Page 21 of Feed Your Fiends

“Well?” I ask Hale, who’s staring at the twenty-seven grand banded into multiple stacks in his lap with bloodshot eyes.

He’s looking from the rolls to his phone and then to me on a circuit. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head because money’s more important to him than loyalty right now. It’s right in front of him, and Gant…well, he’s a text message away, and yet, it’s obvious Hale hasn’t got a reply. And I’m betting that he’ll be desperate enough to choose me over Gant.For now.

I’d repeatedly overheard Hale refusing to ask his mother for a loan. When I applied to be a bartender, Stassi and I caught the tail end of him venting about it to his only employee, Rie Rie. Then again, when we arrived, and he was finishing up a heated conversation with who Rie mouthed was ‘his mother’ far too loudly.

Then there’s the rest of the horsemen who have no faith in his shitty club that’s meant to open in a matter of days. But I do. Well, I have the faith of a mustard seed.

I shift on the mustard, moth-eaten couch now and remind myself not to rub the tiredness from my eyes, lest I get pink-eye on top of everything else. Despite being bedridden for the past four days, I’m tired. Restless. Because while I have a plan, I don’t have a backup. And I can’t truly rest until I secure the next step.

Hale has to accept my offer because twenty-seven grand could be gone in a year on rent alone, but as an investment with Beaulieu’s brand-new king? It could mean the difference between several months of budgeted comfort or an empty bank account now that’ll grow fatter each month with the amount of money Beaulieu’s king could rake in…thatwecould rake in. And that’s what everything comes down to:money. I can’t beat anything or anyone in this world without it.

Not homelessness. Not my medical care. Not Gant.

In Hale’s case, it's not his social circle he’s fighting tooth and nail to break out of.

He picks up a wad of cash and rolls it between his fingers contemplatively.

“I know that money is nothing to you usually,” I say, not under any delusions that it’ll solve all his problems.

He probably wiped his ass with more each month, well, before his pride got in the way.

“But it’s a lot to you.” He arches a brow. “Where did you get it?”

But we both already know. He may not know the specifics, but he knows Gant’s involved in some capacity. But Stassi doesn’t.

I really was an uncultured swine before Rin showed me her scheming ways because I’d never pegged Stassi Beaumont as one oftheeBeaumonts. As in Beaumont Diamonds. I’d hoped she’d have good connections, but the discovery of her family’s three-level empire downtown far exceeded my expectations.

To Gant, the gorgeous marques ring was probably nothing, just a replica of the props department’s fake ring. To me, though, it was perfect. The perfect size, cut and sparkle.

My finger itches from a phantom touch of Gant sliding the ring onto it. Everything had felt so surreal at that moment, and I should’ve understood right then and there that it was just a fantasy.

I tear my eyes away from the rolled notes I’d got in exchange for my dream ring. I’d never seen that amount of cash in person before, much less held it for the twenty minutes that it took to get to Libellule. And as fast as a blink, it was out of my palms.

But it’s the best investment I could make. Not a ring that could only sit pretty.

An investment on Gant’s dime,my inner voice taunts.You’ll always be tied to him. Even when you collect that three hundred grand for outing the driver, it’ll still be just another financial connection to the Auclairs.

But then I’d be able to cut the ties afterward, for good. I’d been so against using Gant’s money before and now it’s a stepping stone to get the fuck away from him, and Jaime and this town with all its bad memories.

“Does it matter? You need investors, no matter how small.” I glance around the dank room. “It doesn’t seem like anyone else has come through, and your grand opening is in nine days, right?”

Hale can get investors. It’s his pride that won’t let him look outside his horsemen. Including his horseman’s sister, who’s sitting right beside him. Stassi.

Hale’s baby blues shift to the peeling wallpaper near my head.

“No one else has come through,” I confirm, based on his expression alone. “But I’m right here, and I’m ready to turn this place into what you’ve been dreaming of.”

Hale says nothing. His eyes are like hollow tunnels stretching so far into the recesses of his mind that I know he’s not really present.

“Ireallywant to have my birthday party here,” Stassi says softly, and his eyelashes flutter as his gaze cuts to her because suddenly, he’s listening.Intently.

I look at their joined knees, touching toes, and constant physical connection because Hale always ensures it. Even if it’s just his arm around her chair, his fingers playing with the ends of her long blonde hair that only her stylist is allowed to touch.

“You know my family’s rule. I can only go if Zedd does. And Zedd won’t agree to have our eighteenth birthday here if it still looks like this.”

Hale’s shoulders deflate.

He and Zedd were supposedly besties, but I felt the strain between them the few times Gant managed to force me onto his lap and amongst his friends. The biggest stress point between them is who Hale is obsessed with. Who Hale would do anything for, besides take her money.

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