Gambling for Ashleigh - E M Hayes Read online

  I shake my head.

  He smiles. Despite everything, he smiles. "Good." He gets to his feet and holds out a hand to help me up. "Then come with me."

  Callum

  She goes with me.

  Despite not knowing me outside of our time at the blackjack table and me practically acting like a stalker to her, she agrees to come with me. Even though she has no idea where the hell it is. Near-death experiences can really put someone into a more agreeable position. Taking her car is out of the question. Instead, we take mine, a beat-up old Jeep, and drive the ninety-odd miles to Vanderpool, where Samantha's family had a cabin in the woods. No one, not even Gary with all of his connections, would have a clue that this place exists, as it's in her family's name.

  Which means that it's one of the few things I haven't sullied in my life.

  God, I feel like such a perverted asshole, waiting for Ashleigh for twelve hours today. My training and doing stakeouts on the force prepared me for long, extended stints of keeping surveillance on a person. It's just never been on my own without the blessing of the SAPD.

  I spent a long time at the Starbucks, keeping an eye on the building where Ashleigh worked, and then moved to another coffee shop. I thought about going in after her, but I figured it was best to wait. Besides, watching from afar would give me the chance to see if Gary or his minions were going to try anything.

  And my stakeout was well-warranted, as Ashleigh is clearly in danger. Just, maybe I should have kept an eye on her car, too.

  Not that I could have done anything about it. And right now, Ashleigh is safe. I'm going to keep her that way, too.

  And now that I've seen the lengths to which Gary is willing to go to for a chance get at Ashleigh, I'm not going to go to the cops about this. He's too close to everything. And if he finds out, that could be disastrous for both Ashleigh and me.

  "They must have rigged the bomb to go off when I unlocked the car," Ashleigh says, almost as if she's in a daze. She looks down at her hand like she expects to set off another bomb with it and makes a fist. "That...that would have killed me."

  "Gary O'Shea isn't someone you want to fuck around with," I say through gritted teeth. I keep my eyes on the road ahead of me. Making sure that the headlights stay in their lane. It's almost completely dark outside now, and I hope that Samantha's parents still have the key to the cabin under the flowerpot.

  Otherwise, I’m going to have to break the window and unlock the door. I’m sure that won’t help Ashleigh trust me any further.

  I want to ask her what happened and what she knows about Gary, but I can tell that she's too freaked out to really do anything. She has this thousand-yard stare that is unsettled and scared, and I just want to wrap her up in my arms and tell her that everything is going to be all right. Except I can't do that. Because until Gary is behind bars, I can't really assure her of anything.

  "You said that Gary saw me on the security footage," Ashleigh says slowly. "And that he has access to everything at the casino. Does he own it or something?"

  I smirk. "He’s a loan shark. No affiliation with Windy Wood Casino. He just makes them a lot of money off the backs of poor unfortunate souls who borrow money from him to feed their addiction. He's what you would consider a staple there at the casino."

  "But if he's doing criminal stuff..." Ashleigh starts.

  I shake my head. "So long as he doesn't make too big of a splash or he doesn't get caught by the police, the casino will look the other way. He has friends there who will do what he asks because they know he can get them what they need."

  "So that's how he has access to security footage?"

  "Yes."

  "And they'll just let him do that?"

  "Yes."

  She frowns and is silent for a moment and chews on her thumbnail. "Do you think they have security footage out back? Like at the emergency exits?"

  I glance over at her. "Is that where the crime happened?"

  She doesn't say anything and keeps her eyes straight ahead. Damn, I need to get her to open up to me more.

  "If he knows that there's a camera there," I say at length, "then I'm sure he would have erased any evidence. It wouldn’t be the first time he did something like that."

  Her jaw works as she bites at her fingernail.

  "Hey." I reach out and take her hand away from her face, and she sits back, as if in shock, like she didn't know she was biting her fingernails. "We'll stop him before he does anything else."

  She licks her full, luscious lips. She then peers at me curiously. "How do you know Gary so well?"

  Despite myself, I give a bitter chuckle. "I'm one of those unfortunate souls. Unfortunately."

  "I thought you said you were a professional gambler."

  I bark out a laugh. "I am. And if I had any boss but myself, I would have fired my ass a long time ago." I hold my hands up in a gesture of defeat before putting them back on the steering wheel. "But unfortunately, I’m stuck with myself."

  "But you play blackjack, and you—"

  "I have a gambling problem," I tell her gently, and she looks like she's shocked. I sigh and settle back into my seat. "I started gambling when... during a tough time in my life. It was the only thing that I could do to escape from my horrible everyday life. And at first, it was good for me. But then, I started going too far and spending more than what I had in the bank..."

  "Is that tough time a part of the reason why you left the San Antonio Police Department?" she asks sharply.

  It takes a lot out of me to nod, but facing my own shortcomings is supposed to help me on my quest to get better. "It was rough for a bit."

  I hate the pitying look she gives me. It's the same as what everyone gave me after Samantha died. A mixture of sympathy and relief that they're not going through the same bullshit as me. I have been at the receiving end of that look way too many times in my life.

  My stomach clenches at the thought. She doesn't know what happened to Samantha. She can't know how much this hurts.

  "I came to Gary and borrowed some money," I continued through a dry, raspy throat. "I thought I was on the verge of a big win—I had my Texas Hold 'Em figured out, and I could make it back in a single night—but then I lost it all."

  "And you still owe him?"

  "Yeah."

  "How much?"

  I shrug as though I don't know the exact number. I do. "Over sixty thousand."

  "Shit," Ashleigh whispers under her breath. "And..." She struggles for words. "Has he gone after you? Like...in a bad way?

  "Not yet," I say. "I do have a lifeline to some money, even if I don't want to use it." Samantha would be rolling over in her grave if she knew that I spent some of the money from her life insurance on paying back that asshole. All because I have a problem that I need to get sorted quickly.

  Ashleigh considers her next question before asking it, as she sexily worries her bottom lip. "And how much would it take for him to want to kill someone over the money they owe?"

  It takes me a moment to process her question. "Did you see him kill someone?"

  She's silent again, and I look at her. Finally, she nods as a silent tear runs down her face. "I couldn't find my way out of the casino. And, I went out of the staff-only exit, thinking that if I were outside, I could at least get to my car. But then I saw Gary and this other guy and he...he..."

  I take her hand in mine, meaning to be comforting. Instead, our fingers entwining with each other gives me another reason to pause, because my body reacts to the contact between us. "I'm so sorry."

  She sniffles and leans her head back. "I've never seen a dead person before. Certainly never saw anyone killed. And he shot him in the head."

  My stomach roils at the very thought of that. Being on the force, I've seen a few shootouts and a few injuries. Even saw a person killed once with a bullet to the head. That's something that you don't forget easily.

  "I'm so sorry," I murmur out loud to Ashleigh. "I had no idea."

  "I just..."
Ashleigh's composure then dissolves into tears as she sobs openly. "He said if I went to the cops, he'd...I'd..." And then she can't say any more.

  If there's one thing I can't handle, it's a woman crying. Especially a pretty one, and if she's under my skin like Ashleigh is, then there's nothing else for me to do but pull the Jeep over and wrap an arm around her as she cries.

  So I do.

  For an awkward moment, I realize that the last time I held someone like this was Samantha when we got her diagnosis. Afterward, she was a rock against all the shit we dealt with from that point on, but she needed that first moment of weakness to stay strong.

  With everything going on in Ashleigh's life, I know that she needs this. Hell, I do, too. And she wraps another arm around me and sobs into my chest.

  We stay like this for thirty minutes, not speaking, not really doing anything. Ashleigh releases all her pent-up grief and terror from Saturday night, and I promise myself that I'm going to be her rock through this.

  Finally, Ashleigh draws back with a loud sniffle. She sits back in her seat and wipes at her reddened, embarrassed cheeks. "Sorry about that."

  "Don't be," I say. And that is the last time I bring up her tears. I turn on the car. "We're almost there, okay?"

  "Okay." She looks down at her hands. "Why are you doing this? Why are you risking your life to save me?"

  I don't really have an answer for her, because I don't even have an answer myself, except that I saw something in her that I want to protect. I put the Jeep in drive. "Because you made me smile, even when I lost at blackjack."

  Callum

  The cabin is just as I remember it. It's a nicely appointed three-bedroom cabin with one story, a green roof, and a little porch and patio. Samantha loved coming out here to escape the rat race of the city and to help me relax whenever I was recovering from a hard case. It's good to come out here to forget the troubles of the world and just be a normal man for once.

  No one really knows about the cabin or where it is. As it's in Samantha's family, not mine, it never felt right coming out here with friends for a long weekend. When it was just the two of us, sure. But bringing any others just seemed wrong.

  These are extenuating circumstances, though. And I know that this is the safest place for Ashleigh and me.

  Fortunately, even in the dark, it doesn't have the disturbing, terrifying curb appeal that other cabins in the woods have in scary movies. I pull up the driveway and put the car in park.

  Ashleigh peers out the window at the cabin, her jaw slightly slack. "This is your house?"

  "It's a vacation home. Some friends own it."

  "Will they care that we're using their cabin?"

  I shake my head as I unbuckle my seatbelt. "No. I doubt they've been here in the last four years."

  We both go up the porch, and I start to search under the pots to find the key. It takes me about five different tries to remember which plant it is that the key is under. It's been longer than I thought it was.

  "And you're sure this is a cabin you can stay at?" Ashleigh asks sarcastically, her arms crossed. "It sure seems like you're breaking into it."

  I take her acting sarcastic as a good sign and laugh and unlock the front door. "It is a little bit of a break-in, but it's fine with my friends." I try the light switch right inside, but the lights don't come on. "Shit," I mutter as I make my way around the back of the house to the electrical panel. Hopefully, Marge and Harry didn't turn off the utilities since they haven't been here in a long time. I locate the electrical panel by the light of my phone and open it, checking if there's anything amiss. Ashleigh sticks close to me, not commenting any further as to whether or not this is a break-in, and she peers over my shoulder as I check.

  I flip a switch, and even from the backside of the house, I can see that the lights in the living room are now on, like a beacon in the darkness of the woods.

  "See?" I say, looking at Ashleigh. "Not a big deal. We're as good as gold."

  I lead her back to the front door, and I set foot inside my dead wife's family's vacation home for the first time in four years. It feels like the wind is knocked out of me as Ashleigh, and I stand in the entrance. I didn't think it would affect me this way. But it does, and it's all I can do to stay standing.

  "This is really nice," Ashleigh says after a long moment. "If a little dusty." She walks ahead of me, looking around like she's genuinely impressed by the house on display. She has her arms crossed over her breasts, and she looks around, taking it all in. I let her.

  "There're three bedrooms." I point down the hallway behind her, and she follows where I indicate. "But only one bathroom. You can take the biggest room if you'd like." After all, I'm not sure I can sleep there. Even if I could get over the fact that I spent time with Samantha in that bed, I need to sleep out here in the living room on the pullout couch to be at the center of everything to make sure that no one tries to sneak in.

  Ashleigh goes over to the hallway and looks around the corner. She pops back with a smile. "It seems more and more like you're being truthful about this being a legit vacation home."

  I chuckle and put my hands in my pockets. "I wouldn't lie to you."

  She smiles serenely at me before nodding solemnly. "I'm starting to believe that." She strides over to the kitchen and runs her fingers along the granite countertops. "This vacation home is nicer than my, well, home."

  "It's nicer than mine, too." I let out a long sigh and roll my shoulders to loosen up the tension. I wiped my face and my wounds from the blast with a towel in the Jeep, but my body is screaming with the need to get washed up, take some painkillers, and sleep the night away.

  "I'm going to go shower," I tell her as I brush past. "I need to get the scent of the exploded car off me."

  She startles as she reaches for me. "Thank you," she says in all seriousness. "You saved my life."

  I give her a tight grin. "You're welcome."

  And rather than wait around for more awkward conversation, I brush past her, and even that slight touch between us heats me from the inside out. I go to the bathroom down the hallway and turn the water on. Luckily, the cabin is on an instant electric hot water system, so it only takes a few minutes for the water to warm up to tolerable temperatures, and I consider going in there while it's still freezing. I need to get over my attraction to Ashleigh, or else we're going to hurt each other.

  Naked, I stand in the spray of the water and let it cascade over me. The water washes away the dirt, grime, and blood from the explosion, and I hate to think about the cleaning that my Jeep will need after I sat in it for a couple of hours to get here. I rub at my face and watch as the water swirls around the drain in a deep, rusted red color. I can almost imagine both Ashleigh and me being vaporized by the bomb, and all that's left of us would be these colors swirling together as they wash us off the pavement.

  I grit my teeth at the very thought.

  I think about Ashleigh and how lost she's been throughout this chaos. She could have died if I didn't do anything. A bright spark in the world, gone, just like that.

  I remember the feel of her against me as I held her in the Jeep on the way here. I held her shoulders, felt each rise and fall of her chest. I want to keep her safe.

  For the first time in what feels like an eternity, something has awakened within me. And I don't think it's just the former cop in me. It's something else.

  And I can't quite put my finger on it.

  Somehow. Some way.

  Ashleigh Chapman has gotten under my skin.

  And there's no way I can escape it.

  Ashleigh

  I try to take my mind off my near-death experience by exploring the cabin. Quite frankly, I'm surprised that Callum knows of such a place for us. And I'm even more surprised that he has done all of this for me. We barely know each other.

  And I have terrible luck around men anyway.

  I think back to my ex Trevor, and how horribly that ended six months ago. We'd been together since colle
ge, and when we graduated, we went up to Dallas to live together. And then he started going on long business trips. Then I saw the texts and realized that the only business he was conducting on those trips is making some hussy in Los Angeles happy.

  Nothing for the girl that he'd been with for nine years. And, as if proving my mother correct, it's very apparent as to why he never proposed to me or wanted to get married.

  He wasn't interested in having a life with me.

  When we broke up, I moved to San Antonio. At some point, I realized that I'd been living my life for someone else. Because I spent most of my time and my vacations with Trevor, I never went to a casino. I never spent much time by myself.

  I promised that San Antonio would be different. The Ashleigh that lives here would be a new and improved version of myself.

  And the first thing I did was get tangled up with a very dangerous bad guy.

  "Of course you did," I murmur out loud to myself. I shake my head. I don't really even feel sorry or scared anymore. Just overly tired. The adrenaline has worn off, and I just feel like I'm a shell of a human being.

  I nearly died tonight. All because I walked out of that casino at the wrong moment. All because I'm too naive for my own good.

  Am I naive about Callum? Should I be worried that this stranger basically came in and swept me off my feet? I think he genuinely cares and wants to keep me safe, but for what price? Usually, in the movies, the damsel in distress is some wealthy socialite or millionaire. I'm certainly a damsel, and I'm certainly in distress.

  But I have nothing to offer Callum at the end of all this. I can't even pay off my credit card, let alone give him some great reward. And my heart has been broken too recently to be of use to anyone.

  I explore the cabin, examining the granite countertops, and checking out the sofa and the mantel that's over the fireplace. There's no television in the cabin, which gives it a quaint, ‘removed from every care in the world' feeling. No matter what happens in the outside world, here, I have the illusion that I can be safe.