Crazy Eights (Stacked Deck #8) - Emilia Finn Page 0,128

Lucy told you to fuck yourself only a few minutes ago.”

“I said screw you,” Lucy cuts in.

“But you meant go fuck yourself,” Jay counters.

He turns to me after chucking Lucy’s chin, and waves me forward. “Your brother is gonna get into town at eleven, which means you have a couple of hours to help with that scissor thing you wanna do.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay.” I take a step back, and almost trip on Giselle. “I forgot my place for a minute, but I remember now.” I look to Soph. “I’m sorry for being a bitch. I respect the hell out of you, both in dance, and in what you’re doing for us. I let my emotions fuck me over for a second, but I promise not to toss that shit at you ever again. I’m just gonna let myself out, and probably never show my face around here ever again. Come, Giselle.” I turn and step through the doorway

“Giselle!” Soph snaps. “Stay.”

I poke my head back through the door and scowl. “Giselle. Come.”

“She’s not coming with you,” Lucy drawls. “Her hierarchy starts with Jamie, then me, then Soph. She only met you yesterday, so if you want her to listen to you over us, you’re gonna have to earn it.”

“So I guess I’ll just…” Leave her?

“Come in here,” Soph says with exasperation. “First of all, you need an education on dance moves and their names. You can’t be saying ‘do the spinny thing,’ and expect us to know what the fuck is up. Second, come and explain the scissor thing, because I’m about to slam Lucy’s head against a brick wall if she doesn’t stick that move.”

“Classy.” Lucy steps past Soph with a roll of her eyes, but she smiles for me, and flips the stereo on. “Real classy, Soph. You talk about all your students that way?”

“Oh please. You haven’t been my student in years.” Soph looks to me. “Come in here. Talk us through the move. Don’t make your shoulder worse while you’re doing it.”

Jamie

Reconnect

At the knock on my front door, I leave my kitchen counter and the post-it Quinn left behind, and cross my house at an almost trot.

I don’t quite know what I’m feeling, knowing Will is in town. I have a lot of misguided anger aimed at him, simply because his problems have been made Quinn’s problems. If he went away, so would her reasons for running. But at the same time, he’s never been a dick to me. Not really. And him being here means Quinn won’t run.

Not until he leaves again, anyway.

I swing open the door, and nod at the three men who stand on my porch. Will, Kane Bishop, and Spencer Serrano; the actual Spencer, from whom my fake club membership took inspiration.

“Hey.” I step aside, and let them wander into my home.

Giselle isn’t here, and the fact she’s not underfoot is strange to me. I want her back, but she’s with Quinn. I want Giselle here with me, because she’s my crutch when I don’t have Quinn. Now Quinn has Giselle, and the universe gave me Will and a couple of men from the Checkmate crew.

“Just drop your bags over there.” I point toward the hallway leading upstairs, and tell Will, “I’ll show you your room in a bit.”

Scoping out my place, and poking his head around corners, Will nods and drops his bags where he’s told. “Where is she?”

“She’s at the studio with Soph and Luce,” Kane answers for me. “She’s been there a few hours.”

“Does she know I’m here?”

Spence walks to my fridge, opens it wide, and helps himself to the pasta dish my mom left in there yesterday. “Jay told us Soph handed Quinn a can of whoop ass.” He turns to the counter with the entire pasta dish, and goes searching in my cupboards for a bowl. “Quinn copped an attitude with our ballerina, our ballerina fired shots right back.”

Will sits on a stool and rests his elbows on the counter. “I’m gonna go ahead and assume, for all of your safety, that those shots were verbal, and not actual bullets.”

“I’d prefer the bullets,” Kane quips, snagging a second bowl for himself. “Soph smacks down like a streetfighter on Ritalin. She wouldn’t have been gentle.” He drops the bowl in front of Spence. “I would one-hundred-percent choose the actual bullets. They hurt less.”

“You’re being dramatic.” I roll my eyes. “Soph is… well, she’s really to the point. If Q said shit to Soph that wasn’t true, then