She chuckles like she has her own little joke only she understands. Turning away to put it back, I watch as Warden’s the one to offer to take it off her hands. He’s already had a couple, like he’s trying to wash down his own problems.
I told him he’d be leading this ride when it happened. Is it nerves he’s trying to wash down, or is it something else?
While I could ask, everyone here has their own issues. If he’s like me, he doesn’t want to go spouting off his own weaknesses.
Dragging my attention over to the prospects, there are too many of them missing. I glance at Trouble and watch as he chats up Smoke and Ace, the set of brothers keeping a close eye on him as they play cards.
Trouble was one of those assholes before Haven talked Ripper into dragging him here. He’s the one who should have all the information I need. He might be wearing a prospect cut, but I’m not so warm to the idea of having him lingering so casually.
Even with a face covered in bandages, proof of an assault from those bastards, it’s not enough to settle this weight in my gut. If his sister came here to snag Eliza, what’s to say he won’t try to do the very same to save himself and return to his club? What if Blaze made a pit stop and chatted with him?
The thought is enough to make my upper lip curl.
“Judge?” Pen’s voice is soft, cautious. She has this weird power, knowing when I get worked up.
“I’m fine. Just need to have a conversation, that’s all.” Moving to stand, I force a small smile. “Should be alright.”
It depends on how the conversation goes.
Leaving the bar, I stroll over to them. Catching their game, a simple round of poker, I ignore Ace’s cautious glance as he feels the weight of my stare. Smoke picks up on it soon, but only his posture stiffens up. I don’t mean to feel amused, but I swear, most of the prospects stiffen up whenever I come near.
I hope Diesel hasn’t told them to fear me. I’m no threat. Then again, I did ask everyone to watch Ripper’s punishment to prove a point.
Trouble frowns at his cards, but I can’t tell if it’s due to a bad hand or because he’s kept the same expression since he arrived.
Waiting for them to finish, Ace swallows down his victory with a grimace. “Want in the next round? We’re not placing any bets, just trying to pass the time, that’s all.”
Like he can coax me into falling for the same trap the one on my right has, he finds the strength to work a grin on his lips.
Trouble bares his teeth like a wounded dog, his pride sore from what looks like too many games that have ended in the same result. There’s a reason people don’t play any card games with these two.
“Think I’ll pass.” Shifting my gaze to Trouble, I roll a shoulder. “Don’t hold it against them.” Offering a hint of a smile, I take in the brothers. “They cheat when they play. Unless you know their tricks, you can’t tell the difference.”
Ace doesn’t deny my words, but wears a smile that shines. Smoke scoffs, offended. “Got proof, old man?”
Hard not to notice how many drinks Ace wants to take from his water, or how many times Smoke curses under his breath despite clearly winning. That doesn’t even include theircombined talents of counting cards, no matter what game they play.
Can’t let them realize just how observant I am without making them change things up. Then again, I’m not in the mood to give myself a headache by playing their game. I’ve already got enough going on up there.
“Call me that again, and I won’t give you the job I had in mind.” Keeping my voice light, I even crack a smile despite the insult. “Without Diesel, you’re probably bored of hanging around.”
Ace’s chair scrapes, and he’s already on his feet. His excitement gives me a taste of nostalgia. “Should’ve started with that. What do you need?”
“Need you to run a sweep of the perimeter. Enjoy some fresh air while you’re at it. Tell me if anything suspicious pops up.” Jerking my chin to motion them to leave, I watch as they don’t think twice to abandon the cards so they can taste a little freedom.
Even the prospects are feeling the pressure of everything that’s going on. It’s a terrible thing.
Taking a seat next to him, I gather the cards in my hands and take in their worn shape. Shared by everyone, it’s a shame to see how rough the cards are. Some are bent, some faded so poorly that it wouldn’t take much effort to memorize which one is which.
Trouble doesn’t speak, nor do I expect him to. So, I fill the silence between us with the sound of cards slapping against each other. One slips from my hold, falling beneath the table.
“You’re terrible at that.” His voice is a murmur, his eyes tracking the clumsy motion of my fingers.
“Not trying to impress anyone,” I say, my tone flat and even. I keep my gaze down, feeling the heat of his glare on the crownof my head. “Just passing the time while I figure out your endgame.”
He shouldn’t be shocked by my suspicion. The club might have provided him with leather and shelter, but we’re not a charity. We’re a pack of wolves, and he smells like a wounded bear. My judgment only makes his scowl worse. No one enjoys being the black sheep or sticking out like a broken bone.
“I’m not the kind to beat around the bush.” I finally lift my head and meet his gaze dead-on. The anger in his eyes is a familiar fire; I’ve seen it in my own reflection. “I don’t trust you. I still don’t trust Haven, either. I don’t like the way she has my VP wrapped around her finger, and I don’t like that he offered you a place here without running it by me first.”
