Risk (Gentry Boys #2)(64)

“Yeah.” She pulled her shirt over her knees in a childish gesture as she looked down. “You could call it the family business if you wanted to be cynical. My dad’s in the middle of serving a decade upstate. New York, that is. He crossed the line and got nailed for fixing some horse shit.”

“What kind of horse shit?”

“Literally horse shit. Horse races.”

“Oh,” I said a little awkwardly. I was trying to digest her confession. Stephanie’s eyes widened when I broke into raucous laughter. “And here I thought you were a lady of the night.”

She seemed confused so I clarified. “A call girl, Steph. I figured you were a prostitute.”

“Really?” She looked down at herself and gave a sarcastic laugh. “Doubt I’d command a high price at the moment.”

“You’d clean up nice. I know the look of quality when I see it.”

Stephanie sighed and leaned back. She looked at the wall. “Maybe for my next career.”

“Steph? Who is trying to hurt you?”

Her expression was instantly dark. She hugged her arms around her body and grimaced, closing her eyes as if something terrible had just flashed before her.

Gently I put a hand on her shoulder. “Honey, did someone already hurt you?”

She shook her head. “No.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “No, they didn’t hurt me. Not in they you’re thinking of. They…” Stephanie’s voice trailed off and she swiped at her eyes. “They humiliated me,” she finished in a whisper.

I didn’t know what that meant. I waited for her to tell me but she wouldn’t. Or couldn’t.

“Anyway, they better not try any more shit.” She picked up her bat and rapped it on her palm. “Pops taught me how to do damage.” She paused, staring down at the bat. “Unless they show up with something sharper than this.”

“Or louder,” I said pointedly.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Or louder.” Stephanie gave me a sad look. “Sorry, Truly. I should have been straight with you sooner.”

“Hmmm,” I grumbled. “That’s kind of a running slogan this week.”

I put a hand on my forehead and laughed again because that was all I could do. Life became several shades of surreal when your boyfriend was getting ready for an underground gladiator brawl and your roommate ran an illegal gambling ring.

Stephanie waited until I was done. “Something else wrong?”

“Nothing. Boy trouble.”

She smiled slowly. “I like the ogre. He seems like he’s no bullshit.”

I stood, put my hands on my hips and pulled my roommate to her feet. “You’re right about that, Miss Bransky. Creedence Gentry is definitely no bullshit.”





CHAPTER TWENTY SIX


CREED



Having it all set up already was a strange sort of relief. I could stop wondering. I could stop trying to numb the horror of uncertainty with booze. On the other hand, there was a also a desperate feeling that if I didn’t do everything right f*cking now then I wouldn’t get to do it at all. Truly was on my mind constantly. Had I finally been capable of losing my head over a girl because of the added pressure or in spite of it? It didn’t make a difference; I was all in where she was concerned.

“I think I found one,” Saylor said. She turned her laptop in my direction. I read the listing as she summarized, ticking off on her fingers. “Good working condition, maybe needs some oiling and a belt. You think that’s it?”

“Yeah,” I told her. “I think that’s it.”

I made a call and spoke to a woman whose wavering voice made me wonder if she was the original owner of the antique appliance. I offered the asking price and arranged to pick the thing up the next day.

Chase came home in the late afternoon. He seemed a little stunned to see Saylor and I being all chummy, sitting on the couch and playing video games. But after a minute he shrugged, threw down his backpack and sat between us. He tried to grab the game controller out of my hand and laughed when I swatted him.

“Deck’s here,” I said.

Chase’s blue eyes looked carefully around the living room. “Really? Is he hiding from me?”

“He had to run out for a little while. He’ll be back.”

“Oh.” He yawned. “What’s for dinner?”

“I don’t know,” Saylor shrugged. “What are you making?”

Chase didn’t like that answer. “Where’s Truly?” he grumbled. “She’d cook for me.”

I saw Saylor pinch him at the mention of Truly’s name.

“That hurt,” he complained.

Saylor rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. You know what you need, Chasyn? You need to stop the random screwing and find some sweet little domestic goddess who bakes you cookies and rubs your back.”

Chase mulled that over. “Will she rub other things too?”

“It’ll be a prerequisite.”

“Right on. Where might I find such a paragon of womanhood?”

“Try the year 1956.”

Chase stared at her. “You’ve gained weight, doll. What is our Cordero feeding you?”

Saylor jumped up and stared down at her body. “I have not gained weight you obnoxious little prick.”