Zane scratches his head and laughs himself before speaking. “It’s okay, I saw this coming, so I’d like to join Giovanni and add something a little better,” he announces. He leans over to bury his hand into his pants pocket and pulls out black beading. “I wasn’t given the memo on playing fair either, so I’m glad I went with my gut.”
He allows the string of beads to drop from his hand and I see it’s Giovanni’s rosary beads and cross. I know from the way the light bounces off the serendibite stones that this is the necklace our uncle gave Giovanni after his first vicious kill. Each stone is said to be worth almost 2 million dollars per carat. You plus onto that the red diamonds embellishing the metal cross and you’re looking at a pirate’s dream fucking swag. I, also, know Giovanni uses this to get a sniff of cocaine while on the go and I cannot help but see my lucky stars twinkle.
“Complete with a few grams of cocaine inside and this,” Zane comments, but as he does so, reaches into his other pocket and pulls out several dozen small bags of cocaine ready to fill the metal cross.
Apparently, Zane thought it was wise to steal the entire loot and not just a little.
Immediately, Giovanni’s face reddens and he looks ready to kill Zane.
“I wouldn’t get pissed off, Gio,” I comment after watching him toss a few daggers at Zane with just a few quick glares. “Zane is actually playing pretty fucking fair with what you’ve bought to the table.”
“What about your panties too, Amelia?” Andrew asks, his voice that normal drone. “I’m sure any of us would love to be in them.”
“You keep dreaming,” I reply, keeping my voice sweet. “I’m selective of what STDs I want. When I’m looking for a cocktail of what you have living in your pants, I know your number.” I lean in across the table. “Deal,” I say, tapping the table.
“Hang on,” Costello pauses, showing who’s running the show here. “This is an all in round. You can’t fold, you can raise a bet, and you play for keeps. Understood?” he asks and waits for the affirmative that no one’s going to do the coward thing and back out. The dealer looks at Costello who nods his head to start the game.
I stare a little too hard at the cards in my hand – an ace and an eight only mean one thing in this sort of poker and that’s the ‘dead man’s hand’. To most it’s thought of as historic, rare, a good luck charm, but in this life it only has a literal meaning – dead man walking. Just my fucking luck to get the worst omen possible.
I look up, knowing I’ve probably failed at bluffing my way through this and watch Zane as he looks at his cards. I casually look around and wonder who’s going to win this. If we are all in – no folds, no extra bets – this is anyone’s game.
“Three cards,” the dealer states, placing the newest cards down. He turns them over and none save me from the appalling hand I was originally dealt. “One more card,” he calls out, adding another one and he repeats this action until there are five clearly displayed cards. “Show.”
As I do, I hear the snicker from beside me and I can’t look. When I do look up, I see Giovanni’s face fall and Zane’s lighten up. I sit up a little straighter and look around. I take note that Andrew nearly won, so did Costello and my father, but Zane’s cards stick out at me as he sits with a perfect royal flush. Giovanni’s haphazardly thrown cards sit pathetically showing no win at all.
“Maverick gets lucky this time again,” Costello announces proudly.
“While Amelia sits with the dead man’s hand,” I hear from beside me.
“Dead woman walking,” Giovanni gloats, sticking me with a viciously wicked gaze.
“Fuck off,” I snap, snarling at the man beside me. “Seeing as we’re all out of money, is that this evening cut short?”
“No, no, I don’t think the evening’s up right now. I reckon we should up the wager,” Andrew comments, leaning onto the table. “Strip poker. I’d do anything to see Amelia stark naked and a loser.”
I don’t get time to roll my eyes and make some smartass remark back as Zane suddenly moves, lightning speed accompanies him, and he slams a knife down, nailing it between Andrew’s fingers, narrowly missing dismembering his middle finger. There’s total stillness as he leans in, the creak of his chair is the only sound and we all watch with bated breath.
“Dare to talk about my girl like that again and I’ll make sure it’s a bigger member I threaten next time, understood?” Zane asks, his voice dangerously threatening. “Well, Andrew?”
“U-understood,” Andrew stutters, his eyes wide, but he does the wrong thing of looking at me.
Zane, noticing, leaves the knife, and reaches up to grab Andrew around the face. He forces him, in a vice-like grip, to look at him. Zane’s fingers begin to go white while Andrew’s face squishes up from the tight hold. He waits a moment before chuckling and releasing his prey.