PROLOGUE
EIGHT MONTHS BEFORE THE MAIN EVENTS OF LADY LUCK
Cody
There wasnothing I wanted to do more in this moment than set my trash can on fire.
I’d imagined it more than once over the past four hours as the black mesh receptacle slowly filled to overflowing with my botched renditions of theMona Lisa,the latest and—so far—most embarrassing assignment this online art class had thrust upon my nonworking hours.
But Bree, my best friend, would never forgive me if I was arrested for arson, which was already in her top five fears regarding my future.
Then again…
A minor fire could be just the thing to snap her out of whatever-the-hell funk she’d been in since Christmas.
I flicked my charcoal pencil over my latest attempt and gave Mona a cheeky little wink before bundling her up in my fist and throwing her on top of her fallen comrades. Collapsing back on my bed like a starfish, I lay there for a few moments before Iturned over and rooted underneath my pillow to grab my old Dell laptop.
I desperately needed something to make me feel good, so I pulled upSabrina the Teenage Witchand picked up where I’d last left off.
Where Bree and I had left off more than two weeks ago.
Shit.
I rubbed at my aching chest. Something really was off with her. We’d never gone more than a few days without watching one of our shows together, and I’d been deluding myself that it was just the usual postholiday blues.
She’d been fine on my birthday two days before Christmas. We’d finished up work pretty late—her appearing as Fortuna Casino & Resort’s primary entertainer, delighting crowds with her Lady Luck persona by throwing roulette balls blindfolded, and me taking a shift at the valet booth—before spending a couple hours at the Fortuna’s arcade, goofing off like only a pair of people in their very early twenties with minimal family or responsibilities could.
Canned laughter drew me back to the show, and I let myself fall into it until a new episode started that centered around pancakes, causing my stomach to rumble in warning and then wail a few minutes later after I’d ignored it.
It must’ve been longer than I’d realized since I crammed that patty melt into my face during my twenty-minute break while working yet another shift valeting.
I shut my laptop and shuttled it under my pillow, nice and cozy, grazing a hair elastic on the way. I hooked it with my finger during my retreat, then threw my hair back into a rough knot. It was finally long enough to pull back and not poke me in the eyes every time I moved, which was often—I was a fidgety motherfucker and always had been—and even though I was gladto try something new, that middle phase of growing out my hair had been annoying.
Most things were annoying.
I scooted to the edge of my bed and swung my legs off, then used my foot to probe under it for my slides. Shoes were also annoying, but I wouldn’t be allowed inside most establishments without them, so I contorted my body and was rewarded when my foot finally grazed them. With my hands braced behind me and my left hip thrust into the air, I probably looked like I was involved in a high-stakes game of Twister.
Or I would, if anyone were here to see it.
I toe-grappled the ratty slides from under my bed, then jammed my feet into them, sighing in relief when my back muscles relaxed.
When I stepped onto the landing outside of my converted apartment, I froze at the top of the stairs, two things occurring to me simultaneously.
It was dark.
I was cold.
Unsure which to investigate first, I tipped my chin up to the darkened sky and sent a probing line of pats down my body, stopping when I felt silk.
Welp.
I squinted at the full moon in its full glory and then at everything it illuminated below. The multitude of modest older houses built in too-close proximity, the narrow highway, and the steep metal steps down to the yard. This neighborhood was just far enough away from the Gulf Coast that the air had only a touch of its signature salt-and-fish smell but was close enough to the Coast’s row of casinos to make the commute bearable.
It wasn’t a terribly safe area, which was why I’d denied Bree’s request to become roomies even though I desperately wanted that. But I couldn’t be with her at all hours, and she worked a lotof late nights and early mornings at the casino. I wasn’t worried for myself, as I’d taken a scorched-earth approach after I moved here by death glaring at everyone I came across within a half-mile radius.
For months.
This sketchy rental was the only place I could afford with my own money, but my method had worked. I’d never had any issues.
