Gambler's Fallacy (Calamity City Mafia #2)

Chapter 1

ONE

SEVEN

I want to say I’m getting better at blackjack, but I haven’t been keeping track of my wins and losses. I stare at the cards in front of me, which add up to seventeen.

I should stop here. The chances of staying under twenty-one are slim. I know Havoc would be on my case to stop playing it risky.

The dealer—a young black woman with her curly hair pulled back into a ponytail—makes a noise. “What will it be, Sir?”

She’s new, and I guess nobody warned her about me yet. The other three people at the table look disgruntled.

I’m not going to beat the dealer win with a seventeen. It’s better if I get another card, because while the chances of getting a four or less aren’t very high, it’s better than staying.

“Hit me,” I finally say, remembering to scratch my table to signal for another card.

As usual, the universe is against me, and a seven is dealt.

My lips curl into a sneer. Lucky number seven, my ass.

One of the others beats the dealer, of course, and I look sullenly at him as he celebrates his nineteen to the dealer’s eighteen .

The dealer hands the winner his earnings and congratulates him. She flirts with him to get him to play again, then turns to me. “What about you, sugar? Your luck must be turning around soon.”

She definitely has my number, and she’s not like Madeline, who discourages me whenever she can. I gnaw on my bottom lip. “Yeah, it has to,” I tell her, which is true not only of cards but also of life .

We got rid of Raymond—we killed him—and Caleb assured me that we’d do the same to any other enforcers the family sent my way. At some point, they’ll give up. At some point, I’ll be free of them.

I can’t let myself think otherwise because the panic bubbles up within me every time I do.

“Deal me in,” I say.

I spot Havoc walking my way, and I sit up straighter. I’m not going to feel guilty about how I pass the time.

“Hey,” Havoc says, placing his arm around my shoulder. “Weren’t we going to meet for lunch?”

He’s wearing his usual leather jacket, t-shirt, and jeans combination, and his short black hair is disheveled. I press against him, taking comfort in his warm, muscular body.

The dealer hesitates before dealing out the next round of cards.

“That isn’t until one, though,” I say, blinking up at him. It can’t possibly be one o’clock yet. I came down here at nine, and there’s no way four hours have passed with me flitting between the tables and the stupid slot machines.

Havoc holds his phone out to me. It reads 1:38 pm.

Fuck.

The dealer clears her throat, and I cast an annoyed glance at her for interrupting.

I know I’m not supposed to inconvenience any guests — and besides, I have to win this round after losing the last three. “Just a second,” I tell Havoc. “Let me finish this round.”

Havoc sighs. “Seven…” He looks at the spread on the table and shakes his head. “I know it’s basically Monopoly money to you, but it looks like you’ve lost close to six thousand already. ”

Monopoly is a board game. The four of us had played, and it had gone on for hours because Caleb insisted nobody was allowed to quit until one person owned all the properties. I don’t think I like the game at all, but at least Caleb had gone easy on me so I didn’t come in dead last.

Six thousand, though. Has it really been so much money? I should care, but it’s not like six k is that much to Caleb, right? It’s technically going into his pockets. I sigh, though. “Okay. Just this last round. I’ve lost so much that I have to win this time.”

The dealer is eyeing me impatiently, and I finally look at my card. It’s an ace, which can either be one or eleven, and I rush through having her add cards as I get closer to twenty-one. I’m at fifteen when I need to make my final decision.

“What do you think?” I ask Havoc. He’s not supposed to gamble here, but that doesn’t mean I can’t ask for advice — and this dealer obviously thinks I’m some random loser who’s here to line Caleb’s pockets.

Havoc sighs. “I don’t know, Seven.” He looks at the other cards on the table, and I know he’s doing mental math. “Hit, I guess.”

“Go for it,” I tell the dealer.

She flips over another card, and bitter disappointment races through me as I get another fucking seven.

Twenty-two.

I let out an aggrieved sound and shove the chips to her, realizing I have now lost almost seven thousand dollars.

I should take a break for a few days, but I know I’ll be back in the morning to try again.

“Okay, okay,” I tell Havoc. “Let’s go.”

Havoc lets go of me, but he glances at the dealer. “Hey, Tina, this is Seven. He’s a regular. Don’t let him play more than one thousand before you kick him off the table.”

“Hey!” I say hotly.

Tina’s eyes widen, and I can tell she’s trying to figure out how much trouble she’s in. “Yes, sir,” she says.

Great. I glare at Havoc and shove his arm. “Now it’s going to take days to win back what I lost,” I snap.

Havoc rolls his eyes. He draws me away from the table, and I press against him even though I’m mad at him. “Remember that thing where the house always wins, Seven? You aren’t going to earn it back,” he says quietly. “You have to cut your losses.”

“My luck has to change,” I tell him earnestly. “I lost like… five times in a row. I was eventually going to win, and with…” I trail off when I see the look on his face, then sigh. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try to be more careful. I just… I have nothing to fucking do all day.” He probably won’t buy the misdirect, even though it’s not entirely untrue.

I’m really, really fucking bored.

“Vortex says Linda could use your help backstage,” Havoc says mildly as we walk toward the restaurant. “I bet the queens would love having you as a stagehand, too.”

I shift uncomfortably at the mention of Linda.

I know she’s nice, and the drag queens consider the event manager a mother figure. But it’s not like I have any reason to like mother figures, and I know that her persona could be a front.

I don’t want to be hurt by that when I see her true colors.

Smile for me, baby. We’re having a good time.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say unenthusiastically.

“You gotta do something other than gamble,” Havoc says. “I know I’ve got no place to judge, but… Caleb says you aren’t watching TV, you don’t touch the video game system, and you haven’t bought a single book on that e-reader we got you.”

I haven’t been able to find much of anything on TV I enjoy, the video games are overwhelming, and I don’t know how to find books — but that isn’t something I want to tell them because they’ll insist on teaching me.

And when they decide I need to learn something, they go all out.

I hate it.

“Gambling is more fun,” I lie.

“It’s not,” Havoc disagrees .

By the time we arrive at the restaurant, I’m stewing with resentment. I take the opposite end of the table from Havoc, even though normally I would slide into the same side.

“Okay, so. What are we going to do in the afternoon?” Havoc asks after the waitress gets our drink order. “Caleb says it should be okay for us to take a car and visit a museum or something.”

I stare at him, uncomprehending. “What?” I had to have heard him wrong. There’s no way Caleb would’ve decided that it’s safe for me to leave the casino when we’re still waiting for some sort of retribution from my family. “Really?”

“Yeah. We’ll be careful, and Vortex will be there too,” Havoc says. “We can’t walk the streets but a quick hop over?” He takes a sip of his water. “I argued for a small hike in the mountains, but that got vetoed.”

“Yeah, because that’s one of the best places for bodies to be dumped,” I retort. “Besides, going for hikes is how I ended up in this whole mess.”

The waitress returns, and I let Havoc order for me like I always do. I’ve had a few negative surprises from when the guys have felt adventurous for one stupid reason or another, but for the most part, they keep it tame.

Except for the time they had me try calamari, which had been greasy and rubbery and disgusting.

It is not the delicacy they said it is.

“But there are fewer people to watch out for out there,” Havoc points out. “Besides…” he trails off and looks at something over my shoulder. “Ugh.”

I turn to see what caught his attention. It’s Caleb, with another man in tow. He’s older than Caleb by ten years, maybe, and his graying hair is slicked back. His suit is nicer than Caleb’s, and my eyes are drawn to the flashy watch.

One of those types. I’m more than familiar with rich men who flaunt their wealth.

Nausea roils within my stomach.

I force my gaze on Caleb instead, appreciating how good he looks in his dark gray suit. He manages to keep his brown hair perfectly styled all day—which makes sense, with how much time he spends getting ready in the mornings. He’s only an inch shorter than Havoc, with a more lithe body, but I know he’s got a bit of definition under that suit.

Caleb stops at our table. “Seven. Havoc. I didn’t expect to see you here. Weren’t you going… out?”

Havoc shrugs. “Yeah. Plans got a bit delayed, is all.”

The man with Caleb stares at me, and I wish I’d chosen to sit next to Havoc after all.

Caleb notices the scrutiny and shifts so he’s closer to me. “Trent, you’ve met Havoc before. And this is Seven, my boyfriend.”

Trent.

All three of them have been elusive about the new general manager, which has been driving me insane. Maybe now that we’ve met, I’ll be able to figure out what the big deal is.

“Nice to meet you,” I say with my best perky smile.

Trent smiles and shakes his head. “Damn. You really come out and say it like that? Your boyfriend? No shame at all?”

Caleb reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “Is there something I should be ashamed of?”

“No, no,” Trent says. “I’m from an older generation. I remember the days when your kind were all closeted. Doesn’t really bother me. More women for me, right?”

That’s not exactly the way it works, especially for smarmy assholes like he seems to be, but I don’t let him in on that little secret.

Besides, I bet he’s three steps away from deciding to try out what a guy feels like.

The thought stops me in my tracks, freezing my smile on my face as I stare down at his expensive watch.

Havoc presses his leg against mine underneath the table. “By the way, how’s your wife doing?” he asks mildly. “I owe her one for hooking me up with my nice apartment. ”

Trent looks surprised by that. “She did that?”

“Yes. Alice is generous like that,” Caleb says. He catches my confused expression, and says, “Alice is my sister. Alice and Trent’s daughter Lori—my niece—is the one who gave me Miss K.”

Right. Family dynamics. I still haven’t met Lori, but I’m not entirely eager to.

I don’t know what I’ll do if I meet her and it turns out she has hollow, haunted eyes.

I shudder, and I push my leg back against Havoc’s, wishing all over again that I’d sat next to him. That’ll teach me to be immature about something so stupid.

“Oh,” I say.

Trent claps Caleb on the shoulder. “I’m only playing about the women thing. You know Alice is my one and only.”

Caleb smiles at Trent, but it’s one of his business smiles. “Of course. I know how strong your marriage is.”

In other words, it isn’t strong at all, and the asshole is probably cheating on Alice.

I don’t point that out.

“Did you want to join us for lunch?” I ask in my best proper voice. “Food should be here any second, though.”

“I wish we could, but I need to finish giving Trent the tour,” Caleb says diplomatically. “He’s been settling in the past few days, but tomorrow he’ll have to manage all his general manager duties without me.”

“Oh, not entirely without you!” Trent says, smiling. “Your executive assistant—Philly, right? I assume she’ll be able to answer my questions when you’re out.”

There are so many names going around, and I don’t really want to remember them all. Trent is setting me on edge, and I’m glad Caleb declined lunch.

Havoc coughs. “If you’re not staying, maybe move out of the way so the server can get to the table?” He points to the waitress waiting behind Caleb and Trent .

Caleb nods and squeezes my shoulder again. “I’ll see you both later. Have fun at the… thing.”

“We will,” I say, still smiling like everyone else.

The smile drops when Caleb and Trent move away from the table, and I wait until the server has set down our food before getting up and moving to sit directly next to Havoc. I grab my plate so it’s right in front of me.

“I don’t like him,” I tell Havoc. “And not just because he’s cheating on his wife.”

Havoc snorts in amusement. “Yeah, he’s a creep. The smarmy act reminds me of how my step asshole was before the mask dropped, though.”

I frown at him. “The mask?”

Havoc tenses and quickly takes a few bites of his food. I wait, wondering if he’s going to answer at all. But I understand not wanting to talk about family or the past, after all.

If I push him, it’ll give him the idea that he can push me.

“He seemed nice, at first,” Havoc finally says. “My stepfather. But after the marriage… probably before that, too, but I was trying to pretend he wasn’t so bad.”

“Oh,” I say softly. I reach out to touch his arm before deciding to rest my head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

I know a lot about masks—and about what’s behind them.

Maybe I understand more about Havoc than I thought.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” I tell him. “We can eat, then we can go to a museum or whatever you think sounds fun.”

I don’t know that a museum trip sounds like the most interesting thing in the world, but it means freedom . It means getting out of the Roi de Pique for the first time in weeks — though I guess the last time hadn’t really counted.

Avoiding being kidnapped doesn’t really count as an outing.

“Yeah. There’s an art museum, or the local history museum…” Havoc lays out potential plans for me, then texts Vortex to come meet us .

When we walk past the gaming tables on our way to the car, I only feel a small twinge of desire to play.

Meeting Trent was unlucky, but going out is lucky.

I was right that the scales have to balance some time.