Page 73 of Rush the Edge

I change out of my sweats and throw on some jeans and a long-sleeve top. I rush out the door with no real plan on how to get to where I need to go, but one thing is for certain. If Kane is gambling, something is seriously wrong.

Twenty-Six

KANE

I searchfor my phone on the blackjack table while I wait for the rest of these idiots to make their wager. My vision blurs a little, and my hands are slow as I pat both my pockets.

Where is it?

All I want to do is reread the texts from River.

I scoff so loud the dealer glances at me with a furrowed brow. I should have the texts memorized by now because I’ve reread them at least fifty times.

River confirmed Daisy’s confession and explained how difficult the last year and a half has been for her. Then he confides in me, as if I’m equipped to give him reassuring words of comfort.

“Stupid,” I mumble.

Lupus.

Her immune system attacks itself, potentially damaging her organs.

My skin is crawling, and it has nothing to do with the liquor rushing through my veins or the fact that I’m at a casino.

I study the man with broad shoulders past the dealer who has a woman with light hair pinned to his side.

Daisy?

I shake my head and right my vision.

Clearly, my buzz is starting to wear off.

I raise my finger at the cocktail waitress who’s been eyeing me all night. She and the bouncer both glance at me every few minutes. They’re either both into me or they’re hearing little whispers in their ears from the men upstairs about how I’m going to rob them of all their money. Little do they know that I’m only here because I need to make up for what I gave away earlier, thanks to the real gambler of the family.

“Don’t get another drink.”

I peer over my shoulder, and Malaki is standing there.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“You invited me.”

I did?

His face screws. “You’re worse than I thought.”

“I’m fine,” I grunt.

I brush him off and turn back to the table. It’s my turn. Thinking back to my cards, I glance at the dealer’s card once more before flicking my chin. “Hit.”

A darkness fills me when I take the card from him. Gambling runs in my blood, and I know better than anyone that it’s a dangerous thing to play with.

“You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow,” Malaki warns from behind.

I shrug without looking at him. “At least I don’t look like shit.”

“Oh, thank god,” he mutters.

Yes, thank god.

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