CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lucky Thirteen
HALF EXCITED, HALF NERVOUS AS HELL, I WALKED INTO my father’s home, my fingers intertwined with Abby’s. Smoke from my father’s cigar and my brothers’ cigarettes drifted from the game room, mixing with the faint, musky smell of carpet older than I was.
Even though Abby was initially pissed that she didn’t have much notice before meeting my family, she looked more at ease than I felt. Bringing home a girlfriend was not a habit of the Maddox men, and any prediction of their reaction was unreliable at best.
Trenton came into view first. “Holy Christ! It’s the asshat!”
Any hope of my brothers even pretending not to be anything but feral was a waste of time. I loved them anyway, and knowing Abby, she would, too.
“Hey, hey . . . watch the language around the young lady,” Dad said, nodding to Abby.
“Pidge, this is my dad, Jim Maddox. Dad, this is Pigeon.”
“Pigeon?” Jim asked, an amused expression on his face.
“Abby,” she said, shaking his hand.
I pointed to my brothers, all of them nodding when I said their name. “Trenton, Taylor, Tyler, and Thomas.”
Abby seemed a bit overwhelmed. I couldn’t blame her; I’d never really talked about my family, and five boys would be mind-boggling to anybody. In fact, five Maddoxes were downright frightening to most.
Growing up, the neighborhood kids learned early not to mess with one of us, and only once did someone make the mistake of taking on all of us. We were broken, but came together as a solid fortress if necessary. That was clear even to those we didn’t mean to intimidate.
“Does Abby have a last name?” Dad asked.
“Abernathy,” she said, nodding politely.
“It’s nice to meet you, Abby,” Thomas said with a smile. Abby wouldn’t have noticed, but Thomas’s expression was a front for what he was really doing: analyzing her every word and movement. Thomas was always on the lookout for someone that could potentially rock our already rickety boat. Waves weren’t welcome, and Thomas had always made it his job to calm potential storms.
Dad can’t take it, he used to say. None of us could argue with that logic. When one or a few of us found ourselves in trouble, we would go to Thomas, and he would take care of it before Dad could find out. Years of fostering a bunch of rowdy, violent boys made a man out of Thomas far earlier than anyone should be expected to be. We all respected him for it, including my father, but years of being our protector left him a little overbearing at times. But Abby stood, smiling and oblivious to the fact that she was now a target, under scrutiny by the family guardian.
“Really nice,” Trenton said, his eyes roving over places that would have gotten anyone else killed.
Dad slapped the back of Trenton’s head and he yelped.
“What’d I say?” he said, rubbing the back of his head.
“Have a seat, Abby. Watch us take Trav’s money,” Tyler said.
I pulled out a chair for Abby, and she sat. I glared at Trenton, and he responded with only a wink. Smart-ass.
“You knew Stu Unger?” Abby asked, pointing to a dusty photo.
I couldn’t believe my ears.
Dad’s eyes brightened. “You know who Stu Unger is?”
Abby nodded. “My dad’s a fan, too.”
Dad stood up, pointing to the dusty picture beside it. “And that’s Doyle Brunson, there.”
Abby smiled. “My dad saw him play, once. He’s unbelievable.”
“Trav’s granddaddy was a professional. We take poker very seriously around here.” Dad smiled.
Not only had Abby never mentioned the fact that she knew anything about poker, it was also the first time I’d ever heard her speak of her dad.
As we watched Trenton shuffle and deal, I tried to forget what had just happened. With her long legs, slight but perfectly proportioned curves, and big eyes, Abby was stunningly gorgeous, but knowing Stu Unger by name already made her a huge hit with my family. I sat up a little taller in my seat. No way would any of my brothers bring home anyone that could top that.
Trenton raised an eyebrow. “You wanna play, Abby?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I should.”
“You don’t know how?” Dad asked.
I leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Play . . . I’ll teach you.”
“You should just kiss your money goodbye, now, Abby.” Thomas laughed.
Abby pressed her lips together and dug into her purse, pulling out two fifties. She held them out to Dad, waiting patiently while he traded them for chips. Trenton smiled, eager to take advantage of her confidence.
“I have faith in Travis’s teaching skills,” Abby said.
Taylor clapped. “Hells yeah! I’m going to get rich tonight!”
“Let’s start small this time,” Dad said, throwing in a five-dollar chip.
Trenton dealt, and I fanned out Abby’s hand. “Have you ever played?”
“It’s been a while.” She nodded.
“Go Fish doesn’t count, Pollyanna,” Trenton said, looking at his cards.
“Shut your hole, Trent,” I growled, throwing him a quick threatening look before returning to Abby’s cards. “You’re shooting for higher cards, consecutive numbers, and if you’re really lucky, in the same suit.”
We lost the first few rounds, but then Abby refused to let me help her. After that, she started to pick it up pretty quickly. Three hands later, she had kicked all of their asses without blinking.
“Bullshit!” Trenton whined. “Beginner’s luck sucks!”
“You’ve got a fast learner, Trav,” Dad said, moving his mouth around his cigar.
I took a sip of my beer, feeling like the king of the world. “You’re makin’ me proud, Pigeon!”
“Thanks.”
“Those that cannot do, teach,” Thomas said, smirking.
“Very funny, a*shole,” I murmured.
“Get the girl a beer,” Dad said, an amused smile lifting his already puffy cheeks.
I gladly hopped up, pulled a bottle from the fridge, and used the already cracked edge of the countertop to pop off the cap. Abby smiled when I placed the beer in front of her and didn’t hesitate to take one of her signature man-size swigs.
She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, and then waited on my dad to put in his chips.
Four hands later, Abby had tipped back the last of her third beer and watched Taylor closely. “The action’s on you, Taylor. You gonna be a baby or you going to put in like a man?”
It was getting very difficult for me to keep from being excited in other places. Watching Abby own my brothers—and a poker veteran like my father—hand after hand was turning me on. I’d never seen a women so sexy in my life, and this one happened to be my girlfriend.
“F*ck it,” Taylor said, throwing the last of his chips in.
“Whatdya got, Pigeon?” I asked with a grin. I felt like a kid at Christmas.
“Taylor?” Abby prompted, her face completely blank.
A wide grin spread across his face. “Flush!” He smiled, spreading his cards faceup on the table.
We all looked to Abby. Her eyes scanned the men around the table, and then she slammed her cards down. “Read ’em and weep, boys! Aces and eights!”
“A full house? What the f*ck?” Trenton cried.
“Sorry. I’ve always wanted to say that,” Abby said, giggling as she pulled in her chips.
Thomas’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t just beginner’s luck. She plays.”
I watched Thomas for a moment. He wasn’t taking his eyes from Abby.
I looked to her, then. “Have you played before, Pidge?”
She pressed her lips together and shrugged, letting a sweet smile turn up the corners of her mouth. My head fell back, and I burst into laughter. I started to tell her how proud I was, but the words were held hostage by the uncontrollable cackling shaking my entire body. I hit the table with my fist a few times, trying to get a hold of myself.
“Your girlfriend just f*cking hustled us!” Taylor said, pointing in my direction.
“NO F*ckING WAY!” Trenton wailed, standing up.
“Good plan, Travis. Bring a card shark to poker night,” Dad said, winking at Abby.
“I didn’t know!” I said, shaking my head.
“Bullshit,” Thomas said, his eyes still dissecting my girlfriend.
“I didn’t!” I said.
“I hate to say it, bro. But I think I just fell in love with your girl,” Tyler said.
Suddenly my laughter was gone, and I frowned. “Hey, now.”
“That’s it. I was going easy on you, Abby, but I’m winning my money back, now,” Trenton warned.
I sat out the last few rounds, watching the boys try to win back their money. Hand after hand, Abby steamrolled them. She didn’t even pretend to go easy on them.
Once my brothers were broke, Dad called it a night, and Abby returned a hundred dollars to each of them, except Dad, who wouldn’t take it.
I took Abby’s hand, and we walked to the door. Watching my girlfriend de-sack my brothers was entertaining, but I was still disappointed that she returned some of their money.
She squeezed my hand. “What’s wrong?”
“You just gave away four hundred bucks, Pidge!”
“If this was poker night at Sig Tau, I would have kept it. I can’t rob your brothers the first time I meet them.”
“They would have kept your money!”
“And I wouldn’t have lost a second of sleep over it, either,” Taylor sa id.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Thomas staring at Abby from the recliner in the corner of the living room. He’d been even more quiet than usual.
“Why do you keep starin’ at my girl, Tommy?”
“What did you say your last name was?” Thomas asked.
Abby shifted nervously but didn’t answer.
I put my arm around her waist, and turned to my brother, not sure what he was getting at. He thought he knew something, and was getting ready to make his move.
“It’s Abernathy. What of it?”
“I can see why you didn’t put it together before tonight, Trav, but now you don’t have an excuse,” Thomas said, smug.
“What the f*ck are you talking about?” I asked.
“Are you related to Mick Abernathy by any chance?” Thomas asked.
All heads turned to wait for Abby’s response.
She raked her hair back with her fingers, clearly nervous. “How do you know Mick?”
My neck craned even more in her direction. “He’s only one of the best poker players that ever lived. Do you know him?”
“He’s my father,” she said. It looked almost painful for her to answer.
The entire room exploded.
“NO F*ckING WAY!”
“I KNEW IT!”
“WE JUST PLAYED MICK ABERNATHY’S DAUGHTER!”
“MICK ABERNATHY? HOLY SHIT!”
The words rang in my ears, but it still took me several seconds to process. Three of my brothers were jumping up and down and screaming, but to me the entire room was frozen, and the world silent.
My girlfriend, who also happened to be my best friend, was the daughter of a poker legend—someone my brothers, father, and even my grandfather idolized.
Abby’s voice brought me back to the present. “I told you guys I shouldn’t play.”
“If you would have mentioned you were Mick Abernathy’s daughter, I think we would have taken you more seriously,” Thomas said.
Abby peeked over at me from under her lashes, waiting for a reaction.
“You’re Lucky Thirteen?” I asked, dumbfounded.
Trenton stood and pointed. “Lucky Thirteen is in our house! No way! I don’t f*cking believe it!”
“That was the nickname the papers gave me. And the story wasn’t exactly accurate,” Abby said, fidgeting.
Even amid the booming commotion from my brothers, the only thing I could think about was how f*cking hot it was that the girl I’m in love with was practically a celebrity. Even better, she was famous for something outrageously badass.
“I need to get Abby home, guys,” I said.
Dad peered at Abby over his glasses. “Why wasn’t it accurate?”
“I didn’t take my dad’s luck. I mean, how ridiculous.” She chuckled, twisting her hair nervously around her finger.
Thomas shook his head. “No, Mick gave that interview. He said at midnight on your thirteenth birthday his luck ran dry.”
“And yours picked up,” I added.
“You were raised by mobsters!” Trent said, smiling with excitement.
“Uh . . . no.” She laughed once. “They didn’t raise me. They were just . . . around a lot.”
“That was a damn shame, Mick running your name through the mud like that in all the papers. You were just a kid,” Dad said, shaking his head.
“If anything it was beginner’s luck,” Abby said.
I could tell by the look on her face she was bordering on feeling mortification from all of the attention.
“You were taught by Mick Abernathy,” Dad said, shaking his head in awe. “You were playing pros, and winning, at thirteen years old for Christ’s sakes.” He looked at me and smiled. “Don’t bet against her, son. She doesn’t lose.”
My mind instantly returned to the fight when Abby bet against me, knowing she would lose, and have to live with me for a month if she did. All that time I thought she didn’t care about me, and just then I realized it couldn’t have been true.
“Uh . . . we gotta go, Dad. Bye, guys.”
I raced through the streets, weaving in and out of traffic. The faster the needle inched up on the speedometer, the tighter Abby’s thighs clamped, making me even more eager to reach the apartment.
Abby didn’t say a word when I parked the Harley and led her upstairs, and still wasn’t speaking when I helped her with her jacket.
She let her hair down, and I stood, watching her in awe. It was almost like she was a different person, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her.
“I know you’re mad,” she said, her eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it’s not something I talk about.”
Her words stunned me. “Mad at you? I am so turned on I can’t see straight. You just robbed my a*shole brothers of their money without batting an eyelash, you have achieved legend status with my father, and I know for a fact that you purposely lost that bet we made before my fight.”
“I wouldn’t say that . . .”
“Did you think you were going to win?”
“Well . . . no, not exactly,” she said, pulling off her heels.
I could barely contain the smile that inched across my face. “So you wanted to be here with me. I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”
Abby kicked her heels into the closet. “How are you not mad right now?”
I sighed. Maybe I should’ve been mad. But I just . . . wasn’t. “That’s pretty big, Pidge. You should have told me. But I understand why you didn’t. You came here to get away from all of that. It’s like the sky opened up. Everything makes sense, no w.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“Lucky Thirteen,” I said, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head.
“Don’t call me that, Travis. It’s not a good thing.”
“You’re f*cking famous, Pigeon!” I unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down around her ankles, helping her to step out of them.
“My father hated me after that. He still blames me for all his problems.”
I yanked off my shirt and hugged her to me, impatient to feel her skin against mine. “I still can’t believe the daughter of Mick Abernathy is standing in front of me, and I’ve been with you this whole time and had no idea.”
She pushed me away. “I’m not Mick Abernathy’s daughter, Travis! That’s what I left behind. I’m Abby. Just Abby!” she said, walking over to the closet. She yanked a T-shirt off its hanger and pulled it over her head.
“I’m sorry. I’m a little starstruck.”
“It’s just me!” She held the palm of her hand to her chest, an edge of desperation in her voice.
“Yeah, but . . .”
“But nothing. The way you’re looking at me right now? This is exactly why I didn’t tell you.” She closed her eyes. “I won’t live like that anymore, Trav. Not even with you.”
“Whoa! Calm down, Pigeon. Let’s not get carried away.” I took her in my arms, suddenly worried where the conversation was going. “I don’t care what you were or what you’re not anymore. I just want you.”
“I guess we have that in common, then.”
I pulled her gently to the bed, and then snuggled next to her, taking in the faint smell of cigar mixed with her shampoo. “It’s just you and me against the world, Pidge.”
She curled up beside me, seeming satisfied with my words. When she relaxed against my chest, she sighed.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I don’t want anyone to know, Trav. I didn’t want you to know.”
“I love you, Abby. I won’t mention it again, okay? Your secret’s safe with me,” I said, pressing my lips gently against her temple.
She nuzzled her cheek against my skin, and I pulled her tight. The night’s events seemed like a dream. The first time I bring a girl home, and not only is she the daughter of a famous poker player, but she could also easily bankrupt us all in a single hand. For being the family f*ckup, I felt like I had finally gained a little respect from my older brothers. And it was all because of Abby.
I lie in bed awake, unable to stop my mind long enough to doze off. Abby’s breathing had evened out half an hour before.
My cell lit up and buzzed just once, signaling a text message. I opened it up, and immediately frowned. The sender’s name scrolled across: Jason Brazil.
Dude. Parker’s talkin smack.
Very carefully, I pulled my arm out from under Abby’s head to use both hands to type a message back.
Says who?
Says me hes sittin right here.
Oh yeah? Whats he sayin?
Its about Pigeon. U sure u wanna know?
Dont b a dick.
He sd shes still calling him.
Negative.
Sd earlier hes waiting 4 u to screw up, and shes just waitin for a good time to kick u 2 the curb.
Did he now?
Sd just now that she told him the other day she was really unhappy but u were kinda crazy and she was worried about when to do it.
If she wasnt laying next to me id come over there n beat his fkn ass
Not worth it. We all know hes full of shit.
Still pisses me off
I heard that. Don’t worry about the douche canoe. U got ur girl next 2 u.
Had Abby not been sleeping beside me, I would have jumped on my bike and went straight to the Sig Tau house and shoved my fist through Parker’s five-thousand-dollar grill. Maybe taken a bat to his Porsche.
Half an hour passed before the rage shakes finally began to subside. Abby hadn’t moved. That same subtle noise that she made with her nose when she slept helped to slow my heart rate, and before long I was able to take her back into my arms and relax.
Abby wasn’t calling Parker. If she was unhappy, she would have told me. I took a deep breath and watched the shadow of the tree outside dance against the wall.
“HE DIDN’T,” SHEPLEY SAID, STOPPING MIDSTEP.
The girls left us at the apartment alone so they could shop for a dress for the date party, so I talked Shepley into driving us to the local furniture store.
“He sure as shit did.” I turned my phone for Shepley to see. “Brazil texted me last night and ratted his ass out.”
Shepley sighed and shook his head. “He had to know that would get back to you. I mean . . . how could it not? Those guys are bigger gossips than the girls.”
I stopped, seeing a couch that caught my eye. “I bet that’s why he did it. Hoping it would get back to me.”
Shepley nodded. “Let’s face it. The old you would have gone into a jealous rage and scared her right into Parker’s arms.”
“Bastard,” I said as a salesman approached.
“Good morning, gentleman. Can I help you find something in particular?”
Shepley threw himself onto the couch, and then bounced a few times before nodding his head. “I approve.”
“Yeah. I’ll take this one,” I said.
“You’ll take it?” he said, a little surprised.
“Yeah,” I said, a little surprised myself at his reaction. “Do you deliver?”
“Yes, sir, we do. Would you like to know the price?”
“It says right here, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“So, I’ll take it. Where do I pay?”
“Right this way, sir.”
The salesman tried unsuccessfully to talk me into some more items that matched the couch, but I had a few more things to buy that day.
Shepley gave them our address, and the salesman thanked me for being the easiest sale of the year.
“Where are we going now?” he asked, trying to keep pace with me to the Charger.
“Calvin’s.”
“You getting new ink?”
“Yep.”
Shepley watched me, wary. “What are you doing, Trav?”
“What I always said I would do if I met the right girl.”
Shepley stepped in front of the passenger door. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. Don’t you think you should discuss it with Abby first . . . you know, so she doesn’t freak out?”
I frowned. “She might say no.”
“It’s better she says no than you do it and she runs out of the apartment because you scared her off. Things have been going good between you two. Why don’t you just let it ride for a while?”
I cupped my hands on Shepley’s shoulders. “That doesn’t sound like me at all,” I said, and then moved him aside.
Shepley jogged around the front of the Charger, and then slid into the driver’s seat. “I’m still taking the official position that this is a bad idea.”
“Noted.”
“Then where?”
“Steiner’s.”
“The jewelry store?”
“Yep.”
“Why, Travis?” Shepley said, his voice more stern than before.
“You’ll see.”
He shook his head. “Are you trying to run her off?”
“It’s going to happen, Shep. I just want to have it. For when the time is right.”
“No time anytime soon is right. I am so in love with America that it drives me crazy sometimes, but we’re not old enough for that shit, yet, Travis. And . . . what if she says no?”
My teeth clenched at the thought. “I won’t ask her until I know she’s ready.”
Shepley’s mouth pulled to the side. “Just when I think you can’t get any more insane, you do something else to remind me that you are far beyond bat shit crazy.”
“Wait until you see the rock I’m getting.”
Shepley craned his neck slowly in my direction. “You’ve already been over there shopping, haven’t you?”
I smiled.