Betting Bad

by Cathryn Fox

  “Coffee is free here, and we have water and soda in the fridge. All provided, so help yourself.” She drops a pod into the Keurig machine, and goes to the fridge for milk.

  “Black for me,” I say.

  When the machine gurgles to a stop, she removes the pod and puts a fresh one in for herself. I take a sip, and savor the flavor.

  After her coffee is done, we head back upstairs and she shows me around the library before we make our way to her desk. She grabs a chair and places it beside hers and I sit.

  “Any questions?” she asks.

  “No, pretty much the same set-up as it was before.”

  “This isn’t exciting work, but I’m organizing the annual Light The Way Benefit. We have a silent and live auction to raise money for youth programs.” She passes me a sheet. “We’re reaching out to companies to see if they want to donate, or put an ad in the program book. Here is the list we reach out to. I’ll take the top half if you want to take the bottom.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, she swallows, like she said something wrong…or something sexual.

  I look over the list, grab a pen and draw a line to separate the top half from the bottom. “Do we phone or email?” I ask.

  “There are different contacts for different companies,” she explains. “Also, if you know of any companies that might like to donate, we can add to the list and reach out.”

  “Okay,” I say. “I’ll start with the ones who want to be called first.”

  I reach for the phone and make my way through the list. The morning passes quickly, and I have to say, while I’m not in to marketing, I was able to secure quite a few donations and ads. By the time lunch rolls around, I stretch and stand, my stomach taking that moment to grumble.

  “Is lunch an hour?”

  “Yes,” Cassie says as she stands with me. “Did you pack? If not, I can share.”

  “That’s really nice of you, but I’m just going to grab something. I have to stop in to see my brother. Maybe you know him. He was a few grades behind me. Lucas Barrett.”

  She nods. “I remember Lucas. He works at Mr. Johnson’s service bay, right?”

  “Yeah.” I make my way to the locker, and she follows along. “If you ever need any work done on your car, he’s your guy.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  I reach for my bag, shoulder it, and grab my helmet, then take the three flights down the stairs. I step outside and the early morning clouds have parted to give way to a warm fall day. I walk to my bike and an uneasy feeling moves over me. It’s a feeling I know well, and never ignored in prison. I walk slowly, and casually glance over my shoulder and scan the street. People mill about, but a punk-ass kid in baggy clothes and a ball cap leaning against the side of a store building, head down texting, catches my eye. I watch him as I climb on my bike, and he only looks up when I ease into traffic.

  Fuck man, it better not be one of the Phantoms watching me, wanting to get me away from Deacon and into their club—or worse. I make my way to my brother’s service bay and slow when I see one of the Phantoms peel out of the lot. What the fuck? Once he disappears, I park my bike just as one of the service bay doors open.

  An SUV backs out, and I take in the stick figures on the back, that of a man, woman, son, daughter and two dogs. I swallow down the thickness in my throat. That’s the kind of family Sara and I talked about. Right down to the two dogs. Is this the universe’s way of mocking me? Well fuck you.

  I make my way inside, to find my baby brother at the counter, scribbling something onto a piece of paper. His eyes go wide when he sees me.

  “What’s up, bro?” he asks.

  I glare at him. “What was a Phantom doing here?”

  He flinches, and the move doesn’t go unnoticed by me. “Just looking to get some bike work done.”

  “You work on their bikes?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Jesus, fuck, Lucas.”

  “Look, this isn’t my business. I work for Mr. Johnson. I do what I’m told to do.”

  I pace, and my boots scrape on the floor. I exhale slowly and walk back up to my brother, meeting his gaze straight on. “I don’t like this.”

  “It’s always been this way, Ty. Nothing I can do about it.”

  “Just stay the fuck away from them outside of here, got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it.” He looks past my shoulders, then turns his attention to the cash. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

  “Lunch break. Wanted to check in with you to see if you have any leads on a good car for the winter.”

  “Yeah, sure. I know a guy who’s selling his old Ford Focus. Lots of miles, but it’s a good car.” He reaches for the phone. “Let me call him.”

  I turn, and walk toward the window. From the other side of the street I see movement. I shade the sun from my eyes, and every nerve I have goes on high alert.

  Why the fuck is that punk-ass kid following me?

  10

  Sara

  With the nights getting darker earlier, dusk falls over the city as I hop off the bus, UIC’s campus rising up in the distance before me. Students mill about as I zip up my coat, and hurry my steps, the cooler air wrapping around me and bringing on a chill. I was late getting away from work this afternoon, and have been rushing around ever since. Class doesn’t start until seven, but Ty said he would be at the library, going over books for braille before he had to tutor Tanner and wanted to see me before class. No way did I want to miss seeing him.

  I’m not sure if he chose the UIC campus to tutor because it was convenient, or if it was because I’d be in class tonight. Either way, I can’t deny the bubble of excitement building inside me at the thought of seeing him again. Sneaking around is ridiculous, I know. I’m a grown adult, but I have a lot at stake. My family would disown me, and I work in a bank, for God’s sake. I can’t imagine my boss would be thrilled to find out I’ve fallen into bed with a convicted gunrunner. And then there’s Tyler. He’s here trying to get his life back in order by working and helping my dad out on the field. I know he loves the game, and is trying to right some wrongs. I commend him for that, and I don’t want him to disappoint Dad again. Being back on the field has been good for both of them. I can already see Tyler’s idea breathing new life into my father. He’s smiling more, seems more alive on the field.

  I peel off my heavy jacket as I step in through the front doors of the library and the familiar smells of old books fall over me. I go through security, and make my way toward the rows and rows of books shelved at the back. It’s quiet, and a few people are studying at the tables, or punching away on their laptops. The rush whipping through my blood, knowing I’m seconds away from seeing Tyler again, is insane and my stomach squeezes, the hamburger I scarfed down before running to catch the bus currently doing flip flops. As excitement wells, I press my hand over my belly to quiet the rush, but then another thought darkens my mood. Tonight I need to talk to Caleb, break this thing off between us before it gets started.

  I pass rows and rows of shelving and when I spot Tyler, plunked down on the floor, cross-legged, looking so damn boyish—the teen I knew from my youth—as he flips through a book, my heart stalls. I fight the urge to rush to him, throw my arms around him, and hold him to me, forever. As I stare at him, lost in the book he’s reading, my pulse jumps in my throat, and warning bells jingle in the back of my brain.

  Is what I’m doing here smart?

  No, it’s not, but I’m at a loss, such a goddamn heartbreaking loss I’m going against everything my head is telling me to do and letting my stupid emotions rule again. I stand at the end of the aisle, and grip the side of the shelving cabinet to keep myself upright. The man before me is all muscle and power, a hard body carved from stone, with fists that fought for survival, yet the way he touched me the other night, softly, gently, like I was a delicate flower that could be broken, had me coming apart. I’d toughened up considerably after he left, but maybe when it comes to Ty I’ll always be that delica
te flower who wilts without his love and affection.

  As though sensing my presence, his head lifts and a heady rush of bliss burns through my blood when a smile splits his lips—lips that kissed and explored every part of my body so thoroughly. Heat moves through me and no doubt my cheeks have turned a light shade of pink.

  “Hey,” he says quietly, and makes a move to stand, but I shake my head to stop him, just wanting to see him sit there a little longer. I like the way it makes me feel, like we’re kids again, stealing kisses in the campus library before rushing off to our next class.

  He gives me a perplexed frown and looks past my shoulders. “Everything okay?”

  Of course not.

  “Everything is fine,” I say and walk toward him. I sit down, and mimic his position. “I was just standing there, wondering what you were thinking,” I say, reminding him of the game we used to play. The one I foolishly tried to play with Caleb, like he could somehow step into Tyler’s shoes. Our eyes meet, lock, and I reach out and touch his face. My fingers rasp over the day’s growth, and he leans into my hand.

  “I missed you,” he says, his voice deep, tortured.

  “I missed you, too.”

  “But that wasn’t what I was thinking.”

  He gives a devilish grin, and reaches for the hem of my sweater, rubs it through his fingers, and the backs of his knuckles brush my flesh. I shiver, and pull in a ragged breath.

  “No, then what were you thinking?”

  “I’d rather show you.”

  “I’d rather like that,” I say.

  His eyes go back to mine, and the smile falls from his face. “You didn’t get into any trouble with your dad this morning, did you?”

  I shake my head. “No. He might not trust you, but I think he trusts me to make the right decisions.” God, he’s so wrong about that.

  He shakes his head and exhales loudly. “Sara, I’m sorry, I’d never—”

  “This isn’t on you, Tyler. I’m the one who invited you into my bed. I’m the one who told you I needed this, for however long it takes,” I say and lean toward him to seal his apology with a kiss. Our lips touch, graze softly, then he angles his head and deepens it. He parts my lips, taking his time with me, even though time isn’t something we have, and his tongue sweeps inside. My entire body softens, as I taste mint and coffee on his tongue. I kiss him back, the familiarity in what we’re doing wrapping around me like a blanket, cocooning me in warmth and comfort. I wrap my hands around his neck and he pulls at me until I’m on his lap, my legs slide around his waist. His hands splay over my back, and I absorb his heat, let it curl through me and push back the cold in my bones.

  He’s wearing a big smile when we break apart, but then he glances behind me and he goes stiff, like he’s suddenly spooked.

  “What?” I ask, and glance over my shoulder, expecting my father to be standing over us.

  “I think someone was watching us.”

  I scan the library. I only see students milling about, but what we’re doing is risky and inappropriate. “Then we’d better get out of here.”

  He taps my ass. “You go. I’m tutoring Tanner,” he pauses to glance at this watch. “In about fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay. I’d better get to class.” I stand, and he picks my backpack up and puts it over my shoulders, then he hands me my coat. The warmth and heat between us is so powerful my chest is heavy, the air almost hard to breathe. It’s a wonder everyone in the library can’t feel it. Then again, maybe they can.

  “When can I see you again?” he asks quietly, touching a strand of my hair. His fingers brush my neck and I quiver.

  “This weekend?” I pose it as a question, because I honestly have no idea what his plans are and don’t want to sound as anxious as I feel. Truthfully I’d like to see him tonight, but he has early morning football practice and I won’t be home until late. Of course, I can’t forget I have to stay after class to talk to Caleb.

  “Okay. You go first,” he says, then adjusts his pants. “I need a minute.” I chuckle slightly as I walk away from him, but putting distance between us is as hard today as it was all those years ago. I make my way to the front of the library when I see Tanner rushing in, his gaze going left and right, like he’s worried he missed Tyler. I’m about to tell him he didn’t, but then think better of it. No way do I want this to get back to my father.

  I glance over my shoulder to catch one last glimpse of the man I should be staying away from, and freeze when I see him talking to some guy with baggy clothes and a ball cap pulled down low on his head to conceal his identity. He’s leaning in to Tyler conspiratorially, and as I take in the vision, warning bells ring loudly in my brain. I suck in air, and grip my coat tighter against the stabbing pain in my chest as old hurts and betrayals squeeze the air from my lungs. The room darkens around me, and I get a sinking feeling deep in my core, snaking into the most cut-up and carved out pieces of my heart.

  Tyler’s eyes snap to mine, like he feels me watching. His eyes are hard, dark—a stranger to me. The Tyler from prison. He doesn’t make a move toward me, to tell me it’s not what I think, and there is nothing in his body language to suggest this encounter is innocent, coincidental. I quickly tear my gaze away and hurry through the doors. I try to process what I saw as I practically run down the hall to class. The kid isn’t wearing a cut on his jacket, identifying himself as a Phantom, but if he’s not, and he’s in Phantom territory, he might be concealing his colors to protect himself. But everything about him says he’s a gangbanger. Which begs the question, what is he doing here, and what business does he have with Tyler?

  I can barely catch my breath by the time I round the corner and take my usual seat at the front of the class. How I’m supposed to concentrate on advanced finance is beyond me. Derek, a man who works at a different branch of our bank, sits beside me. I’ve gotten to know him over the last few months, and he likes to tease that we’re competitors going for the same job. But we’re at different branches, on opposite sides of the city, so I don’t really get that. I plaster on a smile and brush my hair from my face, hoping he can’t see my anxiety.

  “How did you make out on last week’s assignment?” he asks. He shakes his head. “It was the toughest one yet.”

  “It was hard,” I say, but dammit I sound as breathless as I feel. “Took me hours to finish it.”

  He angles his head and I pray he doesn’t ask me if I’m okay. I might just burst into tears. Before he can speak, the professor walks in, a few students filing in behind him. Grateful for the interruption, I face the front of the class and open my laptop as the door shuts and class begins. The prof begins to ask about last week’s assignment and I pinch my eyes shut, forcing myself to concentrate. But can’t seem to do it. Goddammit, I need to get my mind on school and off Tyler and his extracurricular activities if I want this promotion. I can’t let him derail me again. I just can’t. There is too much at stake.

  The next couple of hours drag on, and I take notes, hoping they’ll make sense to me later. I glance at my phone in my bag, and consider texting Ty. Do I come right out and ask who that guy was? Do I even have a right to? I asked for a sexual affair to get him out of my system. What he does on his own time doesn’t concern me, right?

  Then why do I feel like it does?

  Class finally ends and I power down my laptop. I grab my phone, toy with it in my hand when it beeps. I nearly jump out of my chair. The text is from Caleb, asking me to stop by his classroom. Once again, an uneasy feeling closes in on me. I’m not one to hurt anyone’s feelings, but it’s best to end this now, before he gets the wrong idea.

  Derek is saying something to me, as I pack up. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  He angles his head again. “Are you okay? You seemed a little distracted tonight.”

  “Perfectly fine,” I say. I’m not about to spill my life to this guy, even though he seems genuinely nice. “Just have a lot to do.” I give him a big smile and hurry from the classroom. I p
ass students leaving Caleb’s class as I make my way down the hall. My steps slow as I approach the door. He has his back to me and is doing something at his desk. I knock softly, and he turns.

  “Glad you could come.” He looks past me. “Would you mind shutting the door?”

  At first I’m a bit reluctant, I’d rather just say what I have to say, and get out of there. If I’m lucky, I can still catch the bus, and not have to wait a half hour in the cold and dark for the next one, but I do as he asks because I am breaking things off with him, and I owe him that much. Plus, the last thing I want is for any of his students or fellow professors to overhear our conversation. Professors aren’t supposed to date students, right? Then again, I’m not his student anymore. Still I wouldn’t want him to get in any kind of trouble or to be dragged in to it myself. I do everything I can to avoid trouble, or draw negative attention to myself.

  “I haven’t heard from you lately.” He straightens to his full height, and there is a strange sort of tension about him.

  I take a step toward him. “Sorry about that. I’ve been so busy,” I say. “Professors, right?” I add to lighten the mood. As I approach, the hairs on the back of my neck tingle. This is the same Caleb I’ve known for a long time now, but there is something very different about him tonight.

  “Busy, huh?”

  I begin to inch backward, flinching at the hardness in his tone as I take a look over my shoulder to see where I’m going. “Yeah. Work, school. I’m sure you know—”

  “And busy with your gangbanger.” Our gazes collide when I turn back to him, and he glares at me. “You can’t forget your gangbanger.”

  My limbs freeze, his words like a sucker punch to the gut. “What?” I ask, pinned beneath his scrutiny, his judgment, a look I’m so damn familiar with. When Tyler was taken away, all eyes turned to me. Was I too, a criminal? I heard the hateful words, the allegations.

  “Come on, Sara.” He smiles but it holds no humor. “I saw you two at the club Saturday night. I saw you leave with him. Why did you lie to me and tell me there was nothing between you?”