughter of Nick Bransky.

  “It’s in your blood then” he laughed and allowed me on his team. “Just don’t remind anyone you’ve got a pussy and you might make it.”

  Things went smoothly for a while. I was religious about dotting all the i’s and didn’t stand for bullshit. When some kid called me at eight am, hung over and panicked about owing his grocery allowance for the month, he would often try to tell a fairy tale.

  “No, no. I didn’t pick Tulane. I’m fucking sure I didn’t pick Tulane. I picked Wake Fores
t. Dammit, you bitch, you’re trying to screw me.”

  I never budged. I knew better than to make mistakes like that. My father was fanatical about recording the action and I knew enough to repeat the bet, write it down, repeat it again, and make the caller repeat it once more before I was satisfied. As for the liar sweating it out on the other side of the phone, I would let him know that unless he settled when I came calling then he would never get another bookie to talk to him as long as he was in the southwest. Moreover, he could expect to look over his shoulder for a while in case Xavier decided a few lessons needed to be taught.

  I thought all the soft sympathy had been drummed out of me by life and necessity. Apparently it wasn’t because when a desperate young father begged me for help I yielded. Maybe it was my better nature peeking through. Or maybe I was just due for a reckoning. My own father used to say sooner or later every man was, and he should know.

  Jose Renato had been a frequent client of mine. Now with a newborn son in the hospital requiring expensive medical care, he was frantic for a chance at a jackpot. I knew right away what he was asking and I knew the odds. I told him honestly that he’d have a better chance of hitting the Powerball.

  “Don’t do it,” I told him flatly. “You want any spread plus juice on anything in the NFL and I’ll take it. But I’m not going action reverse, buddy. It’ll fucking bury you.”

  Jose sighed. “You refusing to take my money?”

  “In this case, absolutely.”

  Jose didn’t listen. Someone put him in contact with Dustin O’Shea, a shady guy who also worked for Xavier and who would happily bury his own mother.

  I didn’t find out about it until Jose called me.

  “You were right,” he said and I could hear it in his voice, the weary defeat.

  “How bad?” I asked and let out a hiss when he told me the terms. Poor bastard, already full of despair and heartbreak, was on the hook for ten grand. That wasn’t something Xavier would allow to slide.

  “All right,” I said, rubbing my eyes and trying to form a plan. “You just stay low. Be with your kid at the hospital and I’ll see what I can do about getting you out from under this.”

  Jose coughed. “You don’t owe me nothin’, Stephanie.”

  “Maybe I don’t. Or maybe I owe a lot of people a lot of things.”

  After I hung up with Jose I called Dustin and began bawling him out for poaching my client list, arguing that Xavier wouldn’t be pleased.

  “You’re right,” he answered and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Xavier isn’t pleased, bitch. You’re turning down big money bets because you’ve let your fucking pussy get between your ears.”

  My stomach dropped. I threw the phone across the room and cursed a blue streak. I must have been making quite a racket because Truly shouted from the other side of the door with alarm, asking if I was okay. At that point I hadn’t even told her about all the gambling bullshit. I just shouted back that I was fine.

  Alonzo was the one who came for me. It was him and a pair of other guys I vaguely recognized as some of Xavier’s henchmen. Luckily Truly had already gone to work. I didn’t want her getting mixed up in my crap and those two animals standing next to Alonzo might have tried to grab her.

  As for my brother’s friend, he looked rather grieved and haggard. “Come on, Steph,” he said sadly. “Xavier wants to see you.”

  Xavier ran his business from an old, shuttered bar he’d rented in a dilapidated downtown Phoenix neighborhood. I sat in the backseat next to Alonzo while Xavier’s goons silently occupied the front. A few times I glanced questioningly at Alonzo but he wouldn’t look me in the eye. I took that as a bad sign.

  One of the guys pulled me out of the car and started dragging me to the door. I yanked my arm away and shoved him.

  Alonzo was instantly at my side. “Take it easy,” he whispered. “Don’t make it worse.”

  Xavier was waiting behind a table in the rear of the dimly lit bar. He suffered from some kind of medical condition and he couldn’t stay in the sun very long. He kept his pasty skin covered from head to toe, probably an inconvenience in one of the hottest climates on earth.

  As my eyes adjusted to the interior I realized there were other men there too. Some of them I recognized. Some of them I had never seen before.

  I stood before Xavier with my chin held high. How bad could it possibly be? It wasn’t the biggest offense in the world to turn down a bet if the bet was crappy. The only problem was I knew it wasn’t crappy from the bookie side. It was a sure fucking thing. And I wasn’t working for myself. I was working for Xavier. I wasn’t allowed the luxury of a conscience.

  There was a second problem. When I met Xavier I’d figured him out as the kind of man who held women in limited esteem unless they were lying on their backs. As I stood there in that bar surrounded by hostility I realized I’d been wrong. Xavier wasn’t just dismissive of women; he hated them. He hated me.

  “I knew he wouldn’t be able to cover it,” I said by way of explanation, trying and failing to keep the panicked waver out of my voice.

  Xavier nodded. “Well someone will be covering it.”

  I crossed my arms. “Take it out of my cut. Hell, I’ll collect enough in preseason NFL play to satisfy this shit.”

  Xavier laughed. The other men in the room laughed with him. “Not good enough,” he said coldly.

  “Well what the fuck do you want?” I gestured around the room. “An after dinner gang bang?” Even as I said the words I was terrified he would say yes. I wouldn’t go quietly. They would have to kill me.

  “Noooo,” he drawled, evidently enjoying my fear. He coolly looked me up and down and pointed to the dark area behind him, which was suddenly illuminated with a glaring spotlight.

  “Take the stage, Stephanie Bransky. You’re gonna be a star.”

  And then he told me what I needed to do.

  I’d only cried about it once, when it was still so raw and awful that I felt like I couldn’t stand to be in my own skin. That night, after Alonzo had dropped me off, I burst through the apartment door in a sobbing fit and scared the crap out of Truly. The tears stopped quickly but my paranoia grew. I was petrified that Xavier wasn’t done with me. I started sleeping with a baseball bat and nearly clubbed Truly with it when I mistook her for an intruder. That was when she sat me down and made me tell her a thing or two about myself.

  As the sun began to lower itself on the horizon I dragged a kitchen chair out to the back patio and sat in the shadows. I remembered I had an upcoming exam but I felt too unfocused to tackle financial modeling at the moment.

  My head wasn’t only full of fears and bad memories. No matter how much I didn’t want it to be true, Chase had gotten to me. I understood it was futile to think about him the way I was thinking about him. It would mean wishing he was different than he was, and wishing he considered me as something more than a challenging place to stick his dick. But briefly, when Chase had first circled his arms around me, before we were both overcome with lust, I had melted under his strength, his resolve. Now all I could remember was how good, and how safe, it had felt to be in his arms.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Chase

  I was the only one around when Saylor and Cord arrived home from Las Vegas.

  “Put me down,” she was laughing as they noisily burst through the front door.

  “Hell no,” he answered and was still carrying her in his arms when they got to the living room.

  “I take it the honeymoon was satisfactory,” I called from the kitchen before shoving another spoonful of cereal in my mouth.

  Saylor flipped her hair over her shoulder and winked at me. “Your brother has insisted on carrying me over every threshold in the country.” She smiled up at Cord. “Seriously honey, you can put me down now.”

  Cord set her on her feet but kept an arm around her waist.

  “I missed you guys,” I said and meant it. It was the longest I’d ever gone without seeing Cordero. Plus
the apartment was so unnaturally empty without them. I’d stayed in my room a lot and tried not to listen to Truly and Creed screwing in his room down the hall every night.

  “Aw,” clucked Saylor and walked over to offer me a hug. “Missed you too, Chasyn.”

  Cord sat down in the chair across from me. “I hope you didn’t kill Creedence without me here to run interference.”

  “No, but I might have smacked him around a little. Pinned the big guy to the ground and made him scream like a woman a dozen times before I showed pity.”

  “I’ll bet,” Cord snorted.

  Saylor stretched. “Think I’ll go jump in the shower and wash this musty travel feeling away.”

  Cord threw her a meaningful look. “Don’t finish until I get in there.”

  Saylor brushed her hand briefly over his cheek. “Baby, I never finish without you.”

  My brother shifted in his chair as he watched his wife walk down the hall.

  I chuckled. “Pregnancy hormones are raging, huh?”

  Cord shifted in his chair again. “Son, you have no idea.”

  I grunted and returned to my cereal.

  Cord kicked me under the table. “So how about you?”

  I played dumb. “How about me?”

  “You get together with Stephanie again?”

  “No.”

  Cord raised his eyebrows at my sharp tone. “Should I even ask?”

  “No.” I threw my spoon in the bowl. “I haven’t seen her since Vegas. We have class together though, just about four hours from now.”

  “Not like you’re counting the minutes.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Cord laughed. “You tell Creed yet?”

  “Hell no. He still thinks it’s a crappy idea.”

  “Are you sure it isn’t a crappy idea?”

  I brought my bowl to the sink, feeling increasingly irritable. Whenever I thought about Stephanie, and I thought about her a lot, there were two vivid moments at the forefront. One was when I got on top of her in a Las Vegas hotel room and had her moaning and begging for me to get inside. The other moment was about ten minutes after the first one, when she tucked the blankets around herself and screamed at me to fuck off.