Wylder clears his throat, apparently finding the tabletop very interesting. “Thought you might have a date tonight.”
“Nope.” Neo cocks his head, feigning confusion. “Why would you think that?”
Wylder shrugs. “Seems like you’ve been gone more often than not recently.”
“Aww, one might think you’ve missed me,” Neo purrs.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I just track where you are because of the damage you tend to leave in your path.”
Neo sits back in his chair, a smug smile on his face. “Sure. That’s why.”
Ansel leans in to murmur in my ear, “I want to add another ten dollars to the pot on a date four months from now.”
I pat his knee. “You got it, butterfly.”
I don’t tell him that the bets surpassed his limits several weeks ago. He knows what the pot is up to, but not that we’ve just increased how much we’re putting in. Whenever he asks me to contribute for him, I just match whatever the most recent bet was. Ansel has gone back to hacking, taking on low-risk jobs, and is bringing in his own money. I’ve told him repeatedly that I have enough money for not just us, but half of St. Dismas, but he’s insistent.
It makes him happy to work, so I don’t argue. If Ansel’s happy, then I’m happy.
“Harley’s also missing,” Wyatt points out. “He was at our place earlier, flirting with Jules again.”
Of course he was. “Do we think he’s ever going to lock that down?”
Nobody answers my question. Like me, they have no fucking clue what’s going on with the two of them.
Harley finally strolls in with a wicked gleam in his eye. He saunters right up to Samson before delicately putting a silver object on the table in front of him. “Your precious playing piece, sir.”
Samson’s face goes through an amusing variety of colors. First white, then gray, purple, and then finishing up with a fetching red. “This better be a brand-new piece, Harley. I swear to fucking god.”
“I’d never disappoint you like that,” Harley chirps, taking his seat. I notice he doesn’t pull it all the way to the table. Almost like he’s waiting for the bomb he’s set to ignite. “It’s the exact same one. Your favorite. Had to wait a while for it to pass. Jules said it’s a sign I’m not eating enough fiber. He’s given me a list of foods to add to my diet.”
No one comments on that. We’re all too busy eyeing the tiny silver iron with disgust and awe.
“Is it… Please tell me it’s sterilized?” Wylder asks with a pained wince. “I might have to burn the table otherwise.”
“It is.” Harley rocks his chair back on two legs. “It traveledthrough my digestive system, but it’s probably cleaner than it’s ever been.”
Samson glares at him. “You can’t seriously think I’m going to play with this?”
Harley gives him an innocent smile. “Why not? What’s the problem, Samson?”
“I’ll tell you what the problem is,” he growls before prowling forward with his dagger drawn.
As they get into it, Ansel sighs. “They’re going to be at this for a while.”
“Probably.”
He chews at his lips, making me touch his arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s just…” He gives me a tentative smile. “Well, I have a surprise for you. I was kinda hoping this wouldn’t last all night so I could tell you about it.”
“Is it time sensitive?”
“Not at all, I’m just excited.”
I tug him to his feet. If Ansel’s excited, then so am I. “Be right back.”
When we’re in the corridor, I box him in against the wall. “What have you got up your sleeve?”
