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Logically, I knew that feeling couldn’t last. Joe still needed to be dealt with, regardless of whether I was here or not. I could only hope that when that time came, he’d be willing to hand over the evidence that could condemn me in exchange for his dirty little secrets.

I dragged myself into the bathroom and gulped down a few handfuls of water before brushing my teeth. It felt like the afternoon already, but I couldn’t be sure. Regardless, Ace hadn’t come to wake me up, so I took my time showering and getting dressed.

I had no intentions of unpacking my suitcases or making myself comfortable here, so I left everything as it was. The first outfit I could piece together was an ivory crochet tank with a plunging neckline and a burnt orange maxi skirt. I found my favorite gold gladiator sandals and paired them with matching bangles.

Gypsy women took pride in their appearance, and it was a value my mother instilled in me. She took extra care to make herself look beautiful every day, though it really wasn’t necessary. She was the most beautiful woman I ever knew, even if it was only for a little while. I couldn’t remember how old I was when she disappeared from our lives, but the memories I had lived on. This ritual was my way of feeling close to her. The hag stone she wrapped was the only possession of hers I had left, and I carried it with me always.

When I walked down the hall into the living area, I expected to find Ace. The house was quiet, but I assumed he was still lurking somewhere inside. Only, it wasn’t him I found sitting on the couch. My feet hit the brakes before my mind could process what I was seeing. The familiar face of a friend peered back up at me, and my initial reaction was panic. Had Ace taken her too?

“What are you doing here?” I blurted.

Trouble smiled back at me, but it wasn’t a smile I’d ever seen before. It was laced with guilt. “Ace asked me to come keep an eye on you. He was needed at the shop.”

She said the words so casually as if she didn’t just hit me with a fucking wrecking ball.

“You know him?” My entire body trembled as I forced the words from my lips.

She nodded. That was it. No other explanation. But did I really need one? The girl sitting on the sofa wasn’t who I thought I knew at all. The typical baggy jeans and ugly T-shirts she often wore were absent, and in their place was a pair of black shorts and a tank top. Even her hair was almost unrecognizable, pulled back into a smooth high ponytail to highlight the deception on her face.

“How do you know him?” I demanded, seeking out some other possible explanation.

“You’re looking for answers that will make this sting less.” Trouble adjusted the bracelet on her wrist. A bracelet I’d given her. “But if you really want me to say it—”

“I do.” My head throbbed with the agony of her duplicity, but I needed to hear the words from her mouth.

“Okay fine.” She blew out a breath and flopped back onto the couch cushion. “I’ve known Ace for a long time. Basically, since he joined the Beards of War. He hooked me up with a job as a barmaid at the clubhouse, and sometimes I do odd jobs for him.”

“But you’ve been in Vegas this whole time,” I argued.

“Yeah.” She snapped the gum in her mouth. “Because he asked me to keep an eye on you and report back to him. So that’s what I’ve been doing.”

I shook my head, unable to accept her explanation. “I saw you first. I was the one who found you. What you’re saying—”

“It was a trick,” Trouble answered, a sliver of regret coloring her voice. “I just did what I was told.”

I didn’t want to believe I’d been played so easily, but I could no longer deny it. Somehow, Ace knew I would want to help this broken mess of a girl. It was the sort of knowledge buried deep down in my soul, and it terrified me that he understood me this way. How could he possibly know that?

“You told him everything?” I choked out. “The casinos, the cons, and… oh, God.” My head dipped as it occurred to me. “You took those photos of me, didn’t you?”

She didn’t answer, and that was answer enough. I turned on my heel, desperate for space, when she called after me.

“Birdie, wait.”

I didn’t want to look at her. I wanted nothing else to do with her. But I couldn’t help it. For an entire year, I had invested myself into this girl I considered a friend. I worried about her constantly, showering her with gifts and checking in on her as often as I could. She’d found the sliver of vulnerability in my armor and tore at the seams until she’d ripped it wide open, spilling out secrets I shared with nobody. And now the stupid part of me that hurt inside wanted to hear what she had to say for herself.

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