Page 46 of Four Cards Exposed

James rubbed his hands. “When will it be?”

Moore shrugged. “We’ll know when we know. But soon. So, do whatever you want with the girl, but make sure you get your beauty sleep every night.”

“Sure thing, boss,” James replied.

He had to make contact with Lorraine.

* * *

Susan

At her apartment, Susan changed into a clean thong and shorts. She tried not to think of what it’d felt like when James had taken her clothes off last night—how hot it’d been, how sexy he’d made her feel.

She’d had a chance to think on her walk home. Despite her initial anger, there was no reason to believe everything between them had been faked. Susan had seen the emotion in his eyes, and knew it’d been real.

What was much more likely was that James had gotten carried away. All the adrenaline from the fight—and, why not, the undeniable attraction that had been brewing between them for months—everything had conspired to bring them together.

But there was no future for them.

She knew that, and he knew that.

So it was actually a good thing that they’d decided to be pragmatic about it.

If only it didn’t hurt so much.

“We’re leaving,” Pia said.

Shit.

“I’m not ready yet. I need a few more minutes. I’ll meet you at the bar.”

“Sure thing, sweetie, just don’t take too long. The place isn’t going to clean itself!”

Susan dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a tube top—the same kind of clothing the other women wore during the day. A pair of old tennis shoes completed the outfit. Her dark hair went up in a bun on top of her head. If Moore didn’t like it, he could go fuck himself. She wasn’t about to get dolled up to clean a bathroom full of vomit, or worse.

She walked downstairs and opened the door to their building, staring out at the cul-de-sac beyond. It was mostly empty, except for a few kids playing in the middle of the street, and a lone figure standing against her building wall, one foot up on the wall as if he were holding up the building. In his hand, a hand-rolled cigarette burned.

“That’s disgusting,” she said. “So. What happened? Did Moore give you permission to fuck me?” she asked.

She saw his expression freeze at her crude words. Finally, he nodded, tossing the cigarette to the ground and pulverizing it with his boot.

“He knows I want you.”

“And?”

“And it’s a good excuse for us to stay close to each other.”

“I’m not the one who’s getting pummeled every other night.”

James ignored that jab.

“He also warned me that your prison friend might not be happy.”

Susan sighed. “Guerrero’s been protective of me, but he hasn’t tried anything,” she said uncertainly. She’d misread a man before, and it’d ended up almost costing her and Jessy their lives. “I’m late. I need to get to the bar,” she said.

“I’ll walk you,” James said. The smell of the cigarette still clung faintly to him, though it didn’t quite mask the clean, manly scent that was just James.

To distract herself, Susan turned her attention to the children playing on the street. There was a fenced-off area in the center of the cul-de-sac which must once have been a playground—it stood there, sad and decrepit, ignored by the children who played on the street just a few feet away. She could just about make out the rusted corpse of a slide, like an elephant hidden in the tall grass. Next to the slide, a set of broken monkey-bars that looked like they hadn’t been touched in years.