by Nicole Hite
"How much do you owe, Dec?" Sam asked in a tiny voice.
"Almost fifty grand," he grimaced.
"I can tap into my trust fund and we can get you out of this right now. Walk away with no strings attached," she offered.
"I can't let you do that, darlin'. This is my mess. I need to get myself out of it. You don't deserve to be dragged into it," he said, brushing her pink cheek, and kissing her forehead.
"What happens if you lose tonight?" Sam looked at him apprehensively as she ran her hand across his chest.
"I'm...I'm not exactly sure," he fumbled. "Something tells me those guys over there will have a say in the matter," he stated as he nodded to the beefy bouncers guarding the doors staring at Sami and Dec.
Ashley was staring, too - scanning Sam from head to toe, licking her lips at her obvious interest. Clearly, Ashley had intentions of her own, which had nothing to do with Demi. A shiver ran down Sam's spine thinking at the annihilation Ashley could bring. She was beautiful, but Sam could tell she could bring the pain, whether from her own fists, or from her bouncers. One way or another, she was going to get what she wanted.
"Fine, but if things start to go south you are pulling out. Deal?" Sam looked at Declan with sorrow in her eyes, horrified as to what would happen if he lost everything. She couldn't bear to see anything happen to him.
"Deal," he leaned in and gave her the deepest kiss he could muster. Sam felt it all the way to her toes the way he took control of their hunger.
"Are we going to sit around all night watching this ridiculous display, or are we going to play?" Ashley asked with a sense of repugnance.
Making their way into the game room, Sam scanned the room. Acclimating herself to her surroundings, she noticed one giant poker table in the middle of the room. At the table were four other gentlemen, one of which stood out immediately - Cory. Son of a bitch.
“You piece of shit. You couldn’t just let me go easily, could you? Why the fuck are you here Cory?”
“What? I can’t I enjoy a lovely game of poker with these lovely angels over here,” he gave Demi and Ashley a wink.
“Fuck you,” she flipped Cory the bird as she took her seat behind Declan.
Cory must have paid his way into this game just to try and humiliate Declan. Hell, he was probably there to humiliate Sam as well. His presence was only validation that Cory was the lowest of lows. He was hell-bent on screwing up her life, and any relationship she tried to have for that matter. And for what? He was the one who fucked up, and Sam had zero intentions of going back to him. She found her guy, and he was perfect...well, almost.
"Cory," Declan sounded off as he took a seat with the other players.
"Declan," he smirked at Sam avoiding the acknowledgement all together. He gave her his sinister smile, as if he knew something she didn't.
“How’s the nose, bro? Declan prodded.
"I hope you’re ready to see your boy go down in flames, baby," Cory gloated.
"We'll see about that, and stop calling me baby, asshole," Sam lashed back.
"I like her spunk," Ashley chimed in. "Are you boys ready to get down to business, or are we going to continue this pissing contest? I have plenty other players on standby if you want to leave. Just think about the consequences before you make that decision," she glared at Declan.
"Aye, no problem, Ashley. The fella and I were just having a bit of a laugh. No worries."
"Okay, boys, buy in is ten grand. The only house rule I have is no collusion or cheating. You can talk shit all day long, but if you slow up my table because you can't keep your shit together, you're gone, and your money is mine. And if you fuckers splash my pot, you're gone. I don't tolerate that bullshit. Did everyone give their cell phones to Jimmy?"
The group agreed as the dealer shuffled the crisp new deck.
"Big blind will begin at one thousand dollars, starting with Mr. Declan in seat two," the dealer announces. "Small blind will begin at five hundred dollars, starting with Ms. Ashley in seat one."
Sam settled into her seat behind Declan, next to one of Ashley's bouncers. She couldn't see much, but she could feel the icy daggers from across the room. Demi was reclining in a lounge chair with a martini in hand. She was convinced Cory had fucked her at some point or another.
After the two cards were dealt, the dealer turned to Ashley's guests.
“Seat 3, call, fold or raise?”
"Call," a husky gentleman named Paul answered.
"Call," the next burly gentleman name Glen responded.
"Call," Cory responded, hoarding his cards away like a smuggler.
"Ms. Ashley? Call, fold, or raise?" the dealer stated sweetly.
"Call," she offered sweetly.
"Pot's right. Here's the flop," the dealer announced as he laid down three cards in front of the table. "Mr. Declan, you're up."
Arching her head from her seat, she could barely make out that the dealer had dealt a King of Spades, Jack of Clubs and Eight of Hearts. Not much to work with, but it was a start. Glancing at Declan's hand, he was harboring an Ace of Clubs and a King of Diamonds. So far he had a pair of Kings, Ace high, which was great for a first hand.
"I will raise five hundred dollars."
"Paul?"
"Fold," he regretfully offered.
"Glen?
"Fold," Glen stated right out of the gate.
"Cory?"
"I'll see your five hundred and raise you five hundred."
"Ashley?"
"I'll match that."
"Declan?"
"Aye, me as well."
Sam felt a sense of confidence in Declan's voice, which put her mind at ease. She just hoped it stayed that way. Cory was bouncing his knee and biting his cuticles, which usually meant he was edgy. He was terrible at controlling his emotions.
After the river had been displayed, Sam sat back to see who would take the first round. The pot was set at nearly ten thousand dollars. She was confidant Declan would take it, the way the cards laid out. Ashley displayed her cards first – pair of Jacks. Declan displayed his – pair of Kings, Ace high. Then it was Cory's turn – three of a kind, King high. In one round, Declan had lost thousands going to an arrogant Cory.
For several rounds Declan swept the board until there were only three players left – him, Cory, and Ashley. The remaining players had failed miserably, and had taken their leave. Now up to almost sixty grand in his arsenal, Declan could easily leave the table and pay Ashley back. But that's not how this was going to play out. There would only be one man standing with a hefty pot of one hundred fifty thousand dollars in hand.
Sam could easily see how Declan had gotten himself into the situation he was in. It seemed nearly impossible for him not to. She was fairly impressed he wasn't in deeper debt the way they were playing these hands. She fidgeted in her chair as the blinds and bets began to escalate to ridiculous heights. Gnawing on her fingernails, she was almost too frightened to look any longer.
Settled between Declan's hands was a Ten of Spades and Nine of Hearts. Already, this was going to be a tricky hand. The flop showed a Seven of Diamonds, Six of Diamonds, and an Eight of Diamonds. A straight was spectacular, but that was still a risky hand. The pot lay in front of them, Cory insisted on growing it until he was completely out of chips.
"Say goodbye to your boyfriend, Sami," Cory heckled as he anticipated the last card to close down the river.
"Last card is...Six of Spades."
Her body and mind told her not to freak out, but she was certain Declan was taking this hand. Only then would you be able to wash her hands free of Cory for good.
"Seat 5, Mr. Cory, show your hand."
"Three of a kind, fucker, beat that," Cory reveled as his Aces graced the table.
"That's pretty good, but I think my flush is a little better," Ashley gave him a wicked smirk.
Cory's face was of dejection as Ashley laid it out for him. Sam didn't particularly like Ashley, but at least she beat Cory. Seeing Ashley's ha
nd only set in the fact that Declan had just barely lost. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He was down to thirty thousand when Ashley was sitting pretty at one hundred twenty thousand dollars. How was he supposed to survive at that point?
Rage, grief, and defeat covered Sam's face as the certainty of the next hand set in. Declan could only afford to play one last hand and he had to win big to stay alive.
"Declan, Declan, Declan," Ashley taunted. "I feel we are at a very peculiar spot at the moment. You don't have enough to pay me back, yet you barely have enough to match me in play. What shall we do about this?"
Sam watched Declan, pleading him to back out, but she could not deny the persistence in his eyes. She needed to have faith in her man, even if that meant sacrificing herself.
"What about me?" Sam offered out of nowhere.
"What about you?" Ashley looked confused, yet intrigued.
"I see the way you look at me, Ashley. If you win, I will go home with you, but only for one night."
"Sam. I can't let you do that. That's insane, darlin'," Declan whispered in her ear.
"Can you win?" she questioned him with an intense glare.
The two stared at each other for a while before Declan pulled her in for a deep kiss. Brushing his thumb across her cheek, "You are far too good for me."
"That's not what I asked," she grinned, leaning into his palm.
"Aye, I have my lucky charm right here. I can't lose."
"I win, I get the girl for a night."
"And if Declan wins, he owes you nothing; his debt is wiped clean," Sam bargained with Ashley.
"You got a deal, baby cakes. Demi and I would love to have a little fun for the night. Isn't that right, D?"
Walking around the table to stand behind Sam, Demi ran her hand down Sam's blonde hair. Jerking away, Sam glared at Demi with anger.
"She does look...delicious. It will be fun to have a new plaything. And my girl will win. You can bet your ass on that...oh wait, you did," she and Ashley laughed in devious unison.
"Sam, I don't know if this is a good idea," Declan exclaimed.
"You said you could win, Mr. Lucky. Now, win!" she smiled as she kissed him deeply.
"Time to play, cowboy," Ashley shifted herself to face Declan. "Seeing as we know how this is going to play out, let's cut the bullshit and toss in your chips, baby. Good luck and let the best man win," Ashley snickered.
"You can do this, baby," Sam whispered into Declan's waiting ear. Rubbing her thigh under the table, he gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Sam rose from her chair and made her way to her previous seat behind Sam. The last thing he needed right now was a distraction. Crossing her legs, she eyed Demi from across the room who was now blowing kisses her way. She couldn't merely blame herself or Declan for getting her into this situation; Vivienne was the one who sent her on this God forsaken mission to interview Demi.
Then again, had she not seen the initial interaction between Declan and Demi, she never would have questioned Declan's loyalty as much as she did. Damn you, Demi Pepper. Damn her and her blood money. Her and Ashley reveled in the sucker punches of innocent people. They took advantage of Declan and his situation. Their need to feed on the weak infuriated Sam. She was convinced that the illegal poker money was her funds for her design business. I guess you can buy happiness, and fame.
Although Sam wasn't particularly of fan of Demi herself, she did respect the designer she was. It's too bad that her brand was based on a giant lie. If this ever got out, her reputation, and deals would be dismantled. The sad part about it all - she was going to walk away from this table and out of their lives, Scott free, the injustice of it all.
The dealer dealt two cards to both Declan, and Sam. On previous hands Sam was able to peek, but not this time. Her only indications were facial expressions, and neither one was giving anything away. Not a raised brow, bouncing knee or sweaty forehead.
"Here's the flop," the dealer announced.
Again, not a peep from either one. Lying on the table before them was a Ten of Clubs, Jack of Clubs, and a Queen of Clubs. The potential was within reach. She just wished she could see their hands. Maybe that would settle her racing heartbeat.
The tension was mounting as the forth card was laid to rest on the emerald table – a Queen of Spades. The air in the room was dead silent. No one said a thing; she didn't even think anyone was breathing the way the suspense was mounting.
"Seat 1, Ms. Ashley, show your hand," the dealer announced.
With a sly grin on her face, Ashley flipped her two cards through her perfectly manicured fingers - two Queens.
"Seat 1 has four of a kind," the dealer offered.
Sam's heart sank to her toes. How could Declan possibly beat that? Visions of her sacrificed body played over, and over in her mind. She had laid it all out on the line, and now she was going to be two women's bitch for the night. Two women she despised.
"Seat 2, Mr. Declan, show your hand," the dealer asked.
With a stone face, Declan flipped his cards. She could visibly see the sigh leave his chest as the cards hit the table - Ace of Clubs and King of Clubs.
"Seat 2 has a royal flush - and winner."
It took every effort for Sam not to jump up from her chair, sticking her tongue out at the women. They had been schooled, and now Declan was free. Free to have a real relationship, not one built on hiding things, or suspicion. Free at a fighting chance at something truly good.
"Well played, Declan. I seemed to have underestimated you. It's too bad. We were really looking forward to a night with your lovely lady. Maybe next time?" Ashley tried to sweet-talk Declan.
"Not a chance in hell, Ashley. I'm done," Declan declared.
"Such a shame. You could have joined," Ashley ran her finger across Declan's cheek.
Snatching her hand away from Declan's face, Sam turned to face Ashley.
"Lay a hand on him again, and I will make you regret ever setting eyes on my man, got me?"
"How adorable. So defensive. Come on, Demi. Time to go," Ashley flicked her wrist at her lap dog. Ashley had her so trained, she wasn’t even cognizant of the trouble she would be in if the feds ever found out about her little gambling escapade. Only time would tell if their actions caught up to them.
9
“It’s all for the greater good.”
"You know, you're quite cute when you sleep," Declan smiled at Sam as they lay side by side in her bed the next morning.
Rubbing the sleep from her face, "Why do you say that? Are you watching me sleep you weirdo?"
Laughing together, "You have this little giggle that sneaks through when you're having a good dream. At least I hope they are good dreams. Perhaps dreams of me running naked around your apartment?"
"I'm sure Ariel and Owen would LOVE that," she chuckled as she stroked his scruffy cheek.
"Who knows what those two do when we aren't here," he smiled, brushing a strand of blonde hair away from her eye.
"So what are your plans now that you’re my sugar daddy?"
"I'd never thought I'd hear that in my lifetime."
"You won it fair and square. You should be proud," Sam encouraged.
"I don't know why I'm shocked, I had you there by my side. I'm sorry I had to keep it a secret. I didn't want you to get involved, or hurt for that matter. You honestly saved my ass, babe. I never would have thought of that genius plan."
"I was planning to go full carpet muncher for you. That must mean something," she giggled.
"I can't even believe that came out of your mouth too. What were you thinking?" Declan probed.
"I knew you could do it. I knew you wouldn't let me down. That, and you were sexy as hell stomping all over Cory's ass."
"That was kind of hot, wasn't it?" he scooted closer to her in bed, and wrapped her in his arms.
"You have no idea," she began stroking his growing member.
Just as the two were getting nice and cozy, Sam's cell phone began to ring. Eyeing the
screen, Sam nearly chucked the phone out the window. Rolling onto her back she contemplated whether she wanted to answer the phone or not.
"Who is it, A stór?" Declan questioned.
"My sister, Maggie," she said as sadness laced her quiet voice.
"Answer it," Dec proposed.
"But..."
"Rip the Band-Aid."
Before the call went to voicemail, Sam answered the phone to hear a sobbing Maggie. The cries tore her to shreds, and shattered the icy exterior she had been holding strong for so long. Even though her crimes were ghastly, she was still her sister, and her sister was in agony.
"Hey, Mag-Pie," Sam answered as she rolled onto her back.
"Sam-Sam, is that you," Maggie sniffed back.
"Yeah, Mags, it's me."
"I'm so sorry, Sami..." her crying was out of control.
"Mags, sweetie, you have to calm down. Breathe."
"I...I...I can't stand for you to be mad at me," she coughed.
"Honey, when was the last time you slept? You don't sound good," Sami sat up in bed suddenly troubled.
"I...I don't know the last time I slept," she confessed.
"Where are you? I'm coming to get you," Sam climbed out of her warm and comfy bed.
"Umm...some motel on Beach Street I think. It’s white with a pink roof."
"What are you doing there? Why aren't you at your apartment?" Sam sounded concerned.
"I was kicked out of my apartment weeks ago. I've been staying here, and there, with friends, with Cory for a while, and then..."
"And what?"
"And...with strangers."
"Dammit Maggie, you gotta cut this shit out. You could get seriously injured."
"I...I know, but Bee didn't get it, and you...you hated me," she bawled.
"I could never truly hate you, Mag-Pie. Yes, you do some pretty stupid shit, but I will always love you," Sam affirmed as the tears began to stream down her face.
"Sam-Sam, I need help."
"Hang tight, I'm coming to get you.
"Okay," Maggie reacted almost inaudible.
