Gotta Have Fate (Winslow Brothers)

“How many cameras do you have outside?” I ask, my tone unmistakably accusatory.

She smiles again, skirting past me toward the back room. “However many you need to believe I have, my dear.”

I roll my eyes. Fucking hell, this woman is full of shit, and apparently, she gets some kind of sick pleasure out of toying with people.

“Do you like robbing people of their money, Cleo?” I say, unable to bite my tongue any longer.

“Don’t mind him, Cleo. He’s in a really bad mood.”

I reach out and swipe at Jude’s head, and Cleo’s voice cracks out in a whiplike reprimand.

“Children, please. I know all about Remington and his moods.” She meets my eyes, hers narrowing with some weird form of allegation. “I know all about them.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I question, agitated. I don’t know who the fuck this lady thinks she is with all her tricks, but she doesn’t know a goddamn thing about me.

“Remy, relax,” Jude chastises. “This is supposed to be fun.” I almost growl at his devil-may-care face, but he turns back to the crazy woman and sits down in the chair in front of her table, gesturing for her to take the seat on the other side. “You can do me first, Miss Cleo.”

“Me too!” Ty volunteers excitedly, raising his hand.

Cleo tsks, sinking into the chair and holding up a flattened vertical hand to Ty. “One at a time, love. Your turn will come.”

Jude vibrates in the seat, his eyes bouncing from me to Ty to Flynn and back to Cleo again, he’s so excited. Cleo holds out a single hand, palm up, and Jude reaches out without hesitation to lay his against hers.

She clasps her fingers around his, closing the hand sandwich with her other one over the top, her eyes shutting tightly.

Her lips move almost as though she’s talking, but no sound comes out.

I give Flynn a look out of the side of my eye, and he actually has the audacity to crack a small grin.

When Cleo opens her eyes again, her mouth is curved into an exaggerated smile that feels almost inhuman.

“You, my darling Jude, have a compulsion to feel the high of a wager.”

“So, what? He’s going to have a gambling problem?” I interrupt to ask angrily. “Because if that’s your prediction, you couldn’t be more wrong. The only way that’ll happen is over my dead body.”

Miss Cleo clicks her tongue and wags a finger at me as she shakes her head.

“You don’t think I know that, my darling boy? I do.”

“What do you mean, then?” Jude asks, his eyes wide and eager.

“There will come a time…” She pauses and then corrects herself. “No. There will come a bet. One that will change the course of your life. One that will mold the shape of you as a man. Be careful, though, child. It won’t be a period of easy choices. But if you handle it right, it could lead to a great deal of happiness for you and the ones you love.”

Jude wags his eyebrows, half convinced now by this crock of shit that he’s going to hit it big on a game of chance. And I’m going to have to spend the foreseeable future making sure he doesn’t dump his money into a goddamn Ponzi scheme.

I glare at Cleo as she waves a hand to Ty, summoning him to take Jude’s place in the chair.

I plant my feet and cross my arms over my chest. The sooner we get done with this farce, the sooner we can get the fuck out of here so I can start trying to restore sanity to the Winslow lineage.

Flynn steps up and grabs Ty by the shoulder, though, shoving him to the side and surprising us all. “I’m next.”

“You’re really going along with this shit, Flynn?” I question disbelievingly. Out of all three of my brothers, Flynn is the last one I expected to be down for this bullshit.

He shrugs. “It’s just for fun, Rem.”

At Flynn’s always practical words, I inhale a deep breath and nod. He’s right. I don’t know why I’ve let Cleo get me so worked up in such a short amount of time, but it’s bordering on ridiculous.

This is a fun escape from reality—a last hurrah with my brothers before my wedding day. It’s unnecessary to give it any more credence than that.

“Go ahead, then,” I bark at Cleo, some of my ill-advised feeling still obviously rumbling around the surface.

She smiles again and takes Flynn’s hand in hers. “So practically minded, Flynn.”

We all nod, and I laugh. After the last exchange between us, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out.

“So sound of mind and judgment.”

“And?” Flynn questions, his patience starting to wane.

“And I’m happy to report that, for the most part, you’ll remain this way as far as I can see into the future. There will be a night, though. One wild, unexpected night in a seemingly predictable life where you, my sweet boy, will make a pact with a stranger from which there will be great consequence.”