“He will soon enough, especially if this keeps up.”
I listened to them go back and forth while watching the screens.A name popped up in red among bets coming in, and that hadn’t happened before.
“Uh, Forge,” I said, not looking away from it, “there is a bet that just came up in red.Does that mean anything?”
And just like before, he was there beside me, leaning down so close that his hair tickled my nose as he read the name.“Dumb fucker,” he muttered with a shake of his head, then tapped the screen twice before pulling another cell phone from his back pocket.
Meanwhile, my stomach was going off like a balloon full of butterflies.I liked it when he was close like that.
“Dwon just placed a bet on the Bulls,” he said into the phone.“It was rejected.Yeah.I’d say go there next then.He’s got money to bet, then he can pay up.I’d get the cash before you take the fingers.But, eh, you do you.”
He ended the call and glanced back at me to catch me staring at him.Great.
“The red names mean they owe us already and are past due.Good catch,” he told me.
I tried not to ask, but, well, I had to know.“When you saidtake the fingers, was that literal or …”
He smirked then, and that dark glint was back in his eyes.“He owes us money, Pickles.A lot of it.”
That was not an answer, but I had the feeling it meant yes.
“Oh,” I replied, dropping my gaze back to the iPad.
Maybe the Mafia hadn’t changed much.I just never pictured them having Southern accents or driving trucks.
“Pickles,” Forge said, using the nickname it seemed he was labeling me with, and I looked back up at him.His expression softened some.“They’re just fingers.”His tone was gentle, like he was talking to a child.
“Listen, I feel that I need to step in here and ask you if telling her that is allowed.”
Gathe’s voice reminded me he was in the room.I’d forgotten for a moment.
Forge barely glanced at him, then went back to watching the screen.
“Damn, the Wizards didn’t pull it out,” Forge said.“Didn’t expect it, but for a minute there, I thought they may have it.”
I went back to work, trying not to imagine Oz slicing off some unknown man’s fingers.Sure, he had that tall, dark, and brooding thing going, but Winslet was so sweet.Would she marry a man who cut off people’s fingers?Have a kid with him?I couldn’t imagine that she would, no matter how attractive he might be—and Oz Savelle was movie-star hot.I didn’t think he’d truly do that if someone didn’t pay them.
It was after one in the morning when the screen was cut off, and Forge dropped the remote onto the table, then faced me.
“You did good, Pickles,” he told me.“You definitely earned your cut.”
“My what?”I asked.
“Cut.Portion,” he replied.“You didn’t think I was working you like that for free, did you?”
I glanced over at Gathe, who was typing away on his phone, not looking at us, then back to Forge.“Uh, yeah, I was just helping.”
A crooked grin curled his lips, and my stomach got all wonky again.“And you did, and you get a cut for it.”
I shook my head.“No.I am staying in this house.Y’all are keeping me alive.I am not taking any money whatsoever.That made me feel like I was doing something to help.Not just some burden placed on all of you.”
His brows drew together.“That’s a harsh way to describe it.”
I shrugged.“It’s an accurate one though.”
He studied me for a moment.“No, it’s not.”He looked sheepish then.“I’ll admit, at first, I did see it that way.With things here—Mom, you know—I didn’t like that Calvin was asking us to do this.But now that you’re here”—his lips quirked—“I find that I like you being around.You’re entertaining.”
“Seeing as how I placed my bet on you,” Gathe said, standing up and stretching, “I’m gonna leave you to it and go on up to bed.”
