“Just lay low and I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”

Max shakes his head when I hang up the phone. “I checked with everyone I know. Nothing’s happening tonight. It’s sort of strange how dry it is.”

Not the update I was hoping for. Just my luck. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think the universe was against me.”

He pops open the tab of his beer. “You and me both. You might be the bullseye, but my nuts are on Campanelli’s dartboard now too. How the hell are you going to come up with a million by tomorrow? Last week you could barely pay your room and board, and that’s with the discount I give you.”

I scrub a hand down my face. “I don’t know, but I’ll figure something out.” I always do.

He searches his pockets for his cigarettes. “You can call that rich brother of yours. The tattooed hottie with the weird hair sounds like she’s close with him.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Maybe if you fuck her again, she’ll put in a good word for you and he’ll cut you a check.”

“I didn’t—” I pause, bumming a cigarette from his pack before I hand it to him. “I can’t. Her plane left an hour ago and I didn’t ask for her number.”

It’s easier to let him think Kit’s nothing more than another lay at this point. He’ll have fewer questions about her, and I won’t have to think about her. Things are more manageable for me that way.

Just like it’s easier to let him think my older brother’s a jerkoff who won’t give me a cent of our father’s money because I like to gamble.

Technically, it’s not too far off from the truth. When I went to say goodbye to Asher after the funeral, he tried to approach me with his own version of a good boy reward system.

Just like I knew he would.

Needless to say, I declined and got out of there as fast as I could. I already survived one Spencer Holden. No way in hell was I going to stick around to watch my brother transform into the next one.

I take a sip of my warm beer to wash the animosity down.

“He has to have an agent or something you can get in touch with,” Max continues. “A Facebook page, some bullshit like that.”

My already short fuse grows shorter. “Contacting my brother isn’t an option.” I take a long drag off my cigarette. “Besides, he won’t do it.”

That’s a lie. My brother would do it in an instant. But I haven’t reached the end of my rope…yet. And even if I did, I’d prefer to let Campanelli hang me.

“You won’t know unless—”

I slam my fist on the table. “Would you shut the fuck up about my brother? I’m trying to think.”

He raises his hands. “And I’m trying to help. I don’t know if you noticed, but Campanelli isn’t playing with a full deck. He hasn’t been for a while. It’s why Matteo runs most of his shit, otherwise, he’d be out of business because everyone who ever pissed him off would be dead.”

His hand grips the back of his neck. “I know how he operates, man. And Campanelli will get his money one way or another. It’s not a matter of if, it’s only a matter of how bloody the trail he leaves behind will be. And if you think he’ll listen to your sob story or spare anyone you love, think again. It doesn’t matter to him, it’s game over for everyone. The man is three fries short of a happy meal.”

A wave of panic washes over me. I can’t let that happen. I won’t.

Max—like anyone feeling apprehensive about being unjustly executed, has managed to poke at my weak spot. Fortunately for him, it works because I rise from my chair. “I’ll be back later.”

He gives me a puzzled look. “Where are you going?”

“Casino.”

That only confuses him more. “You ain’t got a pot to piss in, guy. This isn’t the time to be gambling away your last fifty bucks.”

I run a hand through my hair and grab my wallet. “I’m not.”

“Then what—” Whatever he was going to say falls by the wayside as he puts two and two together. “Bad idea. You can’t afford to sit in a jail cell tonight.”

“I know what I’m doing. I was barely even arrested last time.”

“Barely even arrested,” he repeats to himself. “Her husband was a goddamn DA.”

I smirk. “Yeah, but it’s not like she pressed charges.”

He gestures toward me with the beer in his hand before he takes a swig. “And that right there is half your problem, man. You’re too cocky. Just like the rest of them pretty boys in the world, you think good looks and a big dick makes you invincible, but it really makes you stupid. Take my word for it, man. I’ve seen this scenario play out before with bad results. Your charms won’t save you from Campanelli, and neither will a night in the slammer, because he’ll be waiting when you get out. Or worse, someone will be waiting when you go in. Don’t do anything stupid, Preston.”