“Are you going to analyze my play or give me your money, old man?” I narrowed my eyes and growled under my breath. “Either way, I’ve already won.”
“Or are you bluffing?” He drummed his fingers against the felt.
“Calling it will cost you money, Saul.” I stared him down with the most ice-cold expression I could muster. “Like I said—I win either way.”
I played what some liked to call aggressive poker. It didn’t matter if I was sitting on trash or a gold mine, I talked shit until the cards were flipped over. Saul knew me too well, which didn’t exactly work to my advantage all of the time. We had been playing long enough for him to call my bluff when others would simply shit their pants and walk away. He was still a good opponent, though, because he was a challenge.
I didn’t get many challenges playing for pennies, but I didn’t like to risk more than I had. The high rollers didn’t like to play with me, and I didn’t like losing money to cocky assholes when the card odds eventually went the wrong direction. Saul was different. He had money to burn, and I needed the pot or I wasn’t going to leave the Bellagio with enough money to pay my rent. I was all in, all right. There would be food on the table and beer in my belly when we were done or I would be begging for scraps until I could find work again.
“Okay, old man—what are you going to do?” I put my hand on the table and stared.
“Ah, fuck it. I fold.” He tossed his cards down in disgust. “Let me guess, you had nothing?”
“You gotta pay to see the cards.” I smiled and pushed them face down towards the dealer.
If I show you that I was sitting on a losing hand, it might make you take a bigger risk next time. I can’t have that.
“Yeah, yeah. Well, I’m not paying for anything else today. Time for me to call it quits.” Saul gathered his remaining chips and started stacking them up.
I cashed out once I was done playing with Saul and looked around the Bellagio casino until I saw my best friend, Cole, sitting at the bar. He was drinking whiskey, so he must have had luck like mine. He usually didn’t get drunk until he had some money in his pocket, and if he came up short, he would still be playing. I considered picking up another game since there was still daylight left, but I had the money I needed to get by for a while. It was usually best to stop when I was ahead, otherwise I’d run into a tourist dumb enough to call my bluff because they had money to burn. My risks had to be calculated or else I’d be homeless. I walked over to the bar and took a seat.
“I’ll have a Bud Light.” I motioned to the bartender and then turned towards Cole. “You did good?”
“I can pay the rent, how about you?” He
turned towards me with a grin.
“Yep, same here.” I nodded quickly.
Cole and I had been best friends since we were kids. We both grew up in the dirty underbelly of Sin City, doing anything we could to get by. We joined the Marines when we turned eighteen, so we spent some time apart, but as soon as our tour was over, we ended up right back where we started. We weren’t fancy and we didn’t need much to get by. Gambling usually paid the bills and if that didn’t work out, there were usually security gigs we could pick up. We had done just about everything from running drugs to beating the fuck out of strangers in the underground fight clubs, but it had been a while since we delved into anything illegal. Ninety days in county for a joint before Nevada legalized weed was enough for me to realize how much I valued my freedom.
“So, are you ready for another random side-bet?” Cole lifted the glass of whiskey to his lips and grinned.
“It’s your turn, so I don’t really have a say in it, do I? Just follow the rules. Don’t be trying any of that stupid shit you tried last time.” I glared at him and sipped my beer.
Side-bets were a form of entertainment for us. We never bet money—not directly, at least. We had a lot more fun betting other things. Usually it was something simple, but Cole loved to push the envelope. As long as it didn’t break the rules, I had to accept the bet and the stakes. He’d have to do the same when it was my turn. There was a time when our bets had no limits, but once we got older, we had to institute a few rules. I wasn’t willing to walk into a convenience store and try to steal a pack of smokes like I did when I was fourteen. Cole didn’t seem to give a shit, he just liked pushing things as far as he could. He had already started drinking, so that didn’t bode well for whatever dastardly deed his filthy mind could cook up.
“Her.” Cole extended his hand and pointed at a curvy blonde that was dragging her luggage towards the front desk of the Bellagio. “I want to fuck her.”
“Okay, she’s hot.” I nodded and watched her ass sway as she walked. “But that’s a statement, not a bet.”
“I bet you can’t get her to fuck me.” Cold looked in my direction for a moment and then his eyes returned to the gorgeous goddess at the desk.
“So now I’m picking up bitches for you?” I raised my eyebrows. “I thought you were proud of your game.”
“I am, but she looks like a challenge. I’ll make it worth your while, though. I bet you can’t get her to fuck both of us.” He chuckled under his breath and drained his whiskey.
“Hmm.” I scratched my chin with my finger. “What are the stakes?”
“Obviously the stakes are her—look at her.” Cole turned his head towards me with a bewildered look on his face. “What more do you want?”
“Fine.” I exhaled sharply and nodded. “What the fuck are you going to make me do if I can’t convince her?”
“You gotta take my sister for another ride on the Ryker train.” A grin spread across Cole’s lips.
“Seriously?” I sighed and shook my head. “I fucked her like two months ago.”
“Yeah, and she misses you. Either way, you get your dick wet, right? The bet and the stakes are both within the boundaries of the rules.” Cole picked up his drink and tilted his head. “Right?”