Dead Man's Hand

Without thought I blurted out the next question that had rolled into my mind. “And the years before that?”


“You’re lucky I like you. But that’s not going to save you for much longer. I wasn’t at any of his tournaments before last year. So I don’t know what he did before that, but from what I gathered, that is the norm for him.”

I also happened to notice just how irate she was growing every time Dempsey surfaced in our conversation. And since our conversation had taken quite a few twists and turns prior to Dempsey’s arrival I knew it wasn’t my curiosity that was causing her irritation. As I said I was a very curious person and I just had to get a clear picture of why she disliked him so much. Even though I didn’t want to ask the question, I needed to get the answer so I bit my lower lip and took the plunge. “Bella, why don’t you like Dempsey?”

If anyone had been watching our conversation, and I was sure some were, they would have just thought I had punched her in the stomach or something. She tried to smooth it over but I could tell she was almost foaming at the mouth. When she had regained enough control not to verbally skin me alive she asked me a question in turn. “What makes you think I don’t like him?”

“You mean apart from that reaction and the anger that’s radiating off of you?”

For a long time she stared past me into nothing. So I kept my eyes on her, there was no way I was going to take my eyes off of her, not after that reaction. “I have my reasons and I’d rather not go into them. Now don’t ask me any more questions about him. If you have any other questions about the tournament feel free to ask. But you better think long and hard before you ask anything.” She pulled her eyes from the nothingness she had been studying and back to my own. I could see the steel determination around the edges. “If the question even remotely revolves around Dempsey you will regret it. Is that clear?”

“Absolutely.” I stammered. I really wish I had been able to muster a better reply, but those eyes had creeped me out, there had been something there, something familiar behind that glare.

“Good.”

“I wasn’t trying…” I began, and I would like to think that I would have said something intelligible but at that moment a man came up from behind me and interrupted the thought.

“Welcome back Bella.” I instantly recognized the voice without having to turn around. Dempsey had finally made his way to our table. I was too nervous to turn around so instead I focused all of my attention on Bella, leaving only just enough attention to keep listening to Dempsey. “I hope this gentleman isn’t bothering you.”

I was able to see her face grow even harder, if that were possible, before she looked up and replied coldly. “Marcus has been a complete gentleman. In fact he has managed to keep me quite entertained as we waited for everyone’s arrival.” As she stood up she looked down at me and her voice warmed instantly, “Marcus that bartender’s name was Simon, correct?”

With a nod from me she spoke with a mostly warm voice. “Well if you would excuse me I need a refill, and I think you’ll need one by the time I get back so I’ll get one for you.” With that she deftly snatched her empty glass off of the table and made her way to the nearest bar in search of Simon.

With Bella’s chair now vacant Dempsey walked around the table and sat down. “I hope you don’t mind if I sit down and talk with you for a little while.”

“Please do.” I mean what else was I going to say? I may have been willing to give Patrick some grief about what he did when he joined our table. But I mean it was one thing to do that with a man like Patrick, but with the man sitting at my table right now; well that would be a form of stupidity on an entirely new level.

Sitting there, I could feel the stoic man weighing me up as he looked at me. A subjective eternity later he pulled his eyes from mine and spoke with quite the friendly voice. “Thank you for entertaining my niece.”

Did he just say niece? Bella was Dempsey’s niece? What? No. That had to be wrong. As my stomach hit the floor, I began to think that luck had abandoned me right there. Of all the people here at this tournament how had I managed to spend all my time talking with Dempsey’s niece? There was nothing I could do to stop panic rising inside me. And to make matters worse I knew that he knew he had rattled me. I kept my eyes away from his, there was no reason I had to give him any more than necessary. I needed to reign in my panic. With a focus of will that I borrowed from somewhere I forced myself to speak in a clear voice. “Your niece is a wonderful woman, and she is one of the brightest people I’ve ever met.”

Nodding Dempsey continued on in his emotionless voice, “She is a wonderful woman, but I believe my brother indulges her far too much.” The voice was not the creepy thing, the creepy thing was that Dempsey was acting like I was a lifelong confidant rather than a complete stranger.

I made sure to keep our eyes from meeting while I answered as best as I could, “I wouldn’t be able to comment on that sir.”

Rubbing the bottom of his chin Dempsey looked like he was deep in contemplation, and again that rattled my stomach. Without much of a pause he folded his hands together on the table before saying, “You’re a very careful man, Marcus. And I have to admit that is a good trait to flourish.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Dempsey let silence linger just long enough for it to become uncomfortable. “Is that normal for you?”

I bit my lip on the initial response. Last time I checked my doctor told me that it was never a good idea to antagonize a man like Dempsey, something about it proving terminal. So instead I chose my words carefully, “With your reputation, I see that as a very good plan.”

“If you didn’t have to worry about my reputation, where would that put us?”

“What do you mean sir?” I asked, trying to keep my tone very formal and respectful.

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