I’ve been loved my whole life and I’ve been too stubborn and stupid to see it.
I burn a card, and deal the river. He doesn’t even look at it; he just pushes his cards in. He’s baiting me. If I ask to see his cards he might lose, and then he’ll walk away. I keep asking him to, but he’s just as stubborn as I am.
“I’m all in, River,” he tells me. “I’ve been all in since the moment I met you.”
The room is quiet. Even the other tables have turned around to watch us. I’m trying not to break. I’m trying to keep myself together, because that’s what I’m supposed to do. My daddy didn’t raise me to fold when I have such a good hand. My daddy raised me better than that.
But he also raised me to be loyal and to love unconditionally.
I look at my cards to give myself some time to think. What is there even to think about? The man who loves me, the man that I love, has laid everything out for me.
I’m afraid to be weak. I’m afraid to be foolish. I’m afraid to let someone hurt me so much that I’ll never be the same again.
I throw my cards onto the table. “You got me.”
The entire back room of the Golden Rose claps as Hutch makes his way around the table and scoops me up into his arms.
We cash out. At the end of it, we walk away with twenty grand. We leave together, emerging out of the men’s bathroom, which has a few local drunks pissing on themselves when they see us. I hold his hand tighter than ever because I don’t want to let him go. When we reach the parking lot, he pulls me into a kiss.
“Don’t do that to me again.”
“Let you win, or nearly walk out on you?”
He pulls back. “Let me win?”
I push him against his truck and kiss him over and over again.
I don’t hear the footsteps. I don’t hear the cock of the gun until it’s already pointed at me. Hutch pushes me away, and reaches for the gun at his hip, aiming it at the man in front of us. I don’t recognize his face until the motion-sensor lights in the parking lot light up his scars.
“Hey Riv,” Kiernan says. “Did you miss me?”
Chapter 40
I’ve always hated guns. I know that it’s Montana and that everyone here grows up with them. But so did I. I’ve seen way too many injuries and deaths. I start to shake, and my heart thunders against my ribs.
“Kiernan.” I say his name like I’ve seen a ghost.
“You know, I’ve been looking for you.” He moves a little further back, and aims his gun at me.
“If you so much as take another step,” Hutch says, “it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
Kiernan laughs. His cool, green eyes sparkle in the dark. His ash blond hair is longer than I remember, and swept across his face to cover the marks where I cut up his face. The scar on my thigh burns at the sight of him.
“Look at you, Riv. Gone and found yourself a John Wayne. You know, when I got a call from you, I wasn’t expecting to hear some guy’s voice. Then he told me where you were, and I thought—wow. Little River Thomas, trying to clean herself up. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“You’re a lot of things,” I tell him, standing between Hutch and Kiernan. “But you’re not a killer.”
“I’ve had to become a lot of things since your godfather got me banned from every table in the city. Do you know I have to go all the way to fucking Jersey to sit at a table?”
“Cry me a river,” I tell him.
He takes a step forward and raises the gun over my head to point it at Hutch. “I’ve always hated when you said that.”
I know he’s going to shoot. I can feel it like a deep freeze in my bones. I charge at him.
“River!”
I go for the gun, pushing his hands up over our heads. We fall to the ground. The gun shot rattles my insides, and I hear the gun fall on the ground. Kiernan grabs me around the throat, flips me over, and pins me to the ground.
“Drop it!” someone shouts.
Another gun hits the floor.
The barrel of a gun appears at Kiernan’s temple. “I said drop it!”
It’s a woman’s voice. High-pitched and shrill. Dolly?
Kiernan lets go of me and raises his hands over his head. A crowd has gathered around the parking lot. There are police sirens in the distance, and for a moment it feels like I’m back home. Hutch comes to my side and pulls me into a bone-crushing hug. I tap him to signal that I can’t breathe, and he releases me.
Kiernan is arrested, and a few moments later, Taylor is brought out in cuffs by the same mustached man that tried to buy me a drink at the bar. The undercover cops look so different here than they do back home.
“Are you okay?” Hutch asks. He brushes my hair back and holds my face in his hands. I pull him close to me and push myself up on my tiptoes so I can kiss him. It’s the adrenaline. It’s the dark of the night. It’s knowing that Hutch is alive and unhurt, and here for me.
It’s just us.
Dolly clears her throat behind us. “If you don’t mind, I need you to come down to the station and give a statement.”
We drive down behind them. The station here is bigger than the little jail cell I was in a few days ago. Taylor spits at me as a cop pushes him past us and into a cell. Under the florescent light, I can get a better look at Kiernan. It’s strange, looking at him after so much time has passed—I feel like I’m looking through a mirror leading into the past. I can’t believe the girl who let herself be with him is the same person I am now.
Dolly pulls the wig off her head.
“Holy shit,” I say.
“This thing is too hot to be comfortable,” she says in her high-pitched voice. Then she looks at me, and smiles. “For someone from the big city, you sure do shock easy.”
“I don’t know why people keep telling me that,” I say.
Hutch squeezes my hand to let me know that he’s still there. I haven’t forgotten.
“New York is pretty boring compared to Montana.”
One of the desk clerks laughs, and a look from Dolly—Detective Rosado—silences him.
“We’ve been following Taylor Patrick for a while,” she says. “There’s never been enough evidence to hold him, and he’s changed aliases several times in the past ten years. I have to say, River, when you sat down at that table I couldn’t have asked for a better stroke of luck.”
I smile. “My daddy used to say there’s no such thing as luck in poker.”
She shakes my hand, and after a paramedic takes a look at us we’re free to go. All of the previous charges against me are dropped. I remind them that Randy is also innocent. I decide to press charges against Kiernan. I might not have been able to get him arrested back home, but him pointing a gun at me changed that. Too bad that’s what it took.
A cop car drops us off at my motel. I gather my stuff and we walk to Hutch’s car from there. This town is so small that I can walk from the poker room to the precinct, then to my motel and back to the poker room, in the span of twenty minutes.
Hutch drives like we’re in the Indy 500, and I cling to his side the whole time. He decides to carry me into his house, and I let him.
“I told you,” he says.
“You told me a lot of things.”
“I told you I wasn’t done with you.”
It’s like that first night again. We’re fumbling in the dark of his house. Money falls out of our pockets and scatters all over the floor, but I’m too busy stripping the clothes off him.
This time I know just where the bedroom is. I press my hands on his chest and lead him through the door and onto the bed. He takes my hand and kisses me from my wrist to the inside of my elbow and back down again. I run my hands through his hair and pull.
“I need you, Hutch.”
He answers by ripping my shirt right down the middle, and before I can blink, my underwear is somewhere across the room. I gasp at his speed, his urgency, and his recklessness.
He pushes me down onto the bed and goes d
own on me. He licks me up and down, dragging circles around my clit that make me shout. For the first time since the first time, we don’t have to be quiet. I dig my nails into his shoulder to bring him back up. He comes willingly, sliding me up the bed. He pins my hands over my head and parts my legs with his knees.
“You didn’t actually let me win, did you?”
I answer with a mischievous smile, and a bite on his lower lip. I start to answer, but his dick finds its way inside of me. I wriggle against him. I shout his name. I tell him I love him, and I’m pretty sure his distant neighbors now know it, too.
When we’re finished, he rolls off me, panting and sweaty.
I find my way back into his arms. Try harder, I tell myself. I rest my hand on top of his chest, feel the way it rises and falls with every word and thundering heartbeat.
Try harder.
“I love you.”
He kisses me. “Are you going to show me your cards?”
“Isn’t it enough that I folded?”
“You never fold.”
I sink into the blissful feeling of his warmth. “For a long time, I had nothing left to lose. It was just money. Then suddenly, it was you. It’s like you said. I’ll be damned before I walk away from you again, Chris Hutcherson.”
Chapter 41
Twenty-eight days sober
Starting over is harder the third time around. Mostly because I’m afraid of change. But also because I’ve never lived with a boyfriend before.
After all the charges were dropped against Randy and me, Hutch’s house belonged to him again. We donated some money from our gambling night to HCRC. Helen and Ransom sent us a beautiful letter and apology. Though I don’t think I deserved it. The rest of the money went to my twenty-eight days at a rehab clinic in Seattle. It was the worst and best possible way to spend those days without Hutch, without anyone else.
In some ways I loved HCRC better. My Seattle counselor was nothing like Ransom. She wanted to talk too much about my mother, which is fine. Not everything can be fixed with pretty words, and I accept that. But the food was better at HCRC too, and the people were friendlier, and as much as I hate to admit it, I missed being in the outdoors. Nothing compares to Montana.
It’s strange how a place, and people, can change you. I know I’m still me at the core. But I feel different. More open. Free.
Though Helen offered Hutch a reference, he declined. He’s getting a degree in child psychology while tending bar in Zoo Town. We both have a lot of making up to do. I’m not sure what I want to do with my life, but I’m happy figuring it out with Hutch at my side.
But first, he needs to see where I come from.
• • •
We take a trip to New York. I love the way Hutch walks too slowly against Midtown traffic. I love his face when he sees a man walking around with a cat perched on his head. I love his smile when he meets Pepe and Tony, and the rest of my adopted family. We leave flowers at my dad’s grave, and I dig a hole in the ground and leave a poker chip from my last game.
“You don’t like it here,” I tell him, as we’re walking around Central Park.
I’ve got on more clothes than an Eskimo, but he’s okay in just his wool coat. “It’s different,” he says. “The snow’s black.”
“That’s because of car exhaust, and people peeing and walking on it all day.”
He rolls his eyes and pulls me against him. “It’s loud.”
“There are literally millions of people living here.”
“The food’s good.”
“I know!”
New York makes me happy, but Hutch makes me happier. I was afraid that my feelings for him were replacing my need to gamble, but I was wrong. My feelings for Hutch are just love. It’s a strange and funny thing to be really, truly in love for the first time. Sometimes I want to deny it. Other times I want to revel in the certainty of us.
I’ve never believed in luck or destiny, but walking into that bar and meeting Hutch was just that.
• • •
We pack up my storage unit, and he’s surprised by how much black clothing I own.
“When we get back to Montana, I’m going to get you a proper pair of riding boots. And a cowboy hat.”
“Cowgirl hat,” I correct him.
We make love, and kiss, and make love some more. It takes a week to pack and load things into the U-Haul attached to his truck. Leti and Sky come to see us off. You’d think I was moving to Australia, the way they cry.
When we get across the bridge and into New Jersey, I make him stop.
“Changing your mind?” he asks, holding my hand for moral support.
I watch the skyline a little longer. The buildings reach unapologetically to the sky, like the trees in Montana. The sky does seem a lot smaller over here. I tell myself that I’ll always be the little girl from Queens with the best poker face this side of the Hudson. I tell myself to stop running away from who I was, because there was nothing wrong with her. She was different, but still the same. She is me, and I am her. We can’t run from the past, the same way we can’t pretend to be someone we’re not. That’s how you remain broken.
I breathe in cold New York air as if it’s the last dregs of the last cigarette I’ll ever smoke. In a few days we’ll be back in Montana. I was wrong. It’s not the middle of nowhere. It’s exactly where I need to be.
“This is just a place.” I shake my head. He lowers himself for a kiss. “You’re my home.”
Acknowledgments
As always, a huge thanks to Adrienne Rosado, agent extraordinaire. To Sarah Younger, my equine instructor and wonderful friend.
To the excellent team at Diversion Books: Laura Duane, Mary Cummings, Sarah Masterson Hally, and Trent Hart. Thanks for giving my trio of misfit girls a great home.
Horse Creek Recovery is completely fictional, but the people who struggle with addiction are not. Thanks to everyone who was willing to speak to me about their recovery journeys.
An enormous thanks to Candice Montgomery and Erica Cameron for answering my emails on the technical aspects of recovery centers. To Elizabeth Briggs for being a thoughtful beta reader. To the badass ladies of NA Hideaway. Your stories and support mean the world to me. To Brodi and our French poker crew. You guys are Ace.
To my friends and family for being the world’s greatest cheerleaders.
For anyone who wants to do more research on rehab and recovery, some of the books I read were All Bets Are Off: Losers, Liars, and Recovery from Gambling Addiction by Arnie Wexler, and Sex, Drugs, Gambling & Chocolate: A Workbook for Overcoming Addictions by Dr. A. Thomas Horvath.
For everyone starting over, struggling, or just trying to get through this funny thing called life. And finally, for the angry, broken, lost girls. You are not alone.
More from Zoraida Córdova
ZORAIDA CÓRDOVA was born in Guayaquil, Ecuador and raised in Queens, NY. She studied English Literature at Hunter College and The University of Montana. She is the author of the Vicious Deep trilogy, Labyrinth Lost, and the On the Verge series. She lives in New York City. Send her a tweet @zlikeinzorro.
Luck on the Line
Despite her name, Lucky Pierce has always felt a little cursed. Refusing to settle for less or settle down, she changes jobs as often as she changes boyfriends. When her celebrity chef mother challenges her to finish something, Lucky agrees to help her launch Boston’s next hot restaurant, The Star. Even if it means working with the infuriating, egotistical, and undeniably sexy head chef.
James loves being known as Boston’s hottest bad boy in the kitchen, but if he wants to build a reputation as a serious chef, he has to make this restaurant work and keep his scandalous past out of the headlines. Getting involved with his boss’s spoiled, sharp-tongued daughter is definitely not on the menu.
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Sky Lopez thought she had it all—the perfect job, the perfect relationship, the perfect life…until she discovers her not-so-perfect boyfriend has been cheating on her. So when her uncle asks her to help plan his Hamptons wedding, Sky jumps at the chance, leaving all of her “perfect” future plans in the rearview mirror.
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So when Hayden—a sweet, sexy roofer—plummets through the ceiling and practically falls into her lap, she can’t help but think that maybe nice guys do just fall from the sky.
Soon Sky finds herself juggling crumbling wedding plans, the cheating ex who's trying to win her back, the cute plastic surgeon her family thinks is perfect for her, and the hot roofer she can't seem to get off her mind.
As the wedding date draws closer, Sky will need to choose one—or none—to keep herself from falling off the ledge, and maybe into love.
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Zoraida Cordova, Life on the Level: On the Verge - Book Three
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