“Because she makes the noise in my head quiet,” he said, ignoring the jab. “Same way Valkyrie seems to for you. You think that feeling comes around twice?”
I didn’t answer. I knew he was right. I had feelings for her that were growing stronger every day, and that scared me. She felt like gravity to me. Grounded me. Or like the Sun, and I was orbiting around her. I needed to focus on the now. Webothneeded to focus on the now. And I know I’m worried about shit in the future that’s unpredictable. But I didn’t want to be a distraction, or to hurt her.
Across the room, Tanya threw her head back and laughed at something Valkyrie said. Rebecca shook her head, smiling. Quinn laughed too, shared a glance with Miami. Valkyrie’s shoulders loosened for a second. Like she’d dropped armor she didn’t even realize she’d been carrying.
She glanced over again. Not searching. Just… checking.
We caught each other mid-look. There it was again—that small shock of recognition. Like two tuning forks humming the same note.
I looked away first.
“Miami—”
“You don’t have to convince me,” he said quietly. “I’m already sold.”
He tipped his glass toward me in a small toast.
“To short lives,” he said. “And not wasting them.”
I clinked my glass against his because doing anything else felt like a lie.
We let the silence stretch after that. Not a bad one. Just… full.
“What do you think Tesauro’s doing right now?” Miami asked eventually, the tone shifting back toward business.
“Counting money,” I said. “Planning. Maybe yelling at some Serpents for not dying in the right pattern at The Black Velvet.”
“He’ll come again,” Miami said. “He didn’t hit the armory, the bars, the clubs, and the Vipers just to pack up and go home.”
“No,” I agreed. “He’s waiting. Either for us to make a move he can exploit, or for Roman to play whatever card he may be holding so he can try to burn it out of his hand.”
“Roman worries me,” Miami admitted. “Not because he’s weak. Because he’s not. But men like that, when they finally admit something’s rotting in their house, they tend to swing the hammer way too hard.”
“You’re afraid he’s going to start a fire we have to walk through,” I said.
He shrugged. “Something like that. I trust Blackjack. I even trust Liberty. But Roman? I trust him to do what’s best for Roman. I just hope that lines up with what’s best for us long enough to getthrough this.”
I didn’t disagree.
A crack and a muttered curse pulled our attention toward the pool table again. 8-Ball had just sunk another ball with annoying precision. Blackjack straightened, narrowed his eyes at the table like it had betrayed him.
“You’re cheating,” he said.
“With geometry?” 8-Ball asked. “Yeah. Okay.”
“You’ve been practicing without me,” he accused.
“I practice while you’re on the phone with your boyfriend,” he said.
Blackjack punched his brother in the arm. The room shared a collective laugh.
My eyes slid to Valkyrie. She’d turned now, elbows on the bar again, listening to Quinn. Tanya was saying something about wanting to see Liberty and Blackjack in the same room. Quinn rolled her eyes, but there was a softness in her expression now that Miami was in sight when she looked around. Rebecca nodded, adding in something about babysitting grown children in leather.
Valkyrie laughed at that, real and quick, before she caught herself.
Miami followed my line of sight and sighed.
“You’re hopeless,” he said.
