Chapter 11

ELEVEN

HAVOC

What do you mean, you got a job?

I glare at the text my stepfather sent.

First he wants me gone, now he’s upset that I’m working my way up to it?

Fuck, I just need to wait it out until my first paycheck and I can finally move out. Sorry for my mother, but I’m not going to deal with my stepfather’s bullshit any longer.

Provided I can actually find a place to live, and that my spotty background doesn’t scare off landlords.

“Sir?” a timid voice asks, and I realize the vet clerk has been trying to get my attention for a while.

I force myself to smile at her. “Yeah, sorry. Is Nacho ready?”

She points at the cat carrier on the counter. “He was a sweet boy. Very affectionate, and didn’t even fight when we had to give him the meds.”

I peer into the cat carrier, where Nacho is napping while wearing one of those cones to prevent the animals from licking themselves. I have to admit, he’s pretty cute.

I can’t believe my first job of the day was to take the cat to the vet. I’d dropped him off for the neutering, and after a few hours, they’d called to tell me he was ready to be taken home.

The woman gives me a bag with pain medication and instructions on how to care for Nacho in the meantime. I don’t correct her that this isn’t even my cat.

At least it’s an easy enough job, and I don’t hate the assignment. This is miles better than any of my military rotations, where it was mostly training for the sake of training or sitting around guarding something nobody cared about.

My army buddies and I used to complain about that all the time. Of course, they all ditched me the moment things got bad. Nobody wanted to risk getting tainted by association.

Fuck, this isn’t the right time to be ruminating about the past. I should be glad that I finally, somehow, got a paying gig.

I put Nacho into my beat-up old sedan and drive us back to the casino. He wakes up somewhere along the way and meows pitifully, like the ride is the worst thing to have ever happened to him.

Or maybe he’s complaining about his missing balls. I don’t know.

The casino has an employee parking section, and that definitely beats paying for parking. I grab the carrier and make my way to the top floor of the hotel.

The guards at the door give me strange looks, and I hoist the cat carrier.

“Delivery,” I say. “Is Seven there?”

One of the guys—Mark, I think—nods. “Yeah. He came back a while ago, complaining that the casino is boring.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Boring? Seriously?”

Mark laughs. “I think he lost at the games.”

He steps aside so I can go in, and I close the door behind me.

“Seven? I brought Nacho home!” I call out.

Seven emerges from “his” room, wearing jeans and a Roi de Pique t-shirt. “How’d he do?” he asks, coming to take the carrier from me. Nacho meows, and Seven starts cooing at him like he’s undergone some ordeal.

Well, I guess he has. I wouldn’t want to be castrated either.

The other cat, Miss K, comes out from behind the couch and rubs against my legs. I reach down to stroke her soft fur.

“The vet praised him. He was a very agreeable kitty.” I place the meds and instructions on the kitchen counter. “I hear you sucked at gambling today?”

Seven looks up from where he’s crouched down on the floor, petting Nacho through the carrier door, and scowls. “I didn’t suck,” he informs me. “I just… got bored. That’s all. I don’t know how people do that for hours and hours. Maybe if you’d been with me…”

He opens the door, and Nacho stumbles out on unsteady legs. He’s hilariously uncoordinated, which means he must still be full of the good drugs.

“You take breaks. And it’s not so bad, if you’re winning.” I get down on the floor next to him and stroke Nacho’s back. “Caleb sent me the tickets to tonight’s sexy circus show. We’ve got about two hours to kill, if you want to grab dinner first?”

Man, that makes it sound like a real date. It’s just fucking, and Seven is clearly already “taken”... but if Caleb doesn’t care, then why should I?

Seven looks up at me, brows arching. “Of course I want dinner first. I expect to be wined and dined like it’s a proper ‘date’ and not just something you won because you don’t have stamina,” he taunts.

“Excuse you. I have stamina,” I say, shoving him lightly. “I came after Vortex. I don’t care what you told Caleb.”

He smirks. “I couldn’t tell, what with the condom and all.”

I groan. “It would have been hotter without it.” I imagine his wrecked hole leaking my cum—and I imagine Caleb fucking him after, filling him even more. I wouldn’t say I’ve got a body fluid fetish, but I can’t deny it’s an arousing thought.

Seven sobers slightly, looking down as he scratches Nacho behind the ears. “Caleb got me tested and put on PrEP,” he says. “Maybe you should too.”

That sounds like an expensive waste of time… but it’s not a bad idea. I’ve been more than reckless with myself, and I don’t really need another trip to a doctor because of a preventable rash-or-worse. It had been bad enough when I’d had to admit it to the army doc.

Stop fucking the local women , he’d said, and I hadn’t corrected him that it was the local men I’d been getting with.

Of course, getting discharged the way I had meant I wasn’t eligible for any of the VA benefits, so I’ve been avoiding everything doctor-related.

“Once the whole health insurance thing clears,” I say, waving my hand dismissively. “If you want a proper date, maybe that means this one ends without sex. I’ll be a total gentleman.”

Seven’s head snaps up, and he stares at me, ignoring Nacho as the cat tries to head-butt his leg even with the cone. “You would not blue ball me like that. Not if you were a gentleman.”

I laugh and bump my shoulder against his. “Like you almost blue-balled me the other day?”

“Hey, to be fair,” he says. “That was not my fault. Vortex got overzealous.”

“I don’t know. You definitely knew you weren’t supposed to fuck around,” I tease.

Miss K climbs over my lap and over Seven, completely ignoring our personal space, to approach Nacho and sniff at him. Their noses touch, but after a few seconds, Miss K backs away and arches her back, hissing.

Nacho does not seem to notice the hostility at all, and instead attempts to lick his probably-aching-balls. The cone means he fails spectacularly.

“No, Caleb said I couldn’t fuck around with the staff ,” Seven insists again. “You weren’t staff. So you didn’t count.”

I laugh and shake my head. I should be annoyed, but Seven looks adorable with that pout. I ruffle his head and stand up. “Okay. So, dinner? The Thai bar isn’t too bad.”

Seven lifts Nacho and nods. “Sure. I’ll put Nacho away so Miss K doesn’t bully him.” He nuzzles Nacho’s head as best he can with the cone in the way.

I pick Miss K up to prevent her from following Seven into his room. She squirms but keeps her claws to herself.

I didn’t think I was a cat person, but I have to admit, I’m liking both of these animals better than the poorly trained dog my stepfather had a few years ago.

“You won’t jump on me just for coming through the door, right, girl?” I ask her, stroking her head.

She meows and gives me a sour look, but she seems to have resting bitch face, so I don’t know if she’s actually upset.

Seven takes a few minutes, but when he comes out, he’s dressed in a fresh button-down shirt and a nicer pair of pants. He cleans up well, I’ll give him that much, but it doesn’t explain why I have the urge to grab him and kiss him hard.

I set Miss K down, and she scampers off.

“So, Thai?” Seven asks, hooking his arm around mine. “Not the Mexican restaurant?”

I snort. “What, because I’m Mexican?” Seven gives me a sheepish look, and I shake my head. “Nah. I do like Mexican food, but if I’m going to eat over-priced tacos, I’d rather do that at Palacio Diamante. Cliche as it is, they do have the better Mexican restaurant.”

Seven makes a face. “Well, you’d have to do that alone anyway. I’m not allowed to leave the Roi de Pique.”

The guards don’t say anything as we leave the penthouse. I put one hand on the small of Seven’s back and usher him into the elevator.

Once the door closes, I say, “That’s bullshit.”

He glances at me and shrugs. “It’s ‘for my own protection,’” he says, mimicking Caleb. He sighs, though, and looks away. “I don’t know. It’s not… It’s complicated.”

“I should offer to help you escape, but…” I sigh. “I kind of need a job.”

He sneers at me. “Yeah, thanks. You could help someone who’s potentially being trafficked, or you could have a job,” he mocks.

I freeze and stare at him. “Are you being trafficked?”

“Wouldn’t that have been a great question to ask before you fucked me while your new boss was watching?” he retorts.

I swallow hard, and my fists clench. “Seven. Are you in actual trouble? Because I…” Fuck. I can feel anger rushing into me, and the urge to punch Caleb’s smarmy face rises. Never mind the job, never mind moving out.

Seven puts a hand on my chest, ignoring the fact that the elevator door has opened. “I’m not in danger from Caleb,” he says.

There’s something about the way he says “from Caleb” that still has my hackles up, but my fingers relax.

His smile is strange, not one I’m used to seeing from him. “You just never know, do you?” He pats my cheek. “C’mon. Let’s get food. I’m hungry.”

I follow him out, still trying to collect my thoughts. I realize it’s rich, coming from somebody who willingly signed up to work with somebody who is probably in the mob, but I don’t actually want to be part of this bullshit.

I grab Seven’s wrist and squeeze tighter. “You can trust me, okay? I mean, I’m just some fucking stranger, but if your life is in actual danger?—”

“It’s not,” Seven interjects. “It was a dumb joke. Now come on, I need a drink.”

I eye him dubiously but let go, then say, “Are you even old enough to drink?” I try to make it a joke, but suddenly I’m unsure about that , too.

My discomfort makes him smirk, but he says, “Yeah. You’ll have to get something for me, though. I don’t have my ID on me.”

“Oh my god, you’re going to get me fired on my first day,” I complain, but I put my arm around his shoulder.

I didn’t think I’d ever want to do PDAs like this. When I was in the military, I stayed firmly in the closet.

Hell, my mother doesn’t even know I’m gay. I’d tell her, but I definitely don’t want to deal with my stepfather’s homophobic bullshit. He’s bad enough as it is.

But with Seven, it just feels natural.

We get seated at a small table, and when I discover that Seven doesn’t know any more about Thai food than he had about Japanese food, I order our appetizers and drinks for us. Unfortunately, no matter how much we cajole, the waitress refuses to allow Seven to order his own beer without ID.

“I guess we need to find you a fake ID,” I muse.

Again, that amused look. “Who says I need one?”

I motion toward the bar. “You don’t want to buy drinks?”

He shrugs. “I’ll just get Caleb to vouch for me. I mean, you have to be 21 to even be in the casino at all, so I don’t know why she’s got her panties in a twist.”

I observe him carefully, and I can’t tell if he actually is over twenty-one. He acts like it, but my perception might also be skewed from my army days. I’d enlisted at 18, and I remember what my peers in basic training were like.

“So how old are you really?” I ask. “I’m twenty-six.”

“Twenty-one,” he says with a sweet smile. He must see the skepticism in my face, because he adds, “Last month. So I’m barely legal for this place, but I am.”

I decide not to press. If him being here causes legal trouble for Caleb, I guess that’s his problem.

“Yeah? So where are you from? You don’t have a local accent,” I say, leaning forward.

The smile freezes on his face, his body tensing before he seems to get a hold of himself again. I can see the way he forces himself to relax, though; the question caught him off guard, and he didn’t have an answer ready. “Nowhere, anymore,” he finally says, right when I’m about to take pity on him and change the subject. “I’ve been traveling for a while.”

I make a non-committal sound. “Ah. Well, I’m local. I was born here, grew up here, and outside of my stint in the military, I’ve never been anywhere else.” I drum my fingers against the table. “Maybe I shoulda picked a different city. Calamity can be kind of a dump if you aren’t working for one of the casinos or hotels.”

“But now you are, so it’s fine,” Seven says. “You get to stay here and work for Caleb Spade at one of the biggest casinos in Calamity. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

The waitress arrives with our order, and I wait until she’s gone to answer.

“Yeah. We’ll see how long that lasts.” I take one of the satay chicken skewers and bite off a chunk. “Maybe you need a job too, if you’re bored all day.”

Seven reaches for my drink and glares at me. “I do not need a job.” He takes a sip of the Thai beer. He makes a face as he sets it down, picking up his own glass of soda and drinking from it instead. “This tastes like every other beer. Just like all wine tastes the same.”

I shake my head and take my beer back, giving it a taste. It’s definitely higher quality than the piss I’d had while enlisted—hell, better than the piss my stepfather drinks. “It’s good,” I say after a gulp. “Much richer flavor.”

Seven gives me a look like he doesn’t believe me, then goes for the food. “So, Mr. Local. Where would you take me, if we weren’t stuck in the Roi de Pique?”

I give him a once over. “You like hiking? Because there’s some national parks in the area that are gorgeous. Provided you like the desert landscape, of course.”

He shudders. “Nope, not a fan of walking around the desert, thanks.” His brows furrow, and he takes his time before adding, “Too fucking hot.”

“Not if you go at a better time of year.” I lean back and consider. “Okay, no hiking. And casinos are out too, so… I guess I could drive you to the nearby rest stop for another bathroom quickie. There’s a romantic glory hole there and everything.”

He laughs, and I have to admit he looks fucking gorgeous with the smile. “Deal.”

The conversation meanders as we eat, more amicable now that we aren’t talking directly about ourselves.

“How did you lose that badly at blackjack, though?” I ask after the second beer. “I taught you how to play better!”

“I was trying!” Seven complains. “I mean, first of all, you can’t expect me to remember what you taught me when I was getting groped at the same time. And second of all…”

I wait, and when he doesn’t continue, I prompt, “Second of all?”

Seven makes a frustrated sound. “I was so sure I was doing the math properly, so I kept hitting, but then I’d go over. But I knew I could do it, so I had to try again. At some point I have to win.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Uh, you don’t. That’s not how probabilities work.”

He gives me a sour look. “It’s how casino probabilities work, right? You keep going, and eventually the house will let you win. Or does that just apply to slot machines?”

“No, for slot machines, you just have to pick the right machine.” When Seven gives me a confused look, I sigh. “Some machines have worse odds because they’re near the card tables, and they don’t want the noise of the machine to bother the players. But anyway, the house is not going to let you win at blackjack just to make you feel better.”

“Well, it should,” Seven says. “It’s not like it matters, though. I’m just spending Caleb’s money. What do I care if I win or lose?”

“Caleb might care,” I point out. Then I grin. “Which means you should spend as much of it as you can.”

He grins back at me. “I like the way you think.” He scoots over in the booth so he’s right next to me, then rests his head on my shoulder. “Hey. I know you can’t actually play since you’re an employee or whatever, but you can come with me, can’t you? Keep me company?”

I wrap my arm around his shoulders and roll my eyes. “You’re trying to get me fired before I even get a single paycheck.” On a whim, I kiss him chastely, then immediately blush. I’m glad my face doesn’t get as red as a white guy’s would, but I avert my gaze despite myself. “Uh, let’s get to that show, though. Wouldn’t want to waste those tickets.”

“Yeah. The tickets you earned,” Seven says sweetly. “But you get me all evening, so…”

“Sure. I’ll watch you lose at blackjack after the show is over.” I ruffle his hair and stand up. “Now we’re off to the sexy circus.”

“It had better be good,” Seven says, batting his eyelashes at me. “Otherwise, I’ll just have to keep myself entertained some other way.”

Somehow, I don’t get the feeling he’d mind.