Jax and I aren’t demon-free. None of the Noires are. We’ve all been burned, but much like Ty, we cover our scars.
“Different,” Jax argues, ruminating as he chomps on the remainder of his bite and washes it down with his soda. “The ones afraid to flaunt them are always worse. I’d much rather you end up with someone who outwardly rages. Then, we know what we’re getting.”
A huff tumbles from my lips, but before I can respond, he tacks on, “And no way will Axel or Ryker go for it—not after the dress shop.”
I’ve never shared my crush on Ty with anyone other than Jax. It always felt like something I should save for the right time or guard,like a precious secret. Ivy and Celeste poke around, suspecting it, and I’ve been known to make an off-the-cuff comment here and there. But Noires never admit to anything that could possibly be incriminating. In our world, that’s pretty much everything.
Including a crush on a guy who seems to have various nefarious positions.
Everyone thinks I’m oblivious to the sordid happenings surrounding me, but I’ve been around Wells’s crew a lot the past couple of years. I knew they erased people because of what they did for Mercy—Ryker’s best friend, who needed to flee an abusive situation. And it’s no secret that both Ivy and Wells are some sort of leaders. Mafia or something of the like. I’ve seen plenty of connected people around here to recognize the signs.
Wells and his guys have always been tight-lipped. But I find the less I pry, the more comfortable they feel to talk around me in theircode. That applies even more to Ivy and Celeste.
They’ve revealed enough for me to know their life might be even more twisted than mine. And, yes, the attack that happened at the dress shop a month and a half ago with some group they tagged the Skulls was proof they’re involved in some crazy shit. Celeste and Ivy were rescued swiftly, but they had been abducted in the first place. So, it makes sense that Axel and Ryker are stressed and protective. It was scary.
None of that is a deterrent for me though. And it’s hypocritical for it to be a deterrent for my brothers. I’m also aware of what they do.
We have two counting rooms. If that doesn’t mean anything, let me simply say that casinos only ever have one room to count money. Counting room two could be synonymous withthe gallows. But that’s a lot harder to bark in a crowded room. Risky. Everything at La Lune Noire is concealed inside something seemingly ordinary and innocent.
Like a land of Easter eggs.
Where some of the eggs are buckets of wealth and some are death warrants.
I could say the same for Ty—as far as the concealment. There’s more to him. Depth and angst. Jax isn’t wrong that Ty is hiding something. It feels like I unearthed a treasure today because he let me catch a glimpse. I’d be honored to be the one who excavates it all. I’ve never wanted anything more.
Jax knows that Ty has been my shot-in-the-dark fantasy forever. So, him blowing off whatever my lust-driven ordeal was with my ultimate crush is disheartening.
“Whatever,” I hiss in response to him extending Axel and Ryker’s disapproval. “That’s why it was a Janis Joplin moment. Sweet freedom.”
With my brothers, it always comes back to protecting me, cushioning me from a fatal crash. I’m not permitted to partake in the more clandestine side of our business—a bubble-wrapped owner of the same resort and casino as them, destined to be the heart, but never the head. But no matter how they strap me in, being a Noire means I’m a passenger for this corrupt ride. And in this case, it’s the air bag that will break me.
Maybe Ty is my ticket to loftier adventures.
Since I am over this depressing sharing circle, I hop up and sprint to do a roundoff into a back flip in the large square space.
Jax abandons his lunch to join me. “Don’t pout, baby sis. I’ve always got you, girl.” He tucks and springs, landing with a stutter. “Just don’t want you to get your hopes up for something that—”
“Right,” I brush him off and hurtle toward the unpainted wall. This is why we don’t keep furniture up here.
Two steps up the stone and a third to launch a backward flip. He shadows me with a bit more lift. I’m certainly not short at five-eight, but I’m puny compared to my brothers, who are all well over six foot, like Ty and those guys.
Jax and I were both trained in gymnastics from the time we were toddlers. It’s one of the few things I’ve held on to about mymother. She was always there at every practice. So proud. Bright and cheerful. Gleaming blue eyes.
We had a training room in our house and bars and beams in the backyard—all lost in the fire. Axel always made sure we had places to grow in that skill here though.
After my parents died, he made us quit the gymnastics program, but he hired private coaches—all of whom were also involved in the acrobatic shows for the resort. They encouraged us to put our own personal spin on our skills, which generally included mastering their circus techniques. Keeping us in outside activities was probably too much with all of us grieving. Since both of our parents and our house were gone, Axel moved us into the penthouse at La Lune Noire. I’ve been pretty much locked up here since.
Anything I want to experience he brings to me and usually engineers some extraordinary effect on it for some added fun.
We’ve taken vacations, but he’s not fond of letting me mingle with the locals or be anywhere he can’t keep tabs on me. After the devastation we suffered, the horrendous loss, I can’t fault him.
Jax swipes the joint out of the ashtray and lights it again with a fancy snap of his fingers—a magic trick with a match. We’ve mastered a plethora of useless skills. Another perk of being raised around the entertainment industry.
He sucks in a drag as he scales the perimeter wall, walking along it like a balance beam, one foot in front of the other. “Wanna paint with me? I’ll award you sole ownership of the blowtorch.”
Laughing because Jax is impossible to stay mad at, I retrieve a can of Diet Coke from the fridge in our small bar area and crack it open while I answer, “I was thinking of checking to see if Ivy and Celeste are here.”
His brow line wrinkles, arms out to balance. “You didn’t ask Ty?”
