Pitch Black (Romantic Thriller, Completed)

Chapter 14

"Are we playing Texas Hold'em?" I asked, naming the variant of the game beloved of casinos and frat boys the world over.

"Yeah," Luke said.

I shuffled the cards and dealt two to each player, face down. They peeked, and betting commenced. Mark tried to hide his smile as he threw a handful of chips into the middle. He had something good.

Huey followed suit. "Come on, boys, make me rich."

Louie tossed his cards down in disgust, muttering, "Did you shuffle these properly?"

"Bad luck, mate," Huey said, although he didn't sound sympathetic.

When everyone had bet or folded, I dealt three cards—the flop—face-up on the table. Mark groaned. He was terrible at this game. I could read him like a large-print book.

"I'm out," he said when his turn came.

I dealt the fourth card, and everyone stayed in. Either they all had good hands, or they thought they could bluff their way through. I found myself watching Luke. What was his tell?

I dealt the fifth and final card, and Luke and Huey folded. Dewey leapt up, fist pumping the air when he won with a full house against Ben's pair of eights.

"Yes, I'm the man!"

That was debatable, considering his choice of drink had been a margarita. As he raked the pile of chips towards him, I gathered the cards up and dealt the next game.

While I wasn't playing, I got the chance to study the others. Mark stayed cautious, and Ben tended towards gung-ho. He thought he could bluff his way through, however terrible his cards were. Most of the time, it didn't work.

"Bollocks," he muttered as his pile of chips dwindled further.

Huey was the easiest to suss out. When nerves got the better of him, his right foot tapped. I could see the slight movement carrying through to his torso. There it was again—tap, tap, tap. He was bluffing. Players like him were easy to take money off. The game lasted another hour, until Luke's face lit up in a grin as he won the last of Mark's chips.

"Hand them over. What were you doing in Vegas last month? Not practising your game, that's for sure."

"No, I was hanging with my posse of showgirls," Mark said.

"And your girlfriend was where?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "Fine, I went to a golf tournament. Anyhow, you just got lucky."

Lucky? I wasn't sure. Luke played with confidence, and he'd rarely had to show his cards. Maybe he was just good at bluffing? I wasn't sure.

"Shall we play again?" Luke asked. The hideous wooden clock on the wall showed it was just after eleven.

There were murmurs of assent.

"You joining in this time, Ash?"

"Love to, but I need to check on Susie and Hayley first." I had visions of them collapsed in a corner somewhere.

"Not a bad idea," Dewey said. "We should check the kids too. We can pick up another round on the way back."

"You might want to order the drinks first if you want them to be ready before morning," I suggested.

"Good point," Mark agreed. "Luke, can you check on Arabella, and I'll go to the bar?"

Ah, so Mark was Arabella's brother. Poor bastard. He seemed so normal in comparison.

If anything, the music downstairs had got louder. I found Susie and Hayley on the dance floor, and while Susie was missing her shoes, at least they were both still upright. I counted that as a win. Back in the bar, the old-timer was making a meal out of pulling a pint.