Chapter 10
Sloane
I’m smiling ear-to-ear as we enter the casino. Vector has my backpack slung over his shoulder, with his saddlebags over his left arm as he holds my hand with his right.
We’re a little later than we had planned since I hadn’t given a thought to riding his motorcycle down here and we had to rummage around, looking for a backpack big enough for most of what I had packed.
It’s my first adult vacation, that is, the first one I’ve been on without family and both he and Pops pointed out, repeatedly, that I packed too many pairs of shoes.
Men.
Besides that, I did love the ride so compromising on the things I’ll need for the next few days isn’t that big of a deal.
“Cowboy!” Vector shouts and I look up to a man about his age walking toward us with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“About fucking time you got here,” he says by way of greeting as Vector drops the saddlebag rather than my hand to give him a one armed hug. “Christ, what is she? A hostage? Let go of her and let me get a look.”
“This is Sloane. Sloane this is Cowboy, he’s the guy I was telling you about, from down South Carolina way,” Vector introduces us, and I start to reach my hand out until I notice he’s shifted his arms to grasp his hands behind his back, giving me a nod instead.
“Nice to meet you,” I reply, slipping my hand back into Vector’s. “Vector was telling me about Hawk’s Landing, it sounds a lot like where I grew up.”
“The Bayou, by the sounds of your accent. Yeah, I’m on my boat almost as much as I am my hog,” Cowboy says with an even larger smile, and I nod. His eyes drop to where our hands are joined, and he lets out a laugh before slapping Vector on his shoulder. “Damn, brother, you and Ford got it bad, huh?”
“Ford?” I ask, not entirely sure of all the guys that are meeting up. Just that, besides the Northern Grizzlies, they’re either going to be Saint’s Outlaws or Demon Chasers.
“DCMC,” Vector softly reminds me before Cowboy continues.
“He found himself a red-head also, barely lets her out of his sight,” he informs us. “We’re going to go play some table games, why don’t y’all get settled and shoot me a text?”
“We haven’t had dinner yet, so after I get the room and feed my woman, I’ll let you know what we’re up for,” Vector responds, much to my relief.
I worked in the field all day, then after scrambling to repack, we just got on the road to get down here. And honestly, I don’t know how Vector’s leg is holding up after that ride.
Parting ways with Cowboy, we head toward the reception desk, where I get distracted by a map of the property.
“Feel free to throw me under the bus tonight, if you’re beat.” I offer him an out if he needs to rest.
“I can take the hit all on my own. I’ll just let Roman know in case he wants to join us for dinner. Unless you want room service?”
“No, stretching my legs sounds good right about now. I am calling the first shower though!”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m becoming a big advocate for water conservation,” he teases me as he unlocks our room.
“What is this?” I gasp, spinning around to look at the extra-large space.
“They offered us an upgrade while you were studying the map,” he replies, watching me with a satisfied smile on his face. “You like it?”
“No.”
“No?”
“The bed’s too big.” As intended, that gets him laughing.
“I’ll remember that when my ass is hanging off the side at 2 A.M.”
“That happened one time,” I sass back, pretending to pout. Apparently, I like to cuddle up against him at night, so the past few nights I’ve crowded him a bit. “Besides, I thought you liked my apology ?”
Just then I hear his stomach rumble and he gives me a wry smile when we make eye contact. “Dinner, then your apology?”
“You want me to apologize in advance?” I ask, throwing my hands up in mock frustration as I slide back into the shoes I walked out of near the door.
“More like it’d be nice to have ten minutes when you’re not sassing the hell outta your man.” The wide grin on his face softens his words, and we’re once again hand in hand as the elevator doors open.
“If you can’t take the heat …” I barely notice the couple who are in the corner of the elevator, until I see the expression on Vector’s face change and instantly start to worry that his leg is cramping up.
“Andrew?” The woman’s voice is soft, but melodic and as I’m turning to look at her, my eyes, instead, catch those of the man holding her.
“Grace,” Vector whispers the name, and the woman finally tears her eyes from his face to look at me.
A person could get whiplash trying to name all the emotions that flash through her eyes. Underlying all of them, the one that I truly feel emanating from her is grief; or maybe that’s just the one I need to focus on to get me through this elevator ride. This is the woman he ghosted; I know that without a shadow of a doubt.
She’s beautiful , I think, more than a little jealous of her dark red hair. My mom’s side of the family is Irish and there are times my hair looks more orange than red. As the surprise fades from her face, the sadness lingers in her eyes. As I continue to study her, I guess that she’s close in age to Vector, but several years younger than the man holding her.
When the alarm rings, I realize that we’re blocking the doors and I tug him inside so we’re face to face with this vision from his past.
“Ford,” Vector says, nodding his head at the man who’s standing behind Grace, her body had previously blocked his cut from my view but the surprise on my face is nothing compared to hers. She immediately stiffens, looking over her shoulder at the man holding her, when she realizes that they know each other.
We continue to stand there, our backs to the door while the car slowly descends and as I’m trying to decide if the elevator was this small on the way up, the only relief I’m afforded is when Ford’s eyes shift to my face again.
“We haven’t met, I’m Ford and this is Grace,” he smoothly introduces them, resting his chin on top of her head.
“I’m Sloane,” I say, suddenly grateful when I feel Vector’s hand drop mine, before wrapping around my hip.
“Are you … well?” Grace asks Vector, and I’m pretty sure my cheeks are as flushed as hers. Her eyes dart to my face again, as if gauging my reaction to her presence.
Vector stands frozen at my side and as the silence drags on, I shift my elbow as slowly as possible to press it into his side. She’s sure as hell not asking me how I’m doing.
As stealthy as I tried to be, Ford catches me in the act and the sudden flare of his nostrils shows his amusement.
“Yeah. Um, yes. Now,” Vector responds to Grace, his eyes are studying her face as he seemingly rectifies his memories with the woman before us.
“When did you get in?” Ford asks him just as the elevator doors open.
“Just now, really,” Vector answers him, clearing his throat as he takes a step backward. “Cowboy said he was meeting the other Saint’s Outlaws at the table games, but we haven’t eaten so were going to grab dinner.”
“We’ll catch up later then,” Ford smoothly replies for them as we back out of the elevator but based on how Grace’s eyes widened at the mention of dinner, I’m fairly certain that they had intended to have a bite to eat also.
With a nod, Vector looks down at me and I point toward the hallway that leads to the adjoining mall.
I smile over my shoulder at the beautiful woman who still looks shaken. “I hope we’ll get to talk later.”
“Yes,” she says, her eyes holding mine before she gives me a tight smile.
Walking away from them, I wait until we’ve put some distance between us before I state the obvious. “She’s the picnic woman.”
“Yes,” he says, exhaling. “I’m sorry, are you alright? I didn’t mean to ignore you back there.”
“I’m slightly less shook than the two of you,” I tell him. “You’re friendly with Ford, right? Is he a good guy?”
“Yeah, Christ, that really threw me. But yes, he’s a good guy,” he answers, smiling down at me. “I don’t have to worry about you eviscerating her with that mouth of yours or smacking her down, do I?”
“I don’t look like her,” I softly whisper, feeling relief that we even have different shades of red hair.
“Hey, babe, come here,” he responds, pushing me up against a wall. “What either of you look like never mattered to me …”
He stops himself when I raise an eyebrow at him, and he rolls his eyes before he continues.
“Look, you’re both gorgeous, other than first glance, that’s not what matters to me. I’m not the man she cared about, and no disrespect to her, but I’m sure she’s not the same person either. I wasn’t out looking for Grace’s clone all these years,” he reassures me, shifting a hand to push two fingers above my left breast. “What’s in here, that’s why I love you. Now and for the rest of my life.”
“I love you, too,” I tell him for the first time.
“I know,” he taunts me with a shit-eating grin.
I click my tongue and lift my chin in the air before turning back to the steakhouse I wanted to try, knowing it’ll bother him if I don’t give him a chance to tease me further.
“Been meaning to ask you,” he calls after me. “No one’s seen Any since that day at the clubhouse, you want to tell me where you hid her body?”
Waving my middle finger over my shoulder gets him belly laughing in response.
Luckily, it’s late enough that we can be seated right away and after the server has taken our order Andrew looks at me in question.
“Why’d you ask that about Ford?”
It takes me a moment to put my feelings to words, and I can’t help the blush that heats my neck once I do. “Because you loved her once, so that tells me that she’s pretty special. And I can see she’s experienced pain, not that it’s all on you, but I’d still want her to be with someone who’ll be as good to her as you are to me.”
At my words, Andrew gets up and moves to the seat next to mine, wrapping his hand around the back of my head to pull me in for a kiss before pressing his forehead to mine.
“I’m not letting you go,” I continue, no longer shy about expressing my thoughts. “To be very clear, she deserves a good man who isn’t you .”
There’s no takebacks or exchanges with me , I think, enjoying the sound and feel of his laugh as he keeps me cuddled against his side.
Vector
“There you are,” Roman’s voice reaches me as we reenter the casino. “Come on, we’ve got a craps table to ourselves.”
I look down at Sloane and she gives me a nod.
“Have you seen Ford?” I ask him, wondering if he remembered Grace from back in the day.
“Yeah, he said he saw you,” Roman answers me, looking distracted. “He’s got a woman with him also.”
“It’s Grace,” I tell him, watching his face for long seconds until he registers who I’m talking about.
“No shit,” he practically whispers, his eyes cutting over toward Sloane.
I open my mouth, but my Ol’ Lady beats me to it.
“I know.”
“If you know about Grace,” Roman replies, giving her a smile. “Then I’m guessing you know more than I do. And I’m glad this motherfucker finally found someone he would talk to.”
“Me too,” I add, giving Sloane a wink before smiling in Roman’s direction.
“She’s changed,” Roman mumbles the words, and I know he’s referring to Grace. “A lot.”
Continuing on, Roman guides us through the crowd, straight up to the last few spots at the table our buddies are playing at. Bookending Sloane between us, I greet Ford and Grace who are directly across the table, before I introduce Sloane to all the guys around the long side.
King, from Ford’s Demon Chasers is standing next to his Prez, then the Saint’s Outlaws are represented by Hangman from North Carolina, with Demo and Cowboy hailing from South Carolina, then the three of us. The stick man doesn’t blink an eye when confronted by a group of bikers, but I’m not surprised to see extra security loitering in the background.
Once the table is off, I throw down six hundred for chips and split them between Sloane and me, quickly getting a panicked look from her.
“I don’t know how to play!” she exclaims, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Pass the dice to the virgin!” Demo immediately responds to her statement, getting nods from all the others.
“No, really,” she tries to protest, but no one will hear it.
“Sloane,” I calmly say her name, as she chews her bottom lip. “I got ya. I’ll help you place your bets. You just roll the dice.”
Looking up at me, she narrows her eyes and I know she wants more details on the rules, but there isn’t time. Even if Sloane feels cornered, she nods in agreement rather than make a scene.
When I give her a nod, she rolls the dice and promptly rolls a seven—ensuring we all double the money we put on the pass line.
“Virgins,” one of the men chuckle the word out, getting everyone going.
After the money’s paid out, Sloane rolls an eleven. When she sees us all getting paid out again, she leans up to me.
“I thought sevens were bad? What is happening?”
“Don’t tell her,” Cowboy crows from across the table, his eyes shifting from mine to hers. “You just keep it going, Sloane.”
At my nod, she rolls again, hitting a four. I put chips from both of our piles on six, eight, and nine, rubbing her back as I briefly tell her we’ll get paid out if she hits one of them.
Sloane rolls a five, getting a collective cheer from those who had put money on that number.
“Okay, your turn?” she asks me, looking hopeful.
“Nope, it’s still you,” Roman informs her, collecting his chips from the bet he had placed. “Just keep making us money!”
Her consecutive rolls do make money for everyone, to the point we’re all getting nervous about how long this will keep going. Then she finally hits four again, and the table goes wild.
“Okay, that’s not so bad,” she says, looking pleased with the pile of chips in front of us.
“It’s still your turn, babe,” I tell her, and the highly disappointed look on her face gets a laugh from everyone.
“Come on, Sloane,” Ford encourages her from across the table and I look up to see Grace tucked against his side, her eyes glued to the table directly in front of her. Surprise flows through me at how disengaged she is from everything happening around her.
Ford and I exchange a look, and I know we’ll be having a conversation at some point this weekend. Thinking back to Sloane’s earlier question, while knowing it’s none of my fucking business, I’m certain that if he thought enough of Grace to bring her along, he’ll take good care of her.
Sloane’s streak continues—much to her chagrin—and between our cheers and the energy our table emits, others crowd around us. Vying for a spot, until they realize that we’re all here together and have zero interest in outsiders joining us.
Forty minutes after Sloane first picks up the dice, she rolls a seven when the table’s on and practically sighs in relief.
“My arm hurts,” she moans, using her left hand to massage her right shoulder.
Roman and I share a look over her head, knowing she hasn’t realized that we’re all up about a couple thousand bucks each.
“What now?” she asks, looking around.
“Now I roll,” I tell her. Except, with the pressure off of Sloane, I start to explain the concept of the game to her.
As Sloane tries her hand at some of the extra bets, I chat with the Saint’s Outlaws beside me as the stickman patiently helps her place her chips. Honestly, I wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing, so just as I was about to pat myself on the back for a moderately successful turn with the dice, the table explodes.
My jaw drops when I realize that both Sloane and Ford were the big winners, pulling in five grand each. The way Roman jumped up and down, I thought one of his bets had hit.
“Shit, Ford, I couldn’t figure out your play with that,” Cowboy says, shaking his head in shock.
“The golden arm over there bet it, so I figured I’d follow her lead,” Ford responds, pointing at Sloane.
“You made a fire bet?” I ask her, more than a little surprised.
Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush as she’s forced to explain her reasoning. “There were a lot of blue chips in front of me, so I used those. Honestly, I was nervous and just kind of made panic bets.”
Her admission draws a round of laughter and promises to follow her lead in the future.
Personally, I’m exhausted and when I see Sloane trying to hide a yawn, I decide to call it a night once her chips are placed in front of her. Right after Roman gives her a bear hug, I step back, forcing the observers to move so the other guys get a chance to praise her for getting her craps cherry popped.
While I can tell that Sloane’s a bit overwhelmed by the attention, I can’t think of a better way for my friends to meet her. It’s obvious that they’re all intrigued by her, but it’s when we make it to Ford and Grace that she and I seem to switch roles.
After I clap Ford on the back, furiously trying to think of something to say, Sloane easily fills the silence.
“I don’t ever want to play craps again,” she conspiratorially says as she leans toward Ford and Grace. “Besides my arm cramping up, how could I ever top this? My brothers will never believe me as it is.”
“If you change your mind, let me know,” Ford smoothly replies, keeping one arm around Grace even as he indicates the tray of chips in front of him. “I wouldn’t mind another windfall like this.”
“It’s good to see you. Both of you,” I awkwardly offer, furiously trying to understand why Grace won’t meet anyone’s eyes. “Sloane worked all day, so I’m going to get her tucked in.”
“Hey, we’re talking about getting a nightcap out by the pool, if you want to join us?” Demo asks us.
“Can we do that tomorrow night?” Sloane immediately responds, before looking up at me. “Or at least me? I’m sorry, I worked all day and I’m barely keeping my eyes open.”
“We’re going to call it a night, also,” Ford responds, giving me a nod before we walk away.