by Evelyn Glass
Beast flipped his hole cards showing a Queen of Spades and a Five of Clubs.
“Three Fives and Two Pair. Three of a Kind wins,” the dealer stated.
Beast raked in the chips and began to stack them into neat piles. “Sorry it didn’t work out the way you planned,” he said with a cold smile.
Neil stood and reached behind LeMay to shake Beast’s hand. “Game’s not up yet,” he murmured before he released Beast’s hand and stepped away. Beast watched as he was led away by a production assistant for his post-game interview.
“What did he mean by that?” Fawn asked, looking at Beast.
Beast grinned as The Professor tossed in the blind. “Probably that I still have you five assholes to beat.”
Fawn grinned back. “If you keep winning, I’m going to have Shayna kiss me.”
***
Beast displayed no reaction as the River, the Five of Spades, was flipped, filling in his Straight Flush. This was it. This was the hand. If he could draw The Professor into a duel, he could finish it here.
They’d been playing for nearly four hours, and it was down to Beast and The Professor. They were nearly even, their two large piles of chips accounting for the entire one hundred million dollars.
Beast scanned the cards again. There was a pair of Fives on the board, so the best hand Paul could have was Four of a Kind.
“Five,” Beast said, tossing another five million into the pot.
“Five, and fifteen more,” Paul countered.
Beast sat for a moment then smiled. Even if he couldn’t lure Paul in, the thirty million in the pot would be a nice bump. “You know, I’m tired. It’s been a long two weeks.” He shoved his entire stack into the pile. “I raise you, what,” he paused as he quickly did he math, “twenty-two million.”
The entire room gasped. With what Beast just pushed into the pot, there was almost seventy million dollars riding on this one hand.
The Professor swallowed. That was unexpected. He could fold now and preserve what chips he had, but he’d lose the almost thirty million he’d already invested betting on his four Fives. Beast would be up by a significant amount, and he was no fool. He’d bleed him and bleed him, and bleed some more until it was all over. Beast could be sitting on a Straight Flush, but he was almost sure he’d seen the Four of Spades on the table a hand or two ago. Wasn’t he? He’s trying to buy the pot. He’s got shit and he’s trying to bluff his way out of it. Paul smiled. I suspect you bought the pot a couple of times already today, but not this time, junior.
“Clock,” the dealer said, warning Paul that he had thirty seconds to make up his mind and either bet or fold.
If he’s got the Four and Eight, I’m screwed, but I don’t think he does. “Call,” Paul said. He didn’t bother throwing in the chips. It didn’t matter because this tournament was over, one way or the other.
The audience gasped again. Nobody had ever seen a hundred million dollar pot before, and likely never would again. The Professor and Beast flipped their hole cards and Paul burst into laughter. It helped that he’d actually only lost fifty thousand, and it wasn’t even his money.
“You lucky bastard!” The two players rose and reached across the table to shake hands. “I’m sorry I lost, but I’m not sorry I lost to you. You’re one hell of a poker player.”
“Thank you, Paul. So are you.”
Shayna pushed her way through the eliminated players as they clustered around Beast offering their congratulations. “You won,” she whispered before she kissing him thoroughly, the audience oohing before laughing.
As the cameras watched, Beast picked out chips, making a stack of twenty-five five hundred dollar chips, and slid them to the dealer. “Thank you.”
The woman scooped the chips up and dropped them into her pocket. “Thank you. Congratulations.”
He then made a larger stack of one hundred one thousand dollar chips, and slid them to Shayna. “For lady luck.”
“Conor, I can’t!” He’d been tipping her five hundred dollars each night, and she’d started accepting them without complaint, but this was beyond anything that was reasonable.
“You can. I want you to.” He grinned. “I can afford it.”
She stared at him, struggling not to cry, until he glanced at the stack, then back to her, and gave her a single nod. With a whimper she slid the stack to her, taking the chip bag a production assistant handed her.
For the next twenty minutes, the poker room was a mad house. She did another quick interview in the green room then stood with Beast as Trevor handed Beast a giant check for fifty million dollars before congratulating him and shaking his hand. Before the cameras rolled, Trevor had explained the check was just for show and Beast would receive a wire transfer for his fifty million, less what he’d given away as tips and taxes, within two hours.
***
Shayna slipped away and allowed Beast to enjoy the limelight. He deserved it. He’d be a couple of hours yet as he still had to sit for his interview. She first stopped at a cage and converted her chips to currency, then went to their room to shower and change. She didn’t want to attend the wrap party dressed as a hostess. As she showered, she wondered what would become of her and Conor. Now that the excitement of the tournament was over, would they go their separate ways? She hoped not, but she made up her mind that if that were what he wanted, she wouldn’t beg. It’s been a good week, full of fun…and fantastic fucking, she admitted with a smile, but nothing I won’t get over.
Out of the shower she picked over what remained of the clothes she’d packed and decided a plain white shirt and jeans was the best of her limited options. She hadn’t planned on attending a party, but she took comfort that most of the people there would be dressed no better.
***
They mingled at the party, the eight players and all the production staff. There were no cameras, only laughter, cake, and free-flowing booze. She felt like she was on top of the world. Beast had been at her side for the last two hours, giving every indication that he still enjoyed her company. She’d be starting her new job in a week, that asshole Dr. Hench had finally been dealt with, and Conor had given her enough money, along with the twenty-five thousand the show had paid her, that she could almost eliminate her student debt.
“Do you think it’s too soon to leave?” he muttered under his breath as Martin stepped away, leaving them alone for a moment.
“Why? Do you have someplace else to be?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Don’t know. Anywhere you want to go so long as it’s away from here.”
Shayna giggled as Fawn and Paul, the last two players in the game with Beast, approached. “Here,” she said, taking his glass. “Let me freshen that up.”
“Talisker,” she said to the bartender, sliding Beast’s glass across the bar.
As the woman turned to freshen his drink, Orson stepped up beside her. She took a step away, not wanting to be near the man.
“Tell your boyfriend to be smart. This isn’t over.”
“He knows all about you and The Scarred,” she sneered as she accepted the drink.
“Good. Then he knows what they’re capable of.” He took a gulp of his drink and smiled at her coldly. “I’ll be seeing you,” he rumbled before turning away.
She hurried back to Beast, plastering her work smile on her face as she approached. “Will you two excuse us?” she said tugging at Beast’s arm. “We have something we need to do.”
Fawn smiled, remembering her night with Beast. “Yes, I imagine you do.”
“Orson just threatened me!” she hissed after dragging him into a quiet corner. “He told me to tell you to be smart and do the right thing. That this wasn’t over and you knew what The Scarred were capable of.”
Beast scanned the room, looking for the man, but he was nowhere to be seen. “We’re safe here, so don’t worry. I’ll deal with Neil Orson.”
He pulled his phone and dialed a number. “Rachel. I need
a car and four men to Tops right now. Get me Hightower.”
“What are you going to do?”
“We’re taking you somewhere safe.”
“Where?”
“The clubhouse. We can protect you there and it won’t cost six hundred a night. Hightower! Send a couple of brothers to pay Neil Orson a visit. When they find him, have them sit on him until I get there. He and I have a few things to discuss.”
“What’s happened?”
“He threatened Shayna and confirmed The Scarred connection. I’m bringing her to the clubhouse, then we’re paying a visit to The Scarred.”
“Roger that, Mate. I’ll set it up.”
***
Four men surrounded her and Beast as they hustled her into the car and slammed the door behind her. “Hello, Shayna,” the man in the back seat said with a cultured British accent as he extended his hand. “I’m Hightower Nethercott. Glad to finally meet you.”
She shook the man’s hand as the Mercedes accelerated swiftly away. “Where’s Conor?”
“He’ll meet us at the clubhouse. Don’t worry, you’re safe.”
“Why didn’t he come with us?”
“He’s bringing his bike. We’re going to drop you at the clubhouse so we can keep you safe, then we’re going to go and put a stop to this nonsense.”
“Why don’t you turn this over to the police and let them handle it?”
“Two reasons. First, we have no proof – nothing that’s actionable anyway. Secondly, this is club business. We handle our own problems.”
“But—”
“Shayna, trust us. We know what we’re doing. Nothing is going to happen to you and we’ll make sure nothing happens to Beast. We’re about to break the back of the biggest pain in our arse, and there isn’t a man in this club who wouldn’t give his life for Beast’s.”
“The Scarred?”
“Yes. Once they’re gone then there won’t be another club in the city that can contest our control.”
“Why is that important? You make it sound like a protection racket or something.”
He smiled. “Because we can use that influence to keep the squabbles and infighting between the other clubs to a minimum. We become the police for when you can’t go to the police.”
“Like at that bar, whatever its name was?”
“Big Twins?”
“Yeah! That’s the place.”
“That’s right. Everyone knows that place is under our protection, so they mind their manners. We’ll do the same for the clubs in Vegas. When clubs come into conflict, if they can’t resolve it, they’ll bring it to us and we’ll try to work out a compromise.”
“And you can’t do that now, because?”
“Because The Scarred think they control the outlaw clubs.”
“So?”
“We’re the biggest club in Vegas and some of the smaller outlaw clubs keep pushing us. The Scarred put them up to it, and they do it thinking they’re protected. They’re wrong, but they keep trying.”
“I see. And once they’re out of the way, you will control the whole pie.”
“Smart lady.”
“Beautiful, too,” Rip added from behind the wheel.
“Terrible taste in men, though,” Tony said from the front seat, making the other two laugh.
***
“This shit stops, now,” Beast warned.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can order me around. I’m not a member of the Reapers anymore,” Grizzly rumbled, his voice as deep as thunder. Charles Grissel was a huge man, easily six-five with a deep chest and massive arms that he liked to cross in front of him to emphasize their size. Anyone looking at him would instantly understand how he obtained his nickname.
Beast and Grizzly were meeting at the same park where he and Jack had met the day before, but this was no friendly meeting. The small park was full of steely-eyed men staring at each other as their Presidents spoke between them.
“We know all about Orson and the tournament.”
“What about Orson?”
“That he’s in deep to you. That you’ve been playing games with the books to hide the losses. That the Russians are breathing down your neck. That you tried to rig the tournament to get an out. That’s why you killed Skellon. He found out. I’m warning you, Grizzly, you don’t want to fuck with us on this.” He didn’t have proof of most of what he said, but he could see in Grizzly’s eyes how close to the truth he was.
“You don’t know shit!” Grizzly spat. “Yeah, Orson owes us money. So what? We’ve got it covered. The rest, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Beast snorted and shook his head in disbelief. “Sure you don’t. Just remember, Shayna is under my protection and the protection of the Reapers. If you touch her, I’ll kill you myself. Is that clear enough for you?” Beast saw Grizzly tense in anger. “Come on, big man! You want to go right here?”
Grizzly glanced over Beast’s shoulder and saw the Reapers were ready to rumble. The Reapers may have crossed to the other side of the tracks, but they were still a club you didn’t want to fuck with.
“Keep your fucking nose out of our business before it gets cut off,” he snarled before he turned his back to Beast and stomped back to his lines.
The Reapers watched as the ten members of The Scarred funneled out of the park and roared away.
“He’s desperate,” Hightower said as he stepped up beside Beast. “They must be in deep.”
“Yeah, and nothing is more dangerous than someone who is desperate. We need to find Orson and find out what he knows.”
Hightower nodded. “Agreed, and before The Scarred do.”
***
When he returned to the clubhouse, he’d found Shayna playing pool, the brothers and sisters roaring and cheering as she sank another shot, unaware he was there as he watched her run the table.
“How’s she doing?” he asked as he sauntered over to stand beside Talley, arguably the best pool player in the club.
“She took me for two hundred fifty before I called it quits. She spotted Dell five balls and cleaned his clock, too. Nobody will play her for money anymore, but everybody wants to try their luck against her.”
“And?” he asked with a soft chuckle. He’d been on the receiving end of that cue a week ago.
“Oh, they’ve had luck all right. All bad. Once she gets a shot you might as well sit down. Have you seen her do that back the ball up shit? I think she’s good enough to go pro.”
“Hey, Conor!” Shayna called. “You feeling lucky tonight?” she asked as she chalked her cue.
The club roared in amusement and shoved him toward the table. He shucked his colors and tossed them into a chair before taking the cue from Rachel. “You’re on.”
“What are we betting?” she asked with a smile that lit up her entire face. The Reapers weren’t anything like she imagined them to be. Oh sure, some lacked the polish that Conor and Hightower had, but they were to a man, and woman, friendly and welcoming, and obviously cared about the Desert Reapers. They were like a big family, and she liked them.
Beast rubbed his chin a moment. “Same bet as before.”
“You’re on.” She dug in her pocket then handed the hundred she’d won from one of the brothers to Rachel, one of the few people whose name she could remember. “Hold that. This won’t take long.” She grinned as the entire club laughed. “I’ll even let you break.”
***
“You comfortable?” Beast asked as he followed Shayna into one of the two guest suites tucked into the back of the Desert Reapers clubhouse.
“This is nicer than my apartment,” Shayna said as Beast shut the door behind them. “Bigger, too.”
“You’re safe, that’s what matters.”
She melted into his arms and looked into his eyes. “Are you staying tonight?”
“If you’d like.”
“I’d like,” she purred. “How’d the meeting go?”
“No business,” he murmure
d as he placed a finger under her chin and tipped her face up to meet his. His kiss was surprisingly slow and sweet.
She sighed. “Let’s skip dinner and go straight to the after.”
“I didn’t win,” he teased.
“I don’t care.” She stretched for him, her desires ramping up, but he stepped back and turned her, pulling her back into him snuggly as he began a measured exploration of her neck. She squirmed her ass against his crotch, but he wouldn’t be hurried. Each time they’d fucked the sex had been explosive, none more so than last night, but tonight he was taking his time, his touch light as his fingers slowly caressed her.
