Page 118 of No Headlines Please

His eyes narrowed. "It might not matter to me, but it matters to her sister." His voice rose. "She deserves an answer."

Fucker.

Maybe I was being unfair, but the way he talked, this wasn't about Delaney at all. What he really wanted was to ride back to Mackinac Island on a white fucking horse and be the hero for Tessa Sinclair.

But what about Delaney?

The way it sounded, she was barely an afterthought.

Screw that.

My jaw flexed. "And you want to be the one to give it to her."

"Bullshit. We're not even talking."

I gave him a good, long look. "But you want to."

He glanced toward the windows. "I never said that."

"You don't have to. I can read it all over your face." I let out a scoff. "Good thing we're not playing poker. I'd be cleaning you out."

It was ironic, really. All of this had started months ago, when Ryder had persuaded me to fix a poker game in order to send his buddy Griff to Mackinac Island for a month-long reset.

An intervention – that's what Ryder had called it.

He claimed we'd be saving the guy's sanity. And yeah, over a few whiskeys, he'd made a compelling case. So I'd made it happen.

A couple of weeks later, the three of us had sat in a private poker room, surrounded by stacks of chips, plenty of Macallan, and enough banter to keep Griff off his game.

The whole time, Ryder kept pouring Griff drinks while I sat there with a deck of marked cards, wondering at what point a friendly poker game had become a sanctioned kidnapping.

Afterward, Ryder and I had kept none of Griff's money. Instead, we'd set it aside and sent Griff on his way.

Ryder had been smug as hell.

In hindsight, maybe he'd earned the right. These days, Griff was obnoxiously happy while the two of us were standing here, almost at each other's throats.

Was it poetic justice?

Hell if I knew.

And now, Ryder was glaring again. "Fuck poker. Tell me where she is."

"Sorry, that wasn't part of the deal." I wasn't sorry – at least not for that. Even so, part of me felt bad for making his obviously shitty day just a little shittier.

But then he said, "You really are an asshole sometimes, you know that?"

Hey, I wasn't the only one.

"I do," I said. "Which is why you called me in the first place." I smiled. "So hey, you're welcome."

And with that, I pushed off the credenza and headed for the door, leaving Ryder to figure it out on his own.

Or not.

It wasn't my problem.

Not anymore.