Page 34 of Spinner's Luck

“Lucy.”

The voice was low, soothing—a tether pulling me back to the here and now. I turned my head, my breath hitching at the sight of Spinner. He sat up on the cot across the room, his sharp eyes locked on me like he could see right through the cracks.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft, but the concern beneath it hit hard.

I nodded, too quickly, trying to tamp down the tears threatening to spill over. “Yeah,” I rasped, my throat raw. “It’s nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothin’,” he said, rising to his feet in one smooth motion. His feet barely made a sound as he crossed the room.

I turned my face away, pressing my palms into it like I could block out the shame that clawed at me. “Just a bad dream.”

Spinner didn’t say anything right away, but I felt the bed shift as he sat on the edge, close but not too close.

“You were yellin’ for someone,” he said quietly.

I swallowed hard, my hands sliding down to rest in my lap. “Aria. My sister.”

His brow furrowed, his eyes never leaving my face. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No.” The word came too fast, my voice brittle. But the images from the dream dug their claws in, refusing to let go. The weight of it all pressed down on me, suffocating. “I mean... I don’t know. It’s hard.”

“If it’s got you this shook up,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind, “then you need to let it out.”

I glanced at him, and for a moment, I hated how much he saw. How he didn’t judge, didn’t push, just sat there steady as a rock. Like he wasn’t going anywhere. And maybe that’s what broke me.

“She was four,” I began, the words barely audible. “I was nine. Mom was with us at the park, but she got distracted. I moved to play with some other kid, and Aria...” My voice faltered. “She disappeared.”

Spinner stayed silent, his body still, but the muscle in his jaw twitched. He was listening, every word sinking in.

“They found her a few days later,” I continued, my voice breaking. “But it was too late. The men who took her...” My throat tightened. “They sexually assaulted her. And then they left her to die.”

The words hung heavy between us, suffocating the air. I waited for him to say something, anything, but all he did was reach out, his hand brushing mine with a gentleness that surprised me.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. But the sincerity in it crashed over me like a wave, drowning out everything else.

I nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “I read the police file when I was sixteen. The investigation concluded that sex traffickers took her, but Aria didn’t survive what they call a ‘test’. If her battered body had survived, she was a keeper—as they put it—if not, then... It’s why I do what I do. I couldn’t save her, but maybe I can save someone else.”

His grip tightened, solid and unshakable, pulling me back when the darkness threatened to drag me under. “You gotta face it, Lucy, this isn’t on you. It’s the only way to keep those demons from clawing through your sleep.”

I let out a shaky laugh, swiping at the tears spilling over. “You make it sound so damn easy.”

“It’s not,” he replied, his finger wiping at my tears. “But it can be done. I’m walkin’ proof.”

I looked at him then, really looked, and saw it in his eyes, he cared. It was simple, raw, and it hit me hard. It scared the hell out of me, just as much as it soothed me.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why put up with me?”

He hesitated, his gaze falling to where our hands were joined. “Because I know what it’s like,” he said finally. “To feel like the past is always right there, breathin’ down your neck. To feel like you’re runnin’ and never gettin’ away.” His hand lifted, his rough fingers brushing against my cheek. “And maybe I care about you more than you’re thinkin’.”

My breath caught, his words hitting me hard.

“Spinner...”

“I’m not sayin’ I’ve got all the answers,” he cut in, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. “Hell, I’m a mess myself. But I do know this, you’ve got me. Whether you believe it or not.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, the crushing weight lifted, just a little. I wasn’t drowning. Not tonight.

“Thanks,” I murmured, swiping at my cheeks. “And yeah, it’s hard to believe you care about me. Even I know I’m a pain in the ass.”

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