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“Anyway. It got bad, and one night it all erupted.” Pain twists her pretty features. “Google the Tempest Cult Massacre if you want all the gory details.
“My big brother, Rio, was looking for me.” Her lower lip trembles. “He never stopped.” Around her finger, she twists copper strands of hair until the tip starts to turn purple, then releases it. “My brother died that night trying to save me.”
The haunted hush in her voice makes my chest ache.
My thoughts drift back to one of the first conversations I had with her. “You said Warren was your guardian?”
Her stare gets glassy. “He and Rio were best friends. Rio appointed him as my guardian when I went missing. He knew our father was out of his mind.”
“What happened to your father?”
“Prison.” Her eyes harden. “Hopefully, he rots.”
“What about the cult?”
“They’re still out there.” There’s fear in her voice. Anger too.
I swallow around a hot ember. “I’m so sorry, Hassie.”
“I lost my brother, but I gained some too.” She makes a face. “Even if Warren is a pain in my ass.” She laughs. “He’s bossy, and I don’t listen to him, which pisses him off, but makes me obscenely happy.”
“Those cowboys can handle it.”
“Yeah, they can.” She puffs out a breath, tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Everyone in this town has a secret. You’ll figure it out if you stick around long enough.”
My main thoughts have been so occupied with survival that I haven’t even considered staying long-term. But what if? My hand goes to my locket. What if, Lucy Lou?
I jump as Hassie slams her hands on the thighs of her jeans and shoves up. “Now I need a very large, very amnesia-inducing drink.”
Panic kicks through my veins as, through the front window of the store, I spy a police cruiser slowly trolling Main Street.
Fuck.
What if they’re here for me? What if they—
“Shit. I’m out.” At the bar, Hassie frowns and tips the whiskey bottle. Turning toward me, she stretches out her hand and wiggles her fingers. Seeing what she wants, I rise and take it.
The sensation of her steady hand in mine calms my nerves. Cools the paranoia that’s been bubbling inside of me ever since Belle’s texts.
“C’mon.” Hassie pulls me over to a brick wall with a bright purple neon sign that says KISS A COWBOY. “We’re getting drunk tonight.”
With that, she kicks the toe of her boot on a small notch near the floorboard. Like magic, the wall unhinges.
I gasp. “Holy shit.”
Hassie smiles and pulls me through the thin crack. Instantly, we’re enveloped in darkness, clammy air. “What is this?” I ask.
“A secret passage. Town’s full of them. Copper tunnels. Mining town. Bootleggers.” She lowers her voice. “Monsters.”
The throb of music pulsates the walls.
“Where does it go?”
Hassie smiles in the dark. “You’ll see.”
21 Cole
Poker with my brothers is as much a tradition as it is a religion.
