Player: Stone Cold MC (3 page)

“Your playing impressed us,” he said.

“Thank you.” I flashed a cute smile, hoping it would get me somewhere. Whether it was the smile or the playing I didn’t know, but he nodded and looked over my shoulder nonchalantly.

“I’d like to invite you to the VIP room. We’re starting a high stakes poker game in half an hour, and we’d like to offer you a seat at the table.”

Bingo.

I feigned looking surprised, keeping my smugness on the down low, and nodded.

“I’d love to,” I said. He must have been a casino official, and I noticed the gold plate with his name on. Charlie. That confirmed it for me. He held his hand out, gesturing toward the gilded doors that led through to the high rollers’ area where the VIPs got to play for a lot more money. I thanked him and walked through.

I’d been in the VIP room once before, and the memory didn’t do it justice. Where the rest of the casino was decorated with a lot of gold, the VIP room had the red and the brown, but cream finishes instead, not showing the glamour of a possible life, but complimenting the clients who were already leading it.

There were ladies in cocktail dresses and men in tuxedos. There were very few people who were dressed down, no doubt other promising players picked off the floor, and I felt underdressed.

I did up the button on my blouse again. This was classy business, no space for using my body the way I had before.

I eyed the table. There were ten players around it—double what I’d been playing until now, and it was intimidating, with all of the men in tuxedos. Still, I wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge.

I ordered myself a fancy sounding drink from a menu I didn’t recognize anything on and leaned against the bar, waiting for the bartender to mix it.

It came out the color of sunset, and when I tasted it, it tasted good. Thank God. It had a kick of alcohol in it, but nothing I couldn’t handle.

I sat down at the first call, my drink on the table in front of me. The men eyed me—not as a piece of meat which I’d hoped for, but as an opponent. They all knew what they were doing. I knew that. What I needed tonight was to fall back on my counting skills. I wasn’t going to rely on luck and a gut feel with this amount of money involved.

Opening bet was two grand. Enough to make my head spin.

The game kicked off. Somewhere after the third hand, I ordered another drink. Two hours in and someone had dropped out. I was still going strong and getting more and more confident. I just had to keep my eyes on the cards.

I had a king and an ace in my hand. I was going to cream this one.

There was a commotion in the next section. Security guards ran past, and I let my eyes follow them. The handsome guy from earlier was dragged by, screaming something in colorful words. Another guard joined them and escorted him out.

Despicable. People like that had to learn how to behave themselves in public.

When I turned my attention back to the table, I realized I’d missed something. The distraction had gotten me behind.

Shit.

I picked up the corner of my cards and peeked at them like the idiots I despised. King and an ace. Right. I could still win this.

We were one card short of a flush. Was I going to risk it? I hadn’t been counting, but my gut was screaming at me.

All in. I pushed my entire stack of chips toward the middle. Some onlookers gasped, but I was happy. I was going to win this one. My gut never betrayed me.

The guy flipped the cards. It wasn’t the jack I’d been hoping for. Instead, it was another queen. Someone else had two queens making it a triple. With an ace kicker, winning. And since I’d been all in, I was out of the game.

Fuck.

I got up, smiled politely, and thanked them for the game. My smile faded the moment I walked away. That idiot and his distraction had lost me all my money. I was walking out of the Harlan Gold with nothing.

My mood turned black, and I stomped out of the VIP section. I’d lost more money than I’d ever lost in one night, and I looked like a fool to boot. The people who invited me into the VIP section must really think they made the right choice.

Dammit!

I was so angry I was about ready to slap someone. And the people who saw me picked up on it, too, because they stayed out of my way. A path opened for me when I walked to the door. It was all because of that guy.

The good-looking one. I should have known he was going to be trouble. He had it written all over that face of his.

I swear, if I got my hands on him, I was going to bloody murder him.

I crossed the state border into California and something warm and nauseatingly emotional welled up inside of me. I hated to admit that that was what it was, but these were facts, and not even I could run away from them, no matter how hard I tried.

California was Emmett’s kind of place. The weather, the people, it all worked for him. I hadn’t been back here without him. Part of it was because I wasn’t up to walking those memories alone. I stopped at a gas station a couple of miles in and decided my plan of action.

I wanted to lie low, be out of the public eye for a bit. The club was getting a bit hot on my ass. But at the same time, I didn’t want to stop playing the game just because I was in a bit of trouble. That just spelled out pathetic. So it was going to have to be a big city. Sacramento, San Francisco, San Jose… there were a lot of choices. Los Angeles jumped at me. Of course, I was in the Golden State.

I liked the idea of L.A. It was close to the sea, and it had been a while since I’d gotten my toes wet. Besides, it was packed with the rich and famous, and they all needed somewhere to blow their money.

I got back in my car and drove the last stretch without stopping.

By the time I got into the city, it was just past midnight. The city wasn’t asleep yet, and neither was I. The lights were bright and flashing all around me like artificial daytime. I checked into a motel with a fake name, a wad of cash, and a big tip for the reception guy to keep his mouth shut about me. With the way his eyes bulged, I doubted he’d seen cash like that before. I was guessing the motel was his only source of income.

I showered. I hated long drives; they made me sweat. I got dressed in fancy pants, a light green, checkered collar shirt that looked better than it should have, and shrugged back into my leather jacket. The weather was more forgiving than Nevada’s pressing heat, and it felt good to be in my good clothes for a night out on the town.

I walked down the strip where the casinos were located and a place called Harlan Gold drew me. It was big and flashy, and judging by the amount of people streaming in through its door, it was also very popular.

When I stepped through the glass doors that led inside I was seduced by the vibe and décor of the place. Red and gold everywhere, with classy people floating around, and the chatter and laughter a sound that I’ve come to love. The smell of green and tobacco smoke was in the air, and I felt right at home.

I swapped cash for chips and headed toward the roulette tables. Always a good way to start the night, relying on sexy lady luck. The casino handed out little gold trays for those who had too many chips to carry. That was my goal, to get my hands on one of those, and then to worm my way into one of the high-stake games to meet the right people. But you didn’t just meet them by your lonesome. I needed contacts. I was new in town, and I wasn’t going to get anywhere without some kind of reference.

A man stood next to me, mumbling to himself as the white ball spun round. I’d put chips on seventeen red. He’d put some on seventeen black.

The ball landed in my favor, and he swore.

“Next time,” I said. “All is fair in love and war, right?”

He had a cream suit on that looked out of place in the casino where it was mostly black and white and jewel-colored cocktail dresses. He wore brown-rimmed glasses that looked like something from the seventies, and his hair was the same color and combed over a bald spot on top of his head. If he didn’t look so young, I would have guessed him to be from another era.

“You want to get a drink?” he asked me. Foot was in the door. I scraped my winnings together and pocketed them, following him to the bar. He walked as if he owned the place. Confidence always had a place in the gambling world, and I decided I liked him.

“Name’s Ted,” he said after he ordered Lagavulin. I ordered Gray Goose and sucked my long and tall down to get the buzz going. It was going to be a good night; I could feel it in my bones.

“Rip,” I said, not lying about who I was this time. “Rip Peterson.”

“Well, doesn’t that have a poetic ring to it,” he said. I couldn’t decide if he was joking or not. He nodded his head to a cocktail table that just cleared, and he put his drink on top. “So, what brings you to Harlan?”

“What brings anyone here?” I asked. He smiled.

“You’re new in town, aren’t you?”

I nodded. “How’d you guess?”

He shrugged. “Just the way about you. I have a sense for these things.” I nodded pretending to agree, but really I was betting it was just a lucky guess.

“So, you going to show me around a bit?”  I asked. “Tell me who I need to watch out for?”

“What makes you think you need to look out for anything?” he asked. He looked around nonchalantly as if he wanted to come off uncaring, but his attitude had changed.  A man with information was always a man at the top of the food chain.

“Come now, Teddy,” I said, taking a chance with a nickname. “Every playground has new bullies. Help a new kid out.”

Ted grinned.

“You’re right,” he said. “And the first people you need to know about are the Crucifix Six.”

I snorted into my drink. With a name like that, the Stone Cold Club sounded like a classy operation.

“Don’t laugh it off. They’re one of the most dangerous organizations around town. They have eyes and ears, and possibly scopes, on everyone around here.”

“I’m guessing there are six of them in management?” I asked. Management being the people who told the triggers when they needed to beat someone up, or when killing was appropriate.

“Can’t get anything past you,” Ted said sarcastically. I shrugged.

“One guy, in particular, you need to look out for…a regular named Antonio Jerrill. He’s always here, and even though he’s not one of the Six, he’s in their back pocket. I don’t know what he has on them, but they look after him like he’s the crown prince himself.”

“Six dicks and their lackey. Got it,” I said. Ted stared at me with a half open mouth before putting it to good use and sipping more of his Lag.

“Listen, if I can give you any kind of advice, it’s not to get cocky. You don’t want to fall in with the wrong crowd.”

I nodded, pretending to take the advice. But honestly, Ted didn’t know that I
was
the wrong crowd. I could handle myself. I knew how these clubs operated; I knew how they cheated and stole. I’d been one of them after all, and they’d taught me well.

I also knew how they killed.

“Right,” I said.

I looked up and woman walking by caught my eye. She wore a shirt the color of blood that made her skin look like condensed milk. She had deep brown eyes, hair the same color that hung over her shoulders like cloak, and she was honing in on the poker section. She walked as if she didn’t know she was sexy, even though she was drop dead gorgeous.

There was a moment where she swiveled her head. Her longs stride faltered just a little when her eyes met mine, and I was lost in that stare. Then she turned her attention back to where she was headed and kept moving.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t go down that road,” Ted said, watching my face when I finally looked at him. “That’s Alexandra, and she’s trouble.”

“Why? Does she belong to the band of brothers?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing like that. She’s not a threat when it comes to morals and all that, but she’s a hell of a player, and you don’t want to face her because you’ll lose. She’s the Queen of Blackjack. Everyone that plays her loses it all. She comes in and cleans up, and she’s always got those big innocent eyes and the pout when she does it. I don’t know how she does it, but she’s a winner.”

“Sounds like my kind of woman,” I said. Good at cards and a body that made me sit up and beg. She looked like she could be a fun lay.

“She also doesn’t respond to assholes,” Ted said.

“Watch it,” I snapped. No one called me an asshole unless they had proof.

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Ted said, holding his hands up in defense before throwing the last of his drink back. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve in a low class way.

“Anyway, I’m out of here. Wife at home, gets pissy when I don’t show early enough. She’s scared I’ll gamble away all our money.”

He nodded at me and walked away, leaving me alone at the tall table.

I turned the empty glass around and around on the smooth wood for a while, pulling my act together, before I turned and decided to start my own games.

I played poker for a while. Alexandra sat with a group of men, and by the looks on their faces, I was guessing she wasn’t just good at blackjack. After I won my last game, I stayed put, watching her. She moved with grace, and she didn’t peek at her cards once.

A man in a crisp white suit and black collared shirt sat down. He wore those sunglasses what were just dark enough not to be cool inside. He had a lot of gold around his neck and on his fingers, and his black hair was slicked back with so much oil he looked bullet proof.

“Mind if we join you,
amigo
?” he asked. His Mexican accent was thick. I nodded and waved at the empty seats.

“Please.”

He sat down with four of his friends. A man that I assumed was a bodyguard took a position behind him to his right. The dealer started dealing, and I ended up with a good hand. A seven and a king. Something I could work with if I played it right.

I didn’t, and I folded the first round. The second and third hand were in my favor, and on the fourth, I won a load of money.

“You’re better than you look,” Tex-Mex said.

I shrugged. “I didn’t expect this to be such an easy win.”

His smile faltered. It was still on his lips, but the light had left his eyes.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

“No thanks, buddy. I’m into girls.”

His smile disappeared completely.

“There’s one thing that will never fly in a place like this, amigo,” he said. His voice was low and threatening. What a clown. “Surely you know that arrogance and gambling never go together.”

“It’s not a gamble if you know you’re going to win,” I said. Yes, so I was being a cocky S.O.B., but the Goose had made me confident, and the win had made me feel invincible. The bodyguard leaned down and whispered something in his ear.

“I am willing to give you one more chance,” Tex-Mex said. He was curling and uncurling his fingers with all the rings on them, the tanned skin complimented the gold I was betting was real.

“A chance to take more of your money?” I asked.

The bodyguard walked around the table as if he’d been given a signal. He grabbed me by the jacket and hauled me out of my chair. I cried out and swung my fists at him, but he was stronger than he looked.

Also bigger from this angle.

He started dragging me toward the door. Everywhere players were turning and staring at me. Some of them shook their heads as if I was a disappointment. At least Lady Alexandra wasn’t around to see my humiliation.

The moment I thought it, I spotted her through the doors that led to the VIP section. She was sitting at a table with a lot of upper-class-looking men. So she’d gotten the golden tray. Dammit to hell. And I was being dragged out of the casino like a dog. And all my chips were on the table, still. No matter how well I’d been playing, I lost it all now.

Macho dumped me outside the main doors. The security just glanced at me, doing nothing about it.

“Thanks for having my back, guys,” I said when the bodyguard had disappeared back inside and I scooped myself off the pavement.