Chapter 9 Lucas
Lucas
Greta, all drill-sergeant energy, wouldn’t stop talking. I waited for her to take a breath so I could escape, but none came.
She went on about football and plays and discounts for Lakemont students—in particular, football players.
I was listening but also searching for Mazzie.
But in the sea of heads, I couldn’t find her.
Nor did I see Ryker anywhere. He and I had split up to find Mazzie, which was the reason we were at the casino.
Bailey had called to ask if I could pick up Mazzie when her shift ended, and I’d jumped at the chance.
Greta finally took a breath. Thank fuck. I figured if spending a few more minutes with Greta meant Mazzie was off the hook, then I would suck it up and listen to Greta’s ramblings.
I sandwiched her hand between both of mine. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I can’t accept your offers. It’s against school policy.” Policy or not, I wouldn’t be gambling in the first place.
On top of that, this seedy joint was making me jittery. After all, a shady place like this had contributed to my father’s addiction.
Her beady eyes popped out of her head. “My daughter goes to Lakemont and all the football games. She texted me that you lost today.”
I didn’t have anything to say about our performance against the Red River Mavericks.
I’d caught every pass Ryker had thrown, I hadn’t fumbled, and I’d scored two touchdowns.
I’d taken Ryker’s remarks about my previous lackluster performance to heart and kept my mind in the game, not giving the power to my father or to any of the problems I had.
Today had been one of those games where the Mavericks were the better team.
I spotted Ryker across the room. “Greta, it was great talking. Again, don’t blame Mazzie for dropping her tray.
It was totally my fault.” I would lie forever if it meant that stunning woman who was seeping into my soul one minute at a time wouldn’t lose her job.
I’d learned she had to support her family to make ends meet.
Greta smiled warmly, the drill-sergeant edges softening. “You’re a good man.”
“By the way, Greta, when does Mazzie’s shift end? I’m here to give her a ride home.”
She checked her watch. “In an hour.” Then a commotion to her left had her beelining it in that direction.
Ryker sauntered up to me. “Who was that?”
“I’ll tell you later. Why do you look like something bad happened?” I couldn’t fathom about what.
Ryker scratched his neck. “Your old man is playing blackjack.”
“Come again?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard him over the din and the argument going on nearby.
“Your dad. He’s playing blackjack,” Ryker said. “You called it.”
Motherfucker. I didn’t want to be right. Part of me had hoped he changed, that he was a different and a better man after the time he’d done in prison. I wasn’t surprised, but I hadn’t expected him to gamble so soon.
“He didn’t change,” I mumbled as a buzzing filled my ears, or maybe it was the drone of the slot machines around us. “Where is he?”
“We’re not here for trouble.”
I was itching to ram my fists into something. I’d taken out some of my aggression on the field, but I still had more to expel.
He grabbed my arm. “Lucas, look at me.”
I did as he commanded.
“Your old man made his choice. You will never change that.”
I snarled, not at him but the situation. “I get it. But I want him to see me. I want him to know that he wasn’t fooling me.”
My mom would be devastated, but she needed to know he was gambling again. Give him a chance? No fucking way.
But when Ryker and I reached the blackjack table where Ryker had seen Kurtis, he wasn’t there.
“He was just here,” Ryker assured me as he stabbed a finger at one of the half-moon tables where gamblers were concentrating on their cards.
Kurtis became a distant memory when I spotted two people in a heated argument and did a double take.
Josh and Mazzie stood beneath the restroom sign up ahead, facing off like a contentious married couple. Mazzie poked her finger in his chest. Josh in turn grabbed her arm and yanked her closer to him. I was about to intervene then froze.
Kurtis came out of the restroom, rearing back as he assessed Josh and Mazzie.
“There’s your father, and is that Mazzie? Who’s the cowboy?” Ryker asked.
“Her ex.”
I stood rooted to the spot about twenty feet away, captivated by the unfolding scene.
Kurtis raised his hand with commanding authority, signaling Josh to release Mazzie. But Josh, the arrogant bastard, swung viscously at Kurtis. My father ducked effortlessly as though prison had clearly kept his reflexes sharp. Josh’s punch sailed over Kurtis’s head, causing Josh to stumble forward.
Adrenaline surged through me as I sprang into action, fearing for Mazzie’s safety.
Yet I should’ve anticipated the little minx’s spunky spirit that I’d already witnessed tonight.
As Josh regained his balance, Mazzie drove her knee straight up into his junk.
The cowboy collapsed to his knees, holding his balls.
I could almost feel his pain. Getting sacked in the balls blinded a man.
As we approached, Kurtis was staring at Mazzie, awestruck by her actions.
I couldn’t blame him. She was a force of nature—a midnight storm that rolled in and took command of everything in her wake.
She sure as hell was taking hold of my damn heart.
What stunned me even more was Kurtis’s unexpected act of chivalry.
His actions didn’t overshadow his addiction, but maybe it was a start in the right direction.
“You bitch,” Josh squeaked out, his face blazing with fury.
Mazzie leaned over slightly, shoulders hunched, small hands fisted at her sides. “I told you we were done over a year ago. What don’t you understand about women not being your property? If you ever come near me again, I’ll cut off your dick.” Her voice was icy and unyielding.
I was grinning with pride at how she was handling herself.
“Lucas,” my dad said, obvious surprise washing over him as he smoothed a hand over his thinning brown hair.
Mazzie whipped her head in my direction, strands of her onyx-black hair falling forward. Whatever she was about to say was cut off by Josh pushing to his feet as he grabbed his Stetson that had fallen off his head.
But it was my turn to add my two cents. Ryker tried to hold me back, but I shrugged out of his hold and got in Josh’s face. “If you ever touch Mazzie again, I’ll be the one slicing off your dick. You feel me?”
Security converged on the scene.
“Is there a problem here?” The shorter of the two guards asked.
“Everything is fine,” Kurtis assured the guard as he tried to pull me away from Josh. Tried being the operative word. “Son, ease up. You have a lot at stake.”
Josh’s nostrils flared. “That’s right, wide receiver. Listen to Daddy. It would be a shame if you broke an arm or a leg.”
“Are you threatening me?” I spat.
Ryker grabbed me that time, and a guard hovered near Josh.
“We’re cool,” Ryker said to the linebacker-type guard. “We don’t want trouble.”
“I’ll have your job, Mazzie,” Josh threw out over me then set his hat on his head, stomping away.
Kurtis addressed the guards. “Tell Mr. Blackwood it won’t happen again.”
Interesting that my father knew the owner. Then again, Kurtis probably gambled at this very casino before he’d been incarcerated.
The guard nodded at Kurtis then strode off.
I turned in an attempt to make sure Mazzie was okay, but she was gone.
“I think she went into the ladies’ room,” Kurtis said. “Lucas, you shouldn’t be in a casino.”
I ground my back teeth together. “What did I tell you? Bring Mom and me into another gambling situation, and you’ll never become part of the family. But here you are. You haven’t changed.”
“It’s not as easy as you think,” he fired back.
Ryker was standing at the ready to make sure I didn’t lash out.
“You know something, Kurtis?” I shook my head. “You want to end up in prison again? That’s your decision. Stay away from Mom and me.” I’d lost enough time worrying about Kurtis’s release from prison. No more. “Oh, and thank you for helping Mazzie.” I owed him at least that.
I regarded Ryker. “I’m going to talk to Mazzie.”
My best friend gave me a nod. “I’ll be outside the front entrance. I need to call Haven.”
I rolled back my shoulders, knocked on the ladies’ room door, and pushed it in. The bathroom smelled of industrial disinfectant and harsh air freshener that stung my nostrils.
“Mazzie, are you in here?”
“Go away, Lucas,” she said. “You can’t be in here anyway.”
Don’t give a fuck.
I found her hunched over the sink, splashing water on her face.
A toilet flushed before an elderly woman came out of a stall. She took one look at me in the mirror then at Mazzie but didn’t say a word as she quickly washed her hands and scurried out.
“Are you okay?” I leaned against the sink next to hers, itching to pull her into my arms and tell her I had her back.
But her body language was giving off warning signals to stay away.
“The man who helped me, is he your father?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s nice.” She wouldn’t look at me.
At least someone thought Kurtis Allen was a decent man.
“He was recently released from prison.” No sense in keeping that a secret. “He has a gambling addiction.”
She shuddered and looked at me through the mirror, not shocked at my admission. “Are you here to gamble with him?” A hint of revulsion sat beneath her shaky tone.
I wasn’t in the restroom to spill my truths. I needed to know she was okay. Then I noticed redness around her bicep area.
Fury blazed through me like wildfire. “Midnight,” I said softly, “Josh hurt you.” I fisted my hands at my sides.
“Stop calling me that,” she gritted out, jaw tight.
“Your arm is red.”
“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed a wad of paper towels from the dispenser and patted her face dry. “Why are you here?”
In that moment, the feisty woman who’d kneed a guy in the balls seemed fragile.
“Bailey asked me to give you a ride home.”
“Of course she did.”
The door squeaked open.
“Mazzie,” a woman shouted.
She cringed. “Greta is about to fire me.”
Sure enough, Greta stalked in and crossed her arms over her crisp white shirt. “Lucas, what are you doing in here?”
“Go,” Mazzie said to me. “You can’t save me again.”
Maybe not, but I wasn’t going to give up. I assessed Greta for a long beat, tempted to try to save Mazzie’s job. But as angry as Greta was, I didn’t want to make matters worse for Mazzie.
So I pushed a hand roughly through my hair, my pulse staccato. “Mazzie, I’ll be waiting for you at the front entrance.”
She might protest, but she was riding home with me, even if I had to throw the stubborn woman over my shoulder and carry her to my truck. Because the thought of letting her walk away again was like getting hit by a hard tackle, wind knocked out of me with no time to recover.