But that was stupid, and she and I both knew that.
What was happening now was what it was. We were working out something from the past and nothing more. Tempest was a con artist, someone who deceived innocent people. No matter how hard it was to imagine, that was a fact.
This was closure, pure and simple.
It couldn't be anything else.
Even if I wanted it to be.
19
Tempest
I ran my finger up and down the back of his hand, where his palm was pressed firmly against my abdomen. It was dangerous, lying here with him as if we were a couple, two regular people with normal lives. It felt too familiar, too homey.
I reminded myself that there was nothing between us anymore.
Anything I was feeling right now was just an artifact of the past, a remnant of some childhood crush, the haze and delirium and stupidity of young love.
And everyone knew you couldn’t trust your feelings when it came to teenage love.
That’s all Silas was, and nothing more.
“Silas?” I asked.
“Yeah, bright eyes.” His hand paused in its place on my stomach.
“I am sorry, you know.” I thought he knew, but it seemed important to say.
“I know,” he said, kissing the back of my head. He was silent for a long time before he spoke again. “Are you staying in Vegas?”
“No.” I didn't elaborate. He didn’t need to know where I was going next. What would be the point? I was a grifter. I didn’t stay in the same place longer than it took to run a con. I didn’t date. I didn’t do relationships. I sure as hell didn’t fall in love.
But Silas didn’t ask me to elaborate. He didn't ask any more questions, just rolled me over onto my back, slid his cock into me, and fucked me slowly, his eyes locked on mine the entire time.
I told myself that what was happening between us was closure.
And the next morning, when we said goodbye, I reminded myself of that fact.
The problem was that when I said goodbye, it didn't feel like closure. It felt like I'd just hit the pause button on us.
And that scared me.
20
Silas
"You look...rested," Trigg said, emphasizing the word, a huge grin plastered across his face. He laughed loudly at his own joke.
"Shut the hell up," I said. "What's going on, anyway? Why does Deborah want to give back the money?"
Trigg shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "But she wants to meet and give it back to you. She said she couldn't reach you because your phone was off. I didn't tell her that the reason your phone was off was because you pulled the hot television producer chick from the bar the other night. I didn't know you even had it in you, man." He paused, chuckling. "But I guess you got it in her, right?"
"What are you, twelve years old?" I asked. "I'm not going to let Deborah give back the money. Did you tell her that?"
Trigg nodded. "I did. Johnny said they're flush."
"How are they suddenly flush?"
"She wouldn't say over the phone," he said. "That's why we need to go by in person. But they're insisting on giving it back. That's all I know. Now, tell me about the girl. Was she as hot as she looked like she'd be in bed?"
"I'm not fucking talking to you about this, Trigg."
Trigg laughed. "Sorry," he said. "Didn't realize you were all in love with her already."
"Shut up," I said. "I'm not in love with her."
I told myself I meant it.
"I don't understand, Deborah." The envelope of cash sat untouched on the table between us. "That was a gift."
"You need it more than we do, Silas," she said. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was practically beaming.
"What happened? Did you win the damn lottery?" I asked.
"Sort of," she said. "I can't really talk about it."
"Well, you need to, because I'm not taking back this money until you tell me what's going on."
"It's nothing bad, Silas," she said. "It's the exact opposite, actually. Someone went out of their way to set things right with Coker. We're okay now. Forever."
I shook my head. "Shit, Deborah," I said. "If something sounds too good to be true, it definitely is. Does this involve money? I don't want to see you and Johnny wind up hurt."
"It's kosher," she said. "We've met with an attorney. There's a trust set up."
"I don't understand," I said. "From Coker?"
Deborah shrugged. "My employer made the arrangements - one of the guys I clean houses for. He said that Coker had seen the error of his ways."
I glanced at Trigg, whose eyes were wide. "That doesn't sound like Coker," I said.
Deborah smiled. "I don't care if Coker was pressured into giving us that money, or if he did it because he found Jesus. All I care about is the fact that the money is real, Silas, and that we can move out of this hellhole neighborhood and that my daughter is not going to get shot going to school."