Page 4 of Fortune's Favor

I don’t think I believe him. I love him. But I don’t think I believe him.

Iron Hills hasn’t changed much since I left Wyoming with my mom. It’s still a lonely, wild area. But at that time, Jerry was a beat cop and he was gone most nights.

That was one of the things that pissed my mom off. That and he didn’t make nearly enough money for her. He had a nice, big house that he’d inherited from his parents when they died and my mom was under the impression that he had money.

And he was under the impression that she loved him. Both of them were wrong.

As soon as she found out he didn’t have money, she was gone. But I stayed in contact with Jerry for a long time. He was my lode stone sometimes. He was the one who kept me sane in mom’s craziness.

I like to think that I love her and I miss her but it’s hard sometimes. Because she made my childhood a mess. That kindof thing is hard to forget. Not to mention that she took me from the one guy that I really loved and felt understood me.

Jerry knew my secret and he kept it all these years. Until now.

He sighs. “I know you don’t believe it. But Gypsy’s the real deal. I’ve known her for a long time and she’s totally legit.”

The guy doesn’t say anything and I’m thankful because the look on his face says he’s got a lot to say.

“I’m not sure about this, Jerry,” I start. He waves me off and the feeling in the pit of my stomach makes me want to pop a bunch of Tums.

The guy across from me is gorgeous. I mean in the dictionary he would be the guy whose picture was under “tall, dark and handsome.” Deep blue eyes like the sky at last light. Full, sensual lips which are currently so tight I’m surprised his mouth isn’t folded all the way in. Long, dark eyelashes which are a crime against women everywhere. We should all rise up and revolt at wearing mascara because of those eyelashes.

He’s tall and broad and yet lean, like a runner. When I look at him it’s like a physical punch to the chest but yet I can’t see a damn thing. Not his aura, not his future. Nothing. He’s like a blank page in a diary.

Jerry smirks at me and waves at the guy. “Gypsy Devine, this is Alexander Fortune.” I groan at the name but Jerry laughs. “I know. It’s perfect isn’t it?”

“That’s debatable, Jerry.”

“Anyway. Gypsy Devine is my stepdaughter….well, was my stepdaughter while I was briefly married to her mother a lifetime ago. Anyway, she and I stayed in touch after the divorce. Gypsy here showed up at my door last night and she’d been hurt.”

Stabbed. Yeah. It did fucking hurt.

“So go to the cops where you live.”

I glare at him and fight the urge to stick my tongue out at the bastard when Jerry glares back at him too. “Not an option, Fortune. She needs someone to watch over her twenty-four seven.”

“Who exactly are you watching out for? I mean, do you know who or what is messing with you and how?”

“I don’t know who he is.”

Satisfaction rises in his face and he smirks. “You’re not a very good psychic then, are you?”

Jerry nods at me and I sigh, grumbling, “I can’t see my own future anymore. It’s all black. Like a television set on the fritz.”

“Does that mean that you’ve got no future?”

“I-I honestly don’t know. It’s always sketchy for a psychic to see their own future but I can usually see something even if it’s just a flash. But right now? Nothing.”

“Okay. So you don’t have a clue what the hell is going on here.”

“I do not.”

“I take back what I said previously. You sound like a terrible psychic,” he scoffs.

“And you sound like a dick,” I growl back at him, fighting the urge to stick my tongue out.

Jerry sighs. “You two fight like little children. Could we keep this on track? I need you to watch out for Gypsy. And if you do I’ll give you what you’ve been fighting for for years. Despite my reservations.”

Alex doesn’t answer back but I can practically smell the rubber burning in the room while he’s considering his options.

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