I’m going to get through this. I have to.
“I love you, Jagger,” she murmurs.
“Love you, too.”
“I’m sorry?” Ford scoffs. “Did I just hear you two using what constitutes a very controversial four-letter word in the Harden household?”
“Says the guy who drops F-bombs every thirty seconds.” June slaps her hand over her mouth as if she’s as surprised by her own two-cents as we are.
Impressed, Ford folds his arms and rocks back on his heels. “There a problem with the word, fuck, June Bug?”
“No problem,” she squeaks.
“You sure?”
Her head bobs up and down. “Mm-hmm.”
“Then, uh, why do you look like you’re staring up at the boogeyman?” he challenges, moving closer to her.
Blindly stepping backward, she mirrors his movements but stops short when she realizes there’s nowhere else to disappear. “It’s just…is there a problem with the word love?”
“Love’s gotta exist for me to use it. Although.” He turns his attention to me and Vi. “You two do make a good argument for it.” Giving June some space, he adds, “Anyway, I should probably get back to work. This money won’t collect itself, am I right?”
“Wait.” Violet digs into her back pocket and reveals two crumpled hundred dollar bills. The sight alone is enough to make me want to vomit. “Put this on Jag for me?—”
“Keep it.” I snatch the cash from her fingers, fold it back into her pocket, then kiss her nose, hoping it’s enough to take away the sting from my out-of-line behavior.
“Oh, come on,” she pouts. “I want to show my support.”
Dread and resignation coat my insides as I shake my head. “Sorry, Little Thief, but I’m not letting you bet on me. Not tonight.”
“Why not?” she asks.
“Because…” I force my vocal cords to work no matter how clogged they are with deception. “Because it’s called gambling for a reason.”
“You saying we should be worried?” Ford interjects, and I don’t miss the humor in his tone.
My mouth curves up in a smirk. “I wouldn’t go that far.” Leaning down, I kiss Violet one more time. “Stay by Roman, okay?”
She nods. “Okay.” Her fingers dig into my T-shirt. “Hey, Jag?”
“Yeah?”
“Knock him dead, all right?”
“Oh?” Ford says, surprised by my girl’s tenacity.
Violet nods again. “After all the shit he’s put me through? I’d say he deserves it, don’t you?”
He does deserve it. Deserves so much more than a solid ass whooping. Instead, I’m about to hand him a win, bragging rights, and more money than the asshole knows what to do with. That’s a lie. I think he knows exactly what he’s going to do with his winnings. He’s going to stake his claim in The Drift with it. Bile floods my mouth at the thought.
What the hell am I doing?
“Jag!” Roman calls from the edge of the mat. “It’s time.”
I shake my head and reach for the collar of my T-shirt. Pulling it off, I hand the dark material to Violet when Hawke stops me.
“Be careful, all right?” he warns.
