Page 11 of Ly to Me (Devils of Alliston Springs #1)

She blinked at me like I’d grown two heads. Either she had no clue I was here because of the two-faced guy she was on the lap of, or she knew and was pissed off about it. It was hard to tell with her facial features being naturally pinched.

When her smile shifted, I knew she had no clue who I was. Really, only Carver did. “There’s a woman in town who has been doin’ it for years, ain’t that right, babe?”

He nodded, though I doubted he knew what she’d said, his focus more on the cards than us.

“Can I get her number? The dye she used on you looks fabulous.”

Her face dropped, like it was some secret her hair had been dyed that shade of blonde like mine was. “I—”

Chips clattered, cutting off what’s-her-face as the last round of bets went through. Grant tossed his cards in the center. “I fold, assholes.”

Jamie rubbed the side of his nose, Hayes shuffled in his seat, and Carver remained perfectly still, reminding me of the way he looked when he shoved his fingers in my mouth. My guess? Carver had a winning hand.

Hayes turned the cards over in the center, and Jamie went right back to rubbing his nose. Interesting. Hayes tossed in a few more chips, checking his cards and the ones on the table. Jamie glanced at Carver before tossing a few more chips in as well, then Carver followed.

No more than a minute later, another card was turned, no bets placed, then the final card. All showed their hands, the only one of value being Carver’s. The blunt’s cherry burned close to his lips as he leaned forward and dragged the chips to his side.

Grant chuckled. “See? What’d I tell you? He always wins.”

“Not true!” the other woman shrieked. “Jamie here beat my daddy in a game, and no one beats him.”

“Alright, sugar. No need to get all defensive for me.”

Carver took one last drag of his blunt, then put it out on his thumb without flinching. “Let’s see who’s the best, then.”

I followed Carver’s glare—right at Jamie. The table fell silent for a few beats before Grant chuckled. “Hayes and I are out, aren’t we?”

Carver jerked his chin toward his roommate. “What do you say, Jamie? High stakes?”

Jamie’s brow cocked, his arm wrapping around the blonde’s waist almost protectively. “How high?”

Carver leaned forward, scratching his chin. “How ’bout this: You win, I give you a chance to buy the facility from me—at cost.”

“What?” The woman sitting on Jamie’s lap slackened her jaw. Grant and Hayes exchanged a look, one of them murmuring something about a great game coming up. I didn’t know which, because my focus was on the man to my left—

Cold. Calculated. Like a predator stalking his prey, which wasn’t me, for once.

“I don’t want the facility.” Jamie’s tone turned serious. “I want to buy this house.” His finger swirled around the space. “You’d be allowed to stay, of course, for a monthly rental fee.”

“That right?” Carver’s agitation was so thick, Jamie would be a fool not to pick up on it.

“Yep. Take it that’s what you want, then? The facility, all to yourself?”

“Hmm.” Carver leaned back in his chair, his knee sliding against mine again. The moment I tried to jerk it away, his booted foot snaked around my ankle. That simmering, anger-filled heat was back faster than I could take in my next breath. “It’s a start.”

“That’s it? Just like that?”

Carver drummed his fingers on the table. “Tell you what—I’ll be nice and give you thirty days to find somewhere else to live.”

“You’re serious?” Jamie’s face twisted with anger before he broke into an odd fit of laughter. Carver unlocked our legs and leaned back in the chair again, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited. “We’ve been partners for years.”

“Does that mean you plan on losing?”

“No.”

Carver shrugged. “So, what’s the problem, then?”

Jamie’s face turned redder than a beet. The woman on his lap nudged him with her elbow. “To clarify—I win, I get to buy the house in thirty days and keep working at the facility, keeping my half. You win, you get to buy Oak Heart Farms in thirty days and keep your house.”

Oak Heart Farms? Jamie hadn’t told me the name before.

Carver inclined his head. “Sounds like a deal.”

Jamie seethed through his teeth. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

Grant let out a low whistle. “You guys sure about this? Those are some pretty high stakes.”

“He’s fucking high and thinks he can win. Let him try,” Jamie replied before pushing the woman off him. She let out a faint sound of disapproval, then stormed off down the hallway that led to his room.

Carver smirked, and right as the cards were being dealt, his hand slid over my thigh, digging his fingers into my flesh. My teeth ground together, the urge to slap him hard across his smug face stronger than it had ever been.

No, that’s a lie. I’d dreamed of slapping the shit out of him for years.

“Let’s add one more thing,” Carver said, that fire in his touch leaving my skin as his hands folded on top of the table.

“Sure.” Jamie spread his arms. “What else could you want from me?”

“Her.” Carver jerked his head toward me. Jamie burst into another fit of laughter, tears rimming his glossy eyes.

I scowled and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not something that can be won through a fucking game.”

“Then join. Play for yourself, and if you win, our bets all become invalid, and you get to stay in the guest room for a week.” Carver flashed his irritatingly perfect teeth at Jamie. “Sound good to you, partner?”

“Deal,” I answered before he could.

Jamie seemed to deflate, matching the complete flip of his personality. “You’re kidding, right? She can’t even play!”

I glared at him. “I’m a fast learner. Watch me.”

Carver chuckled beside me, and as Hayes dealt the cards, the tension in the room grew.

“You sure you can do this?” Grant angled his lips my way, but I ignored him. I’d show them all. Lady Luck was a woman, and she was on my damn side, not theirs.

Hayes finished laying the cards out in the center. “No sense in betting any chips, right?”

“Do you see Lyra holding any fuckin’ chips?” Jamie asked, checking his cards.

“What I see is a scared little man,” I snapped back.

“Calls ’em like she sees ’em.” My brows furrowed at the defensive remark. Car carried on as he checked his cards, then leaned back in his seat, becoming the picture of amity, while his friend across the table was anything but.

I peeked at my cards again, making Car flash those blue eyes my way. Shit. The smile he let spread as he watched Hayes turn over each card was eerie. It made my skin crawl, yet heat in the worst of ways.

My only hope of winning was if they’d both have, at most, a single pair. It was that, or I’d be fucked. Judging by the nose scratch, Jamie had jack shit. I glanced at Carver once more and held back on that desire to go alley cat on his face. He’d grown better at lying. I had to give him that.

As the cards flipped, my stomach sank further and further.

The last card turned, and Jamie threw his cards down.

Carver turned his over, and Jamie’s eyes grew wide.

“This was all rigged!” he shouted as I laid my pointless cards out, my bones turning hollow.

“You kept the ace from the last round, didn’t you? ”

Carver spread his legs wide once more, his gaze set on Jamie like he could murder him with a single look. A look that bounced between the hallway leading to Jamie’s room and Jamie. “I’m not a cheat.”

Grant stood, ready to hold Jamie back if need be. I tried pushing my chair back, but Carver’s boot locked onto the wooden leg.

“A deal is a deal, little Ly.” His smooth voice chilled those lifeless bones of mine.

My attention darted to my bag. Boots stomped, and Grant and Hayes’ demands for Jamie to calm the hell down couldn’t compete with my tunneling vision on that white bag and the door a few feet to the left of it. If I could just—

“Don’t. Do. It.”

I glared. “Let me go, Car. You don’t want me.”

His jaw worked. “I told you—don’t fucking call me that.

You lost those privileges when you—” Another muscle popped along his jaw as he reached down for the bag.

“Take it and go to my room.” The rest of the men were oblivious to us as they stormed through the front door, leaving us with muddled shouts and a cacophony of cicadas that dulled none of the buzzing in my ears.

“Car, please, I—”

He lunged forward, gripping my cheeks and pulling me within an inch of his lips. “Let me make this clear—I am not him. The boy you pretended to love died ten years ago in the hole you left him to rot.” His face morphed with rage right before he released me. “Now, go.”

“I don’t have to listen to you. I could just leave.”

His hand balled into a fist along the tabletop. “You leave, and I’ll track you down and bring you right back. A deal is a deal.”

I hesitated a mere two seconds before snatching the bag from his hand.

Because he was right—the man I saw before me was nothing like the boy I’d known all those years ago.

Then again, the boy I knew had been a lie.

Whoever he was now was probably an evolution of the same beast I, unfortunately, had let through my heavily guarded walls.

“Thought you had given up betting.” The bag swung as I stood, my fingers trembling with rage. “It appears we’re both full of disappointments lately.”

His low growl froze my feet inches from the front door. “I’m serious, Lyra. There’s nowhere in this town you can hide, and no lengths I wouldn’t go through to drag your ass right back here.”

My lips parted, the doorknob turning slick with sweat from my palms. “You told me I could leave. You said I had a choice.”

“That option is no longer on the table, and now you’re two seconds away from being tossed over my shoulder and hauled to my bedroom. Or, you can choose to walk there yourself with the ounce of dignity you have left.”