Page 6 of The Rust in Her Hair

Pack life still gets the wrong kind of attention in this city. People lose jobs over it; some even have their tires slashed, or worse. I hate hiding my mates, but it’s easier this way.

"If you don’t like it, don’t look." Mack smirks at Tony, unbothered as always. He's the one who has the easiest time with lying because he gives less of a shit than the rest of us combined.

My phone vibrates on the table. Owen.

I tip my chair forward to grab it, being careful to hide my pair of eights.

"Hey."

"Hey." The beta’s voice is low, like he stepped somewhere quiet. "Just checking in. How's the game going?"

"I'm winning." I lie glancing at Tony's massive pile of chips.

"Go easy on Pete and Tony," he says. "It’s a bad look for the boss to take all his employees’money." There's a long pause on his end. The kind that means he's deciding whether to tell me something or save it for when he gets home.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah." He’s quiet for a second, then he whispers, "It’s a little overwhelming here. I wanted to hear your voice."

Something warm blooms in my chest, the way it always does when he says things like that out loud. Eight years and he still does this to me.

"You heading home soon?"

"Another hour, maybe two. I have to do the rounds."

"Drive safe."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you."

I set the phone back down. Renata is finally drawing something in her sketchbook. Mack and Tony are bickering about the rain forecast for next week, debating whether the foundation pour at the Eastside site can happen Wednesday or whether it’ll have to wait until Friday.

"All right." I look at Pete as he stares at his cards. "You in or out, beta?"

"In."

"You sure, man?" Tony gives Pete a careful look.

"I know what I'm doing."

"You called on the last hand with a pair of fours."

"They were pretty fours." He smiles, making him look especially young. Which he is. Most of the guys on my crew are. Hard labor is easier on young backs.

The hand plays out. Tony wins again, then he sighs, signaling the end of the night.

"All right, gentlemen." He stands and stretches. "I gotta go. Wife's gonna kill me if I'm not home by midnight."

"She's not gonna kill you." Pete stands, too. "Not after she sees how well you did."

"True." Tony winks at me, proud, and I can't help but laugh.

I count out his chips at the table while he tugs his jacket on, then pull cash from the lockbox in the kitchen drawer. He bought in for forty and is walking out with a hundred and ten. I peel off the bills and hand them over.

"Don't spend it all in one place."

"Gonna spend it in exactly one place." Tony grins. "Gas station on the way home. Gotta get the wife some flowers so she doesn't actually kill me."