Player: Stone Cold MC

by Carmen Faye

  “So, you want to tell me what this is all about?” she asked, not looking up at me.

  “I thought we could order something first, wind down, and get used to each other.”

  She looked up at me with a poker face. I couldn’t read what she was thinking or feeling at all, and I liked to think that I could read people well enough. Man, she was good. If we could pull this off…

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll have white wine…and the chicken.”

  Quick decisions. No waffling. She had so many pluses. I nodded and lifted my hand to flag a waitress. She was at our table a minute later, taking our orders. I ordered Alex what she wanted, chose the same main course, and asked for a beer instead of wine. When the waitress left, Alex looked at me.

  “I hope you’re not eating the same meal as me to suck up to me,” she said. I wasn’t sure why I’d chosen the chicken. The steak had looked better. I shrugged.

  “I hope you’re not questioning my choices like you’re in charge.”

  She leaned back in her seat, hands in her lap under the table. I was nervous when a man did that, leaving space for a gun to aim at my balls, but I trusted that she was clean and she came here because she genuinely wanted to know what I had to say. I was hoping that I could go by my gut on this one.

  “So, you’re telling me you’re in charge?” she asked. The conversation was still a power play, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and I got the idea that it wasn’t so hostile anymore.

  “I have all the ideas. You haven’t even heard what I have to say yet,” I said.

  She nodded. “You’re right. Because we can’t discuss our plans to rule the world on an empty stomach.”

  I laughed out loud. She had a great mix of sarcasm and dry humor, paired with a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude that made me think it was right to choose her for this. I was right to let down my guard a little and finally find a partner again.

  “What do you want to do?” she asked. “Or are you only going to discuss this over dessert?”

  I leaned forward, elbows on the table.

  “Tell me what you know about the Crucifix Six.”

  She looked at me for a moment without saying anything. I imagined she was going through her options, deciding how much to trust me and how much to tell me.

  “You’re thinking of joining them, aren’t you?” she asked.

  How did she know?

  She shook her head before I could answer. “It’s a bad idea. If you get on their bad side—and by the looks of things you have a knack for getting on people’s bad side—they’re just going to kill you.”

  I smiled. “You think I have a knack for trouble?”

  “You’re composed of trouble,” she said. It was a compliment. I took it as one because I liked it that way.

  “I don’t know who you are yet,” she said. She still hadn’t changed her seating position. She was still distant, closed off, unsure.

  “Well, that’s just going to take time, honey.”

  “Don’t call me honey. And I mean, I don’t even know your name, but you know who I am.”

  I pushed my hand into my hair. Right. Names. Was I going to tell her the truth? Take another risk? Or was I going to hide behind another alias so that when things did blow up in my face I was safe?

  “Peterson,” I said.

  “And your first name? I can’t work on a surname only basis.”

  “How do you know that’s not my name?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. In the light, she looked a lot more venomous than she had last night in the dark outside the casino.

  “Let’s not play this game,” she said. “You want someone who can count, you better make sure that I can count on you.”

  The wordplay was cute.

  “Fine. I’m Rip.”

  “You must have had a hard time at school about that one,” she said.

  “You believe my name is Rip? You think that Peterson isn’t true, but Rip works for you?”

  She shrugged. “I can read people. Besides, that name is too pathetic to be made up.”

  I wanted to get offended. No one made fun of my name and got away with it. But her eyes sparkled, and she was leaning forward now, elbows on the desk, mirroring me. A smiled curled around her mouth, and I could see further down her top. I wasn’t going to get mad.

  The drinks arrived, and Alex took a sip of her wine. I sucked on my beer.

  “Right. The Crucifix Six,” she said, and I knew that I was in. She trusted me now. I wasn’t sure why, but that didn’t matter.

  “They’re all family. Two brothers, three cousins, and a guy married into the family. They have all the casinos around here by the balls, and they own a couple of pubs around town, too. Rumor has it they’re in charge of drug sales, too, but that’s just a rumor. No one knows if it’s true, and no one has been able to ask and survive to talk about it.”

  I chuckled. “Sounds a lot like a local legend.”

  Alex pinned me with a hard stare.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “You know Jerrill now, judging by your swift exit last night. You have to stay clear of him, and not just because he knows you now. He’s trouble, and he doesn’t think twice before taking someone out. And he’ll take everything you have before that happens. He doesn’t like to have tales on stories, either, so if he kills you, he’ll kill your family, too. Everyone that might know something.”

  “Good thing I don’t have a family,” I said.

  She paused just a moment before moving on.

  “If you want to get in with the Six, you need to offer them something in return for their loyalty to you. Nothing around here is free, especially not them. What are you going to bring to the table?”

  She took another sip of wine. I watched her lips on the wine glass.

  “Money,” I said. “Who can say ‘no’ to money?

  “And where are you going to get this money?”

  “From our winnings,” I said.

  She crossed her arms over chest, not mirroring me anymore, and sat up straight in her chair, not touching the table or the back of the chair.

  “Right, so you want me to win money with you so that I can get back my fifty, but then you want to give it all away? That doesn’t sound like a plan to me.”

  “We can win more. I know we can. I just need to buy their loyalty.”

  “It’s not loyalty if you’re buying it. That defeats the purpose.

  I rubbed my eyes with a thumb and forefinger, feeling the start of a headache. I hadn’t slept enough.

  “I’ll get in with them, and we’ll get games that pay out a lot more than if we just played the field. You’re going to be doing your own thing, so we’ll be doubling up. Even with their cut, we’ll get more than enough. Two is better than one.”

  She looked at me, that poker face in place. I didn’t know what she was thinking, which way she was leaning on this one. The plan sounded like something that could work, though. I really needed her on-board with this.

  “So, you’re going to make sure I get my money?”

  “With interest,” I promised. “And a lot of it.”

  I had her there. Her mask slipped, and I could see her greed underneath it all. She wanted the money. She wanted the challenge. She wanted the thrill. She was just like me in a lot of ways.

  “Fine,” she said.

  The food arrived and neither her chicken nor mine looked very appetizing. I cut a square, speared it with a fork and put it in my mouth.

  “Where do we start?”

  “I want to go to one of those pubs you mentioned, see who I can get in with.”

  She nodded, also chewing.

  “That will be better than going to a casino,” she said, agreeing. “How do I know you’re not going to scam me out of my cut?”

  That was a good question. What kind of surety could I give her? I shook my head.

  “You don’t. You’re just going to have to trust me.”

  She looked me up an
d down.

  “Trust you?” she asked sarcastically, but then she smiled.

  A pang shot through me, and I felt like throwing up all the chicken I’d managed to get down as a serious case of déjà vu hit me. This conversation about trusting me was exactly the same as I’d had with Emmett before we’d started. And he’d asked me that the same way… Trust you?

  Oh God, what was I doing, getting involved with someone again? But it was just business, no pleasure. I wasn’t going to be friends with Alex. This was about the money, and that was where it was going to stay.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Rumor’s Lounge was a bar in the suburbs of L.A. It was one of the more popular hangouts, and Alex had told me that it was owned and run by the Crucifix Six. I was hoping that by going there, I could make friends with one of them. Or friends with one of their friends. I just needed a foot in the door.

  I didn’t have a hell of a lot of time. Considering my wonderful history with the Stone Cold Club, they weren’t just going to give up on me, and they would trace me down here sooner or later. I wanted to get my shit in place so that I could gain before I left again.

  My bail had been expensive. My track record was long, my criminal record almost longer, and the club had paid for my release with the promise they would get it back. Emmett wasn’t worth the money. Since they hadn’t been bothered to pay for him, I wasn’t bothered to pay back what they’d forked out for me.

  Rumor’s had a very vintage feel to it. The walls were all light wood panels, with old vinyl records up against the wall and pictures of people like Marilyn Monroe and Elvis Presley in black and white. There were some old Woodstock pictures, too.

  That was where retro ended and modern took over. A large flat screen television was mounted up against one wall, with high-tech speakers all around the place, playing music that was produced by some of the latest bands. Customers sat around sipping their drinks or playing pool in the one corner, and the feel was casual and homey.

  I walked to the bar and sat down. What I noticed to my right was a low stage, and there was a sign on the wall showing the next week’s lineup. It was the kind of place that gave start-up bands a chance to get their stuff out there to a crowd that was going to turn up either way.

  “What can I do ya for?” the bartender asked in a drawl that was very un-California.

  “Brandy,” I said and pointed to the brand behind him. “With Coke. Thanks.”

  He nodded and turned to fix my drink. I looked around. There was money in the place, I could see that. A man stood behind the pool tables, leaning on an old-fashioned jukebox that I doubted still worked, looking over the customers. I was guessing he was in a position of power.

  I wanted someone who was in a position of power.

  When his eyes fell on me, I nodded. He nodded back. My drink arrived, and I saluted him. He didn’t respond. A woman with a very tight shirt and a waist so tiny I could snap her with one hand sidled up to him and left cherry lipstick stains on his neck. Her hair was tied into a ponytail, and still, it looked like it had exploded on her. Frizz everywhere.

  I took a good, long gulp of my drink and put it down again.

  “So, you’re not one of our regulars.” What do you know? Cherry Lips with the frizz parked herself on the barstool next to me. Judging by her intimacy with Looker over there, she was someone I wanted to talk to tonight. I was guessing he sent her. Good.

  “You’re right,” I said. She pulled the elastic out of her hair and the frizz settled around her face. Really, she should have kept it tied up. She wore hooped golden earrings that screamed hooker, even though she didn’t wear the too-short skirt or the stripper heels.

  “So, what brings you here, then?” she asked.

  I shrugged and took another sip of my drink.

  “I was passing through. I wanted to see what it looked like around here to have a good time.”

  “Well, honey, you came to the right place. This is one of the best there is.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been to the other side of town and there were some fancy places around there. Casinos and the like.”

  “Well, it depends on what you’re looking for,” she said and sounded offended.

  I turned to her, body language showing her I was giving her all my attention.

  “I’m looking for someone who understands me,” I said. “I’m in a new town with money to spend, and nowhere to spend it.”

  She smiled with one half of her mouth, and I could imagine her chewing gum with an open mouth.

  “Well, you’ve come to the right place,” she said. “Around here we’re all friends.”

  I knew that the mention of money would get her attention. She made small talk for a couple of minutes longer before she disappeared. I was hoping she was going to run to the right people.

  When I finished my drink, she appeared again.

  “Barney wants to see you.”

  Barney? Really?

  “Who?”

  “The owner. Come on.”

  She nodded her head and walked away, as if she was sure I was going to follow her. And who was I to say no? I followed her through the crowd and into a private section that I wasn’t even aware existed. She opened the door, walked through first, and gave me a come-hither look over her shoulder that was very out of place.

  The private section was better looking, but with the same vintage feel to it. I was starting to think it wasn’t just for the customer’s sake. The guy I’d seen standing behind the pool tables lurked in the corner, looking like he was ready to take orders. He wasn’t a big show after all.

  A man sat in one of the armchairs, smoking a cigarette so thin it would have looked better on a lady.

  “Come in, please,” he said when he saw me. He held out his hand and I shook it. “Bernard Tucci, but you can call me Barney.”

  Right. The big purple dinosaur in the flesh.

  “Harry over there tells me that you’re new in town, looking for a good time.”

  I nodded and sat down without being invited to do so. When you were in the shark tank, either you acted like a shark, or you risked being eaten.

  “Well, what is it that you’re looking for, exactly?”

  “Investments,” I said. “I have money, and I hear there are some good deals around town.”

  We both knew what I meant when I said investments. I’d been playing this game long enough to talk the talk, and Barney understood he language.

  “I was just itching for some new business,” he said. “What do you have to offer?”

  “I couldn’t help but notice the strip of casinos on the seafront,” I said. “Very attractive.”

  “It’s a family business,” Barney said.

  Bingo. “Well, now that is interesting. I’m quite a player, myself. I love the atmosphere in a casino.”

  Barney nodded. Harry in the corner glared at me as if I was going to whip out a gun any moment, and he was prepared to take the bullet. Cherry Frizz sat next to him on a wooden chair, looking like she was ordered just for the room.

  “What are you prepared to offer?” he asked.

  “Twenty.”

  Which meant twenty percent of all my winnings. Barney leaned back.

  “Now, you know twenty is not going to get you into any of the games that matter. Twenty is just enough to show your face without getting a makeover.”

  I nodded. I knew that he’d say that. But I’d started low so that I could bargain up. I didn’t want to start high and then be forced even higher.

  “How about forty,” I said. Barney chuckled as if it was funny and leaned forward to kill the cigarette that had mostly just burned to the butt by itself.

  “I’m prepared to do seventy with you, Mr.—?”

  Here we go with the identity thing again. “Reeker. Ben Reeker.”

  “Mr. Reeker.” He said the name as if he was trying it out, tasting it, deciding if it was legit. I wasn’t going to tell him my real name, though. Ted was the only one w
ho knew, and if Jerrill was really in the Crucifix Six’s back pocket, this name would come out and it would be fine.

  “Fifty,” I said. “Seems fair, considering that it’s my money and my skill, after all.”

  “But it’s my casino, my name, and my game, Ben,” he said. I wasn’t happy with the first name basis, but he’d offered the same to me, and it wasn’t my real name anyway.