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  An hour later, it was dark and I was seething, my thoughts still churning. How the hell could Silas be so irresponsible with his life? He was putting himself in danger and then trying to act responsible with me, as if we were going to get a white picket house and be together forever. I regretted all of the thoughts that had been going through my head lately, the ones about how I could be with Silas, how we could settle down and live a normal fucking life.

  Fantasies about how I could give up grifting and just be with him.

  Then he did something that demonstrated he was simply impulsive, a Neanderthal at heart. And he’d recoiled when I said I had money, as if it had been tainted or something.

  When I heard a knock on the door, I stormed over and pulled it open, ready to lay into Silas. “What, did you forget your key?”

  But it wasn’t Silas standing at the door. It was Iver. “Trouble in paradise?” he asked.

  I glared at him. “You tracked me down?”

  “We need you, darling,” he said. “And you missed the meet in New York City. I wasn’t about to let you slip into the ether without knowing if you were alive or if Coker had gotten to you.”

  “Coker’s an even bigger moron than we thought,” I said, momentarily forgetting about how angry I was with Silas. “He doesn’t realize anything yet.”

  Iver shook his head and sighed. “Sometimes it really is like taking candy from a baby, isn’t it?”

  “How did you find me here?” I asked.

  Iver raised his eyebrows. “Do you even need to ask? Emir knows all.”

  I exhaled heavily. “Of course he does,” I said.

  “So?” Iver asked. “Are you staying here in the middle of nowhere, or are you going to rejoin us in the land of the living?”

  I stood there, paralyzed by indecision. I had a team - friends - waiting for me in New York. And someone who meant something to me here. Someone who claimed to be sure of what he wanted, but acted in ways totally opposite of that.

  What the hell was I going to do?

  ***

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  SILAS

  When I returned to the apartment, it was dark and the lights were out. I’d gone out running, five miles, and I was sticky with sweat. I flicked on the light in the hall, and called out for Tempest, even though I knew before I walked in the door that she was gone. Her bike wasn’t parked in its spot in the driveway, and I’d have tried to convince myself that she was just out, taking her own time, except that her backpack and clothes weren’t where they’d been in my room.

  I stood in the bedroom, drenched with sweat, exhausted and spent, surveying my surroundings. It was like she’d never been here.

  I felt numb. This whole fucking day, from start to finish, had been like a giant ball of fucked-up-ness, ending with our stupid argument.

  I was being an idiot. That whole time I was out running, I was thinking, I was being an idiot. That fight I’d done for Abel was supposed to be a one-time thing, just because it was Abel- and it had gotten me out of my debt, made sure Big Harry didn’t break my fucking legs. It was the last money I’d owed. I’d gotten arrogant, stupid, thinking I would just go make another quick ten grand doing one more fight.

  I wanted something to show Tempest that I had something. That I wasn’t some losing bet. I wanted her to take a chance on us.

  I didn’t want to come to her with nothing and ask her to be with me. And nothing was exactly what I had.

  I had that damn ring, the stupid one I’d bought when I was seventeen, still sitting in my dresser. I’d thought it was so romantic back then, getting her this ring made with a stone named after her – the tempest stone.

  She was used to nice things, things like she had in Vegas, and I had nothing like that. Even the damn ring I was going to give her was as cheap as I was.

  I was here, alone, thinking about all of these things.

  But mostly, I was pissed off that she didn’t say goodbye.

  Again.

  ***

  TEMPEST

  “Why the hell did you insist we have dinner?” I asked Iver. I was irritated with Silas for his recklessness, irritated with myself for fighting with him, and irritated with Iver for showing up here. I could barely contain my rage, and now I was sitting here across from Iver, at this small restaurant on the outskirts of town.

  “Humor me. I drove here from the airport into the middle of Nowheresville, Colorado to rescue you from this town. I haven’t had lunch, and now it’s well past dinner and I’m starving,” Iver said, looking up at the waitress who arrived. “I don’t suppose you have a wine list, do you, darling?”

  She put her hand on her hip, raised her eyebrows and gave Iver a look that could have peeled paint off a wall. “I don’t have a wine list, sweet cheeks,” she said.

  Iver looked at me, his eyebrows raised. “What did I say?” he asked.

  “I think it was the darling that pushed you over the edge,” I said.

  He picked up his menu. “Have I lost all my charm?” he asked. “Is this place some kind of alternate reality where I have no effect on women?”

  “Say it’s not so,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “I have two tickets out of Denver,” he said. “To New York.”

  “Do we have a mark?”

  “Oscar has some possibilities, but nothing that’s especially struck our fancy,” he said. “But…You don’t get your ticket until I hear about the man who’s the reason for you missing the meet.”

  I shook my head. “Iver, I don’t want to talk about it,” I said wearily. “It’s - I don’t even know what it is. It’s done, I think. I’m not sure.”

  Iver leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me everything,” he said. “I’m not leaving.”

  So I told him the entire story- the history of Silas and me from the beginning to end. The whole time, Iver ate steak and I nibbled at the edge of my plate, my stomach churning. They did serve wine, and Iver ordered a glass of the house red wine, grimacing and declaring it unpalatable as soon as it hit his lips.

  When I finished, Iver leaned back in his chair and looked at me carefully. “Well, it’s settled.”

  “What’s settled?” I felt exhausted, the toll of the entire emotional day finally getting to me.

  “What should be done.” Iver wiped the sides of his mouth with his napkin.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, feeling cranky. “I’m not taking love advice from the man who never spends more than one night with a woman.”

  “I wasn’t talking about your love life,” he said. “I was talking about the town. I’ve decided what needs to be done about that.”

  “No, no, no,” I said, holding up my hand. “You’re not bringing Oscar and Emir here.”

  “Of course I am, darling,” he said, leaning in close, his voice low. “And we’ll just have to grift the town.”

  I shook my head. “Been there, done that,” I said. “Besides, it’s not the town that’s the problem.”

  Iver waved his hand. “I know that,” he said. “But grifting the town sounds considerably more dramatic than grifting the sheriff and the mayor and the mining company. Stop trying to deny me my fun.”

  “Perfect idea,” I said, sipping my coffee. “Especially since you’ve been seen in public with me now.”

  Iver shrugged. “I’m behind the scenes this time, then,” he said. “Or you are. Either one. Details to be worked out later.”

  “I’m not on board with it, Iver.”

  “Well, then make up with your boyfriend and get on board,” Iver said. “I don’t find the concept of monogamy to be that appealing, but you’re clearly smitten with him.”

  “I’m not smitten with him,” I protested weakly. But I was. I knew I was.

  “Do I personally think you should retire from the game? No,” Iver said.

  “I didn’t say I was retiring,” I said. “Don’t even breathe that word.”

  But Iver held up his hand again.