This detour stumps Tessa’s pathetic ex. His chest heaves, as if he’s convinced there’s a bomb attached to a card. There isn’t, but that’s an idea to keep in the think tank.
Finally, after much deliberation, he chooses one, looks at it, and slides it back into the deck.
Cash shuffles three times, trekking back toward me. “What’d ya get?”
“Queen of spades,” Hunter reveals in a cautious timbre.
“The fucking card of death?” Cash roars. “Shut up. You don’t stand a chance.” He huffs, shaking his head in disapproval and throwing his arm up. “Well, check your pocket. Might as well finish the goddamn trick.”
Hunter pales, but reaches into his pocket, pulling out a card and staring at it.
That’s my cue.
“There’s something I hate far more than stealing,” I snarl, white-hot ire rushing through my veins. “You know what that is?” I don’t wait for a response. “Cheating.”
“People think we don’t have any morals, but that’s not true. We despise cheaters,” Cash reiterates, tucking his deck away, leaning on the island, and sipping his coffee.
“Especially you,” I continue, gritting out my explanation through a plastered smile directed at Hunter, “because you sold Tessa’s family on this mirage of you being an upstanding man while you were fucking anyone who would spread their legs for you. On yourbusinesstrips.” My teeth grind. “Which is why you can’t stay away from Tessa. She’s your dream. From a family with the values you want people to believe you have, but still strong, sexy, wild, like you crave. And too conflicted over her own lifestyle to investigate or call you out on your shit because she’s been made to believe thatherchoices are the sins.”
Pearl Jam’s “Alive” seizes Cash’s speaker, and it is exactly what I need to center myself. Just the thought that this dipshit ever made Tessa feel less than, let alone two-timing her, had me nearly losing my composure. But the song, the recollection of the silly questions we’ve exchanged, the vision of her doll-like face, and the melodic sound of her laughter in the recesses of my mind remind me that outbursts aren’t my style. I’m known for my buoyant and chilling fury. Harmonic wrath.
I jerk my chin to Cash in reference to the music. “This is getting added to my funeral compilation. I think I’ll include ‘Help!’ too.”
“Solid choices,” Cash commends as my phone vibrates in my pocket, and he does a double take at his screen before holding it up to show me a text on one of our family threads.
Ty: Contractions are eight minutes apart. We’re settled at the hospital. Keep you posted.
Ty is our brother-in-law, so it seems we’re about to be uncles again very soon. To two babies. My chest tightens with overwhelming fullness as I blow out a ragged breath and catch the glossiness in Cash’s blue eyes. Our little princess is about to be a mom. Time to wrap this shit up.
“Lucky for you, Hunter, we have somewhere we need to be. But before we go”—I scratch my jaw—“you never showed us the card. Did Cash get it right?”
Wordlessly, he flips it around, showcasing Noire magic right here in his kitchen.
“There’s a slight glare. Could you lower it?” I gesture to the card currently in front of his ribs.
His brows furrow, his face blanching further as he slowly lowers it.
“A little more.” I eye his waist, and once he complies, I lob the final piece of cutlery directly at him, lancing the card and the thick leather of his belt, framed by his silver buckle, just above his limp dick.
It may or may not have pierced his skin, but it couldn’t be more than a flesh wound. No real harm today. Only a warning.
“Holy shit.” Cashwhoopswith a clap. “That was a fucking shot, man.”
“Right?” I beam, not sacrificing the celebration of that epic one-in-a-million party trick. “It’s all in the wrist.”
While I’m reenacting the expert follow-through, Hunter’s stomach retches violently, but only a little vomit spills from his lips. Shock is a bitch.
“I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to do that again.” Cash smacks the counter. “I, for one, will never fucking forget thisday.” He makes his way to the door, patting our host on the bicep as he passes him.
I follow, halting beside Hunter, my mouth hovering near his ear. “That queen of spades speared above your crotch is for my girl.Mygoddamn queen. If you ever even utter her name again, to anyone, I will sever your balls and wedge them up your ass before I cut off your worthless cock, shove it down your throat, and fuck her on your dying body. No one disrespects her. Understood?”
He whimpers and nods.
“What do you know about the money?”
“I really don’t know anything,” he pants. “I swear.”
“That’s what I figured you’d say”—I tap the knife handle sticking out of his belt, noting his stifled wince—“but my gut tells me you know more than you realize, and you fucked around on the wrong girl. You’re a Noire asset now. You work for me. We’ll be cashing in on that insider view you have of the Bahamas casino and tackling your list offriends, buddies, coworkers, and family.”
