Page 30 of Spinner's Luck

The conversation drifted back to lighter topics. Tillie cracked jokes, Brenda rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at her lips, and Fiona listened quietly, her lips quirking up at the corners as if amused by all of us. Even Amy chimed in a couple of times, her voice barely louder than a whisper, but it was enough to earn a proud look from Brenda.

I couldn’t help but study Amy as the laughter and banter flowed around us. There was something fragile about her, something haunted. It was in her eyes—eyes that had seen too much. I’d seen it before in other women, in myself. She was a victim. Brenda was her saving grace; that much was clear in the way Amy seemed to cling to her approval.

What was her story?

Tillie’s voice broke through my thoughts. “You’re starin’ into space, Lucy. See somethin’ you like?”

“Cut it out, Tillie,” Brenda said, though her tone was more amused than scolding.

“Just thinking,” I replied.

“Curiosity can be dangerous around here,” Brenda said, her gaze steady on me. “But it can also keep you alive if you know how to play it.”

I wasn’t sure if it was a warning or a challenge, but either way, it made me smirk. “Good thing I know how to play.”

Tillie grinned. “I like her.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Brenda muttered, but there was no real heat in her words.

“Lucy,” Fiona said softly, drawing my attention. “Whatever brought you here... you’ve got people now. Just remember that.”

Her words struck something deep in me, something I didn’t even realize I was holding on to. I gave her a small nod, unable to fully trust myself to speak.

The night wore on, the guys’ laughter and pool cues clattering in the back as we continued our conversations. I nursed my whiskey, letting the burn settle in my chest, and just let myself enjoy the here and now.

But in the back of my mind, the question lingered: How long could I do that?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

FLICK STOOD ATthe end of the table, his shoulders stiff,his voice tight with anger as he relayed what had gone down with Dragon Fire. Beside him, the prospect Hunter, a kid barely out of high school, fresh to the life, tried to hold his composure. He had done well for someone so green, but I could see the fear flickering in his eyes. It wasn’t every day you had a close call with the afterlife.

“They surrounded us, Devil,” Flick said, his words clipped. “Drago smashed up the truck and said the roads belong to them now. Told us we’d have to pay up if we wanted to move throughtheirterritory.”

Devil leaned back in his chair, his expression cold and unreadable. He exhaled slowly, like he was calculating every possible angle. “Anything else?” he asked, his tone calm but edged enough to cut.

Hunter swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He glanced at me and Mystic, hesitating before he spoke. “He... he said to return his ol’ lady—or you’re a dead man—and...” He trailed off, his voice cracking.

“And?” Devil pressed, his tone icy.

Hunter’s gaze darted around the table before saying, “Fang said to tell Lucy he sends his regards... and to give her a big kiss from him.”

The room went deathly still, tension rippling through the air like a storm about to break. I sat up straighter, fists tightening as my pulse thundered in my ears.

“What else did he say about her?” I bit out.

Hunter flinched. “That’s all he said.”

“They’re baitin’ us,” Bolt said, breaking the silence. His voice was steady, but his eyes were cold as steel. “Trying to rattle us by draggin’ the women into it.”

“They ain’t just baitin’ us.” Mystic's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as his expression turned lethal. A muscle ticked in his cheek, his presence radiating pure menace from the shadows. “They’re askin’ to get buried.”

“Fang’s known for bein’ ruthless,” Chain added, leaning back with a lazy grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Ran with some nasty street gangs before Drago picked him up.”

“Why does he care about Lucy?” I asked, so fucking frustrated.

“She’s connected to him somehow,” Gatsby said quietly, barely looking up from the glass of whiskey he was spinning in his hands. “They either think they can use her—or there’s something Lucy hasn’t told us.”

All eyes turned my way, their silence heavier than a loaded shotgun aimed at my gut.

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