Heist Royale (Thieves’ Gambit #2)

Chapter Thirty-One

Thirty-One

I kinda thought Devroe was ignoring me. Two times I called and got no answer. It was doing something to my pride to get hit with a voicemail twice.

A text dropped down after the second call cut off early.

Five minutes

I tried to be dramatic and count the stars while waiting, but the sun was burning into the sky by now.

Five minutes passed. Did he want me to call, or did he mean he was going to call—

My phone vibrated for all of two-tenths of a second before I swiped to answer the call.

The other end was quiet for a long moment.

“Hello—”

“Ross—”

Our voices overlapped. Oh right, usually the person who answers a call is the one who talks first.

I pressed a hand into my forehead, hiding my cringe from absolutely no one. Why didn’t I know how to act like a normal person?

“I don’t know how long I have,” Devroe said. I could hear a light wind nipping at the edge of the speaker.

“Where are you?”

“Hiding behind a rooftop access door.”

“You’re on a roof?”

“Yes, that’s usually where rooftop access doors are.”

“Me too,” I said, ignoring the sass. Getting back to my feet, I turned to face Hart’s building, now backlit by the dawn and looking like it had just risen out of the ocean. I was sure that was the rooftop Devroe was on. Why wouldn’t his team still be at chilling at Kiah’s casino? Was he, maybe, looking this way too?

“It’s a gorgeous sunrise,” I said.

“I’ve seen something more stunning.”

“Boo. That one was predictable.”

“Sorry. Guess I’m rusty.”

Being ignored for months would do that to a boy, wouldn’t it?

I pressed my toe into the concrete, noting how the morning light seemed to have shifted the shades of everything within a matter of minutes. “Are you going to apologize for beating me?”

“It wouldn’t be genuine. Whether you hate me for it or not, it’s what’s best. What I think is best, at least.”

“I don’t hate you,” I said. The words tumbled out. “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I hated you.”

“Ah, good to know.”

I tried to spot a silhouette on the distant rooftop of the Hart building, but it was like trying to spy a balloon after it had drifted just too far into the clouds. “Everything’s so gray,” I said. “I don’t think I hate anyone. Except for Baron and maybe Count and Noelia’s dad on a bad day, but that’s not the point.” I threaded my fingers through the grate between me and the view to Hart’s. “I don’t hate you, Devroe Kenzie. I…understand all the things going on. Thank you for wanting to save me, but that’s not enough. I can’t abandon my family.”

I heard the faint brush of skin against metal on his end as well. Was there also a safety gate on the top of Hart’s? An image of him twining his fingers into the railing on his rooftop popped into my mind. I squeezed the links of the grate. “I talked to Baron privately. He’s not going to let me wish for more than one person. I assume just in case Mum found out I was trying to roadblock her plans to end all of the Quests, he doesn’t want to risk ticking her off in the last round. I can’t save your whole family, Ross, just you.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be alive if everyone in my family isn’t—” I stopped myself, letting the implication sit, dark as it was. “Baron is a snake. Who’s to say he won’t find a way to backtrack and kill me anyway, especially if he really wants to keep your mom in his debt.”

Diane wanted me dead too. We both knew she wasn’t just going to stop once I was the only Quest left standing. The beat of silence on Devroe’s end told me he had thought the same.

“She’s going to win, Ross.” Because he thought she would win no matter what. It was more than just being a good son. He had faith in her to pull out a victory and not me. “At least with this arrangement,” Devroe said quietly, “I know you’ll be okay for now, and it’ll buy me more time to keep protecting you. So I’ll say it again. I understand if you hate me.”

If only it was that easy. But there was something about honesty that made hating him near impossible tonight.

I watched the links of my meteor bracelet twinkle, the shade matching the pastel pink smearing in the sky. Count had been kind enough to have my precious weapon smuggled out of the New Orleans Police’s evidence locker, though I suspected it was at Mom’s request. “I think I would have hated you, if our moms were still friends. You’d probably be that annoying little boy who was always pestering me with cringey flirting, and I would’ve thought you were annoying my whole life.”

He let out a breath of a laugh. “I think…I would have been in love with you for years now.”

My breath caught. Would have. Was he saying…

Metal creaked behind him. “I have to go.”

He ended the call.