Keith’s friends apologized while they pulled him away, but they didn’t get too far before Keith cried out. I already knew what had happened. They’d made the mistake of bringing him too close to Kansas on their way back to where they were before.

Keith held up his crooked fingers. “Someone grabbed my fucking hand! They’re broken!”

The hotshots and Keith’s friends made noises, all grossed out by the multiple fractures in his ring and pinky fingers.

“Better get him to the ER,” Kansas said. “Before I break the other three.”

“What the fuck? These women are demons! That one put a knife to my dick earlier! You’ve been warned!” Keith yelled while he was escorted out by his friends.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have come back for more, genius!” Watts yelled, then turned to Kansas. “You did that?” he asked her.

“Possibly,” she said.

Watts smiled, in awe. “I think I’m in love.”

“You got a knife?” Sugar asked Spenser.

She shrugged.

The chatter with the hotshots picked up, and I straightened Zeke’s shirt. “Why do you insist on this nonsense when you know I can take care of myself?”

“I don’t know,” he said, sitting in the chair next to me. “It’s the way I was raised. And I…”

“You what?” I asked when he didn’t finish.

“I like you,” he said.

“I’m married.”

Zeke paused. “Then tell me you just wanna be friends.”

I opened my mouth, but the words didn’t come out. I took a swig of my beer instead, pretending to watch the others laugh and enjoy one another’s company.

chapter fifteen

myths

Naomi

T

he doors of the Colorado Springs Hotel swept open, and glorious air conditioning blew into my face. A dark-haired college kid stood at the check-in counter. Men and women were still ambling around the lobby, a pint or bottle in their hands. The bartender was in a vest and bowtie, obviously trying to class the place up a bit.

Watts leaned against the counter to order but was interrupted.

“Sorry, last call has come and gone,” the bartender said.

“What? C’mon, Stavros! It’s not even eleven o’clock!” Watts said.

“Does this look like a Hilton to you?” a man said, turning around on his stool. His eyes were blood shot and glossed over.

Zeke touched his shoulder. “Whoa. Tyler. You’re blitzed.”

“Fuck off,” Tyler said, pulling his shoulder away.

Zeke didn’t seem to mind. “Let’s get you up to your room. C’mon. You’re not doing anyone any good down here.”

Tyler stared at him for a minute, looking lost. “They arrested her.”

“I know,” Zeke said.

“I had to put her in a cab and send her back to Estes.”

“I know.”

“She hates me.”