Morrison Page 10

  “No, that would be too easy. I’ve already beaten you.”

  He whispers something in the ear of one of his goons, then walks away.

  The man pulls out a card and throws it on the table in front of me. “Your mouth should have stayed shut. Monte doesn’t just want your money; he wants your game, too. Be there or I give him the location.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “I have people looking into you. You play his game, get him his cash, and I won’t use the information. You don’t show up and don’t pay him, and he’ll know who you are and where to find his wife and child.”

  “What the fuck is your deal?”

  “Ask Hailey.” He turns and walks away.

  “Ask her what?”

  He doesn’t turn back.

  I look down at the card. It’s the golden ticket, the address to the tournament where I will play a game for the biggest prize of my life.

  He thinks I’m a gambler.

  But I’m not.

  —

  I pull up in front of Seed, a little dive on the east side of Vegas. I grab the card Monte’s man dropped on the table, my golden ticket. The ticket that will win the girl who has been blowing up my phone for the past twelve hours.

  I have ignored her calls and the calls from my brothers. I need focus, not distractions.

  I get out, walk up to the door that says “Closed,” and knock. When it opens, the chain still linked from the inside, I flash my card, and the door is opened fully. I shove the card in my pocket, knowing that if I have to leave to get more cash, this will get me back in.

  As I walk in and all eyes settle on me, the bouncer puts his hand on my chest, stopping me.

  “Weapons get left at the door.”

  “I don’t have any with me.”

  “Go to the bar and get your chips. No cash at the tables. If you need more, you ask one of the men circulating. They can take you to the ATM.”

  I am dressed to impress. Old habits die hard.

  I brought all the cash in my safe with me—thirty grand. Buy-in for first round is a grand.

  I walk up to the bar and hand the man twenty grand. I am given a look that tells me it’s a big exchange. This makes me a little nervous. If twenty grand is a lot, that means there may not be enough money to be made. There are thirty men here, and I need all their money and then some.

  The man running the game starts throwing names into a container.

  “Game starts in ten minutes. There are still a few players who have been invited and haven’t shown yet. We’ll give them the respect they deserve and wait. In the meantime, feel free to grab a drink.”

  I look around, seeing some familiar faces and some not so familiar.

  “Aces?” I look to my left and see the kid who parks my ride at Aria.

  “Wheels, man, what are you doing off the Strip?” I shake his hand and pat his back.

  “Coming to play the game.”

  “You aren’t gonna win like that, man.” I laugh.

  “Whatcha mean?”

  “I’m gonna give you some advice, okay?”

  “Yeah, that would be great.” He smiles.

  “You don’t play the game; you are the game. No other way to win. Watch the players, the cards; forget about the game and winning—be the game. Own it.” I wink. “You feel me?”

  “Yeah, man, I feel you.” He smiles. “That’s it? That’s your secret?”

  “Our secret.”

  He takes in a deep breath.

  “Throw the nerves out the window.”

  “Done,” he says, nodding.

  “How much did you bring with ya?”

  “Everything I had. A grand is all, but it’s a start,” he says, flipping the chip in his hand.

  I reach in my pocket and pull out a chip of my own. “Another secret: Start with two grand when you play cards. As soon as you win that much and still have the original two grand to play with, pocket it for the next game, and don’t go digging for it if you run out. Don’t let the game play you.”

  “Own it.” He nods.

  I hand him the chip I pulled out. “Tonight, you put away three grand. Give me this back when it’s all over.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep.”

  “Fuck, thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me—pay me back at the end.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  The room has filled up, and a man stands in the center of everyone. “Welcome to Seed. I’m Scott, the owner of this fine establishment. Thank you all for being part of tonight’s festivities. The game is five-card draw. You all know the rules. The house gets two percent when you cash in your chips at the end of the night. One-thousand-dollar buy-in at the start of each hand. You lose it, and you leave. Names will be drawn in a moment. First four at table one, second four at table two, and so one. Each round will end when there is one man sitting at each table. Each advancement requires a grand more for your buy-in. If you wanna leave, you cash in your chips every time you exit. Doesn’t matter to us; we still get our two percent. When we’re down to the final four players, we play at one table. Good luck, everyone.”

  The name “Aces” comes up: I’m at table three, my favorite. I sit down and look around at my crew. All are hungry and intense. All of them are easy reads. I own this game.

  Timmons is at table six, and my buddy Wheels is at seven. They are not a distraction, but when the name “Hard Knocks” is called to table eight, that shit distracts me. I look up to see the back of a chick wearing a hippie helmet, a half shirt, jeans, and black combat boots. I don’t stare, ’cause I know the chick I left home is fucking home.

  Then I hear Monte laugh, and I look up again. I follow his eyes to table eight, and staring at me is the fucking doppelganger of Hailey. At least I wish it was. I shake my head and start to stand, but she shakes her head, and then I hear the announcer call Hendrix and Jagger to table ten. I wonder, how the hell did they get in?

  I look over to see they both have shit-eating grins on their faces, but the fuckers won’t look at me. I glance back at Hailey, and she bites her lip to keep from smiling.

  I turn around in my chair and want to bounce my fucking head off the green felt, but I don’t.

  My brothers are here, so I know all is gonna be okay. Regardless of how tonight goes, I am gonna get Hailey out of here safely and then drag her by that fucking hippie helmet to Detroit. The part of this that is rocking my world right now is that if she didn’t know it already, she knows now that win, lose, or draw, she is part of a family who has her back.

  By round five, my table is cleared; I’ve taken all the motherfucking chips. I have never before felt the emotion of the game being all or nothing. But now, with my need to show a chick I can take care of her—not only can, but want to—I am feeling the electricity of the Vegas lights on steroids, and I’m not even on the Strip.

  When I glance over at her, I see she is killing it, too. My brothers are playing it safe, but holding their own. My man Wheels is raking it in, looking like he is on top of the world, reminding me of myself when I first came here.

  By round ten, I am waiting for my table to be filled with players again.

  I glance around and notice there is, at the very least, half a million dollars in chips lying on the tables.

  I look at Monte’s pile, and he has about a hundred Gs. However, my hippie-helmet-wearing, platinum-pussy little momma has twice as much.

  As both of their tables are cleared, I watch my brothers fold.

  They walk by, and Jagger pats my shoulder. “We’ll be right outside, man.”

  Monte sees them, and his face hardens. Then I wink at him, and his face turns beet fucking red.

  We’re finally down to the last two tables—and Hailey and Monte are at the same fucking one.

  “Kill it, little momma,” I say from across the room, making her laugh.

  “Can you tell the douche over there to shut the fuck up?” Monte sneers. />
  “Not against the rules to speak, is it?” I ask the dealer at my table.

  “No, sir.” He tries not to laugh.

  “Good.” I look across the room. “Hey, baby.” Hailey looks up and rolls her eyes, which turns me on. “When it’s just you and dipshit, make sure you put your stacks of chips in like I give it to you, not how he did.”

  “You mother—” Monte starts to stand.

  “If you leave the table during a hand, you forfeit,” the dealer at their table warns.

  “You hear him, Monte? When I take your money, I want to have earned it,” Hailey says.

  “Bitch, you’ve never earned shit in your life,” he snaps at her.

  “Baby, you’ve got this. Now rock it,” I say, looking over my shoulder at her and giving her a wink.

  She smiles. “I’ll rock it all right.”

  “You know you’re getting me hard over here.”

  “Oh, my God, would you shut up?” she says, laughing out loud, freely.

  “Only if you ask me nicely.”

  Her face turns pink as she looks down and shakes her head.

  I am the last man standing at my table again. I have just under two hundred grand, and I can’t wait to take that motherfucker’s money.

  I get up and walk to the bar to get a drink, eyeing the four people still left at her table. One is some guy who talks like he’s from Texas, with a ten-gallon hat and cowboy boots that look like they’ve never seen dirt. Then there’s my boy Wheels, plus Monte and Hailey.

  Tex pushes all his chips in the middle, and Hailey’s eyes widen. Then I watch them brighten before she swallows hard and bites the inside of her lip. Her tell.

  She knows she’s almost there. In bed, that’s my sign to go harder and as deep as she can take me to push her over the edge before she comes.

  She lays her cards facedown, then looks up at me as she pushes all her chips in, and I adjust my semi-chub, clench my jaw, and mouth, “Hot as fuck.”

  Monte folds and sits back.

  The hand is played, the cards flipped, and my girl has four fucking aces.

  “Damn, darlin’.” Tex’s jaw drops. “You just took all my money.”

  She smiles. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks needed; it’s a game. You won fair and square.” He stands up and walks to the door as Hailey looks at her chips.

  She stands up. “I’d like to cash in.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? The game isn’t over, Hard Knocks. The bitch who left me would never walk out while there’s still something to be taken.”

  “I didn’t take shit from you except for years and years of mental abuse, you piece of shit! What did I ever do to deserve the treatment you gave to me? What did—”

  I walk over and take her hand. “Come on. He doesn’t deserve a second of your time, not one more fucking word from your lips, not anything.”

  While she’s hugging me and crying, the owner of the bar brings over her cash. “Three hundred forty thousand dollars for a girl who calls herself ‘Hard Knocks.’ I don’t think that fits you anymore. After our cut, you have three hundred thirty-three thousand two hundred.”

  “Give him three hundred thousand.” She points at Monte. “Now, you bastard, now I have paid you back for the seven years that you think I owe you. Tell me I have your word that you and I are even.”

  “You trust his word?” I laugh.

  “Yes. In business, his word is good. Monte, look at me and tell me my debt to you is paid in full.”

  “It’s all here. We’re square. Have a nice life with this fucking player. He’ll leave you for someone who’s more his type, and you’ll wish you were still warming my bed. But you never will again, you whore. When he drops you for some bitch that’s not so low-class, you’ll be trying to find the next warm bed—”

  “Baby, go outside; my brothers are waiting. I’ll be out as soon as I kick his ass.”

  Hesitantly, Hailey leaves as I move to the next round. I am placed at the table to play Monte and Wheels.

  “You ever look at her again, and I will poke your fucking eyes out. If you talk to her like that again, you lose your tongue. She paid you a debt that was complete and utter bullshit. Now you leave her the fuck alone.”

  “I have receipts for everything I paid for, so there is no bullshit involved. She never worked a day in her life and had the world by the balls—”

  “Then you fucked around on her and lost the only fucking thing that matters—family. Someday, your little check-and-balance sheets will be all paid up, and no one will ever have to deal with your sorry ass again. Then what will you be left with?”

  “Why, Marisa of course,” he says in a malicious tone.

  “Bullshit. Hailey just ensured—”

  “If she wants to walk with my kid, she needs to pay the kid’s tab, too. If not, I’ll see them in court.”

  “You sick son of a bitch.”

  “The kid’s tab isn’t as much. Two hundred seventy-five thousand is all.”

  “Then I’ll buy that one right here, right now.”

  “You don’t have the chips, Aces.”

  “I’ll go get the rest,” I hiss, and start to stand.

  “No, sit your ass down and earn it. This will be the last game you ever play.”

  “It’s not about playing the game anymore. It’s about winning it all.”

  The stakes have never been higher. Hailey bought her way out, but the little one is still on the table. Her daughter is the prize, and Hailey didn’t even know it. If I have my way, she’ll never have to know just how low her ex really went.

  In the first hand, the motherfucker calls my bluff, and I lose it all. How? I played a game. I wasn’t the game; Marisa was.

  As I stand to leave, Wheels stops me.

  “Man, I know you got two Gs in your pocket, so play it.”

  “It’s not how I play the game.”

  “The game is different now, right?” He is pleading with me. “Man, don’t lose hope.

  I put my chips on the table and lose, but so does Monte. Wheels is rolling in it, and in a situation that wasn’t involving a kid’s future, I would have done cartwheels for him. But I was fucked.

  The dealer looks at me. “You in or out?”

  “Fucker’s out of money.” Monte laughs.

  “I have a house.”

  “You’re pussy-whipped,” Monte taunts. “I don’t want your house. I want your money and your game.”

  I ignore him.

  “How much for the house?” Wheels asks, looking at his stack of chips.

  “Two hundred seventy-five thousand dollars,” I answer without hesitation.

  “How much is it worth?”

  “Three hundred fifty,” I tell him.

  He looks down. Monte looks pissed.

  “Furnished, it’s worth three hundred seventy-five, minimum. It’s in a gated community, and I owe nothing on it. Neither will you, Wheels—”

  “I’ll take it in trade.” Monte laughs.

  “Fuck you,” I hiss. “You don’t deserve it.”

  “And he does? He doesn’t deserve a house that can profit him a hundred grand. You’re no player,” Monte spits out.

  “The game’s changed.” I keep my eyes on Wheels.

  “Deal,” he says.

  “Deal?” I raise my eyebrow at him.

  “Yeah, man, deal. Wait, throw in the car.”

  “Wheels man, I swear you’re killing me here. Best fuck pad ever, but the car, she’s mine.”

  “Fine.” He laughs. “Damn. Damn. Damn! When can I move in?”

  “We can go get the legal shit done tomorrow.” I grab my phone out of my pocket and hand it to him. “Send yourself a text so we have each other’s contact information.”

  “You gonna hand him that kind of cash on his word?” Monte sneers.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  Once Wheels cashes in and gives me the cash, I turn and hand it to Monte. “You come near her or the kid again, and I’ll
kill you. It’s cheaper to hire a hit than be manipulated by you again.”

  The dealer asks, “Who’s in?” I turn to leave. It doesn’t matter anymore. Game is over—and I won it all.

  I walk outside, Wheels following, and see Hailey pacing. I shake the kid’s hand, give him the address, and tell him to swing by tomorrow so we can head to the lawyer’s.

  “Did you win?” Jagger asks me.

  “Biggest win of my life. Let’s go grab some food. Then you three get some sleep before you head home to that girl.”

  “You’re coming with, right?” Hailey asks.

  “I’ll be a day behind you. I’m gonna drive home.”

  “Why?”

  “ ’Cause I don’t plan on coming back here anytime soon.”

  “You sure?” Hendrix asks.

  “Like I said, I hit the jackpot today. I have what I need from Vegas. Now all I want is to go back to Rock City with my family.” A calm washes over me. “But first, what the fuck were you two thinking bringing her here?”

  Chapter 14

  Hailey

  It has all been a whirlwind. After I finished up at work, Olivia could tell I couldn’t handle the thought of Morrison being at the tournament without me. Without allowing myself to overthink everything, I mustered enough courage to leave my baby girl with Livi to board a red-eye to Vegas with Hendrix and Jagger. Family at my back as I faced my past—that’s what Livi said as we left.

  I didn’t know how to take it all in. I just knew that, at the end of the day, I had to pay my debt myself. I couldn’t let Morrison do it.

  Before my nerves could get the best of me, I was at the tables. I was in the tournament.

  I tried to keep my expression locked into the look of an easygoing person. I tried to maintain my composure, even knowing everything was literally on the line in this moment.

  Sitting down, I ran my fingers over the felt where the table meets the wood trim. The contrast was strange when you felt the soft green liner and then moved to the gloss trim.

  Rough and smooth. Soft and slick.

  Much like the table, I needed to remain soft and slick through it all. Tonight, it truly was winner takes all. Tonight, I took back my freedom. Tonight, I commanded my choices.

  It was easy to get sucked in. There was a moment when I wanted to stay and continue to play. I wanted to up the ante and see if I could make a profit.