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Joker: A Bad Boy Biker Romance (New Devils MC Book 2) Page 2
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There was no man like Alvarez. Not in the big city. Not in Ivory. Not in Holt County. He was the perfect combination of bombastic affluence that you never knew existed until you saw it for yourself.
“Oh, Henry,” one of his women said. “Tell us another story.”
“Another story?” Alvarez said. “I think I’ve had enough stories for tonight. I just want to relax.”
“How can we help you relax?” the other woman said. “Tell us what you want us to do.”
Alvarez leaned back in his seat and sighed contentedly. It was a good thing a man like Alvarez had money. I wondered if he would be able to afford the company of women like the ones next to him. Tonight, it was a dark blond named Skye and a platinum blond named Lexi. I guess he wanted a little variety tonight.
“Where is that waiter?” Alvarez said as he looked around the small VIP room we were in. “Faye, did you talk to him?”
“I rang for him. I’ll do it again—”
“No, no. There’s no need for that. Why don’t you get me another bottle of champagne yourself?”
He turned his attention to the giggling women right next to him. It was like I didn’t even exist. I didn’t mind though. I’d come to expect it at this point.
I got up from my seat and started to leave.
“Take your time, Faye,” Alvarez said. “I’ve got some business to take care of.”
I left the private VIP room we were in and stepped back into the lounge. Considering it was the VIP lounge, it was surprisingly more crowded than I expected it to be. I looked around to see if there was a waiter I could get a hold of but they were all busy at the moment. I figured I would take my time just like Alvarez told me to.
I walked up to the bar and waited a few seconds before the bartender finally saw me.
“I need another bottle. For Alvarez’s room.”
“Oh… Right… I don’t have what he likes to drink here right now.”
“You don’t have the champagne he likes?”
I tried not to give the bartender a hard time. But I knew that Alvarez didn’t care whose fault it was. I wasn’t anxious to explain to him that they didn’t have what he wanted.
“We’re a little understaffed, so not everything is stocked,” the bartender said. “I’ll have to send someone back to storage.”
“How long will that take?”
“It’ll be a few minutes.”
“Fine. Just make sure you put it on ice.”
The bartender gave me a nod and told someone else to head to the back to get the bottle I needed. I put my head down and crossed my arms, leaning up against the bar as I waited.
The lounge was a little darker than the rest of the casino but not so dim that I couldn’t see anybody. Everybody in the lounge was enjoying their conversation. It was the kind of thing you would expect from people who had nothing better to do with their money. With the music playing in the background and the alcohol flowing, the scene was exciting but not anything wild like I’d seen in the clubs or bars in the big city.
I was the only one in the room who wasn’t here to have a good time. I had a job to do and I was going to focus on it.
Where is that bottle?
I sighed as I raised my head up. The bartender continued to ignore me while the man he sent to the back still hadn’t returned.
I looked over to the side and saw a man who looked different from everybody else in the room. He wasn’t wearing a nice suit. He wasn’t even wearing a nice shirt. Just a leather jacket that had seen better days and a pair of jeans that made you wonder how those kinds of rips got into them.
He gulped his drink down then directed the bartender to refill it. Then he took a puff of his cigarette and dusted the ash into the ashtray.
Wait a second… I think I…
I didn’t realize that I was staring at him until he suddenly turned and looked at me.
He gave me a blank stare with those cold gray eyes of his.
It can’t be…
For some reason, I didn’t look away. He was sitting a few feet away from me, staring right back at me.
He narrowed his eyes.
“You need some help?” he said.
When he spoke, it finally hit me.
“Hunter?” I said.
He raised an eyebrow at me, a look of confusion on his face.
“Hunter Jacobson,” I said.
He kept staring at me. He leaned his face forward a little then he slowly stopped squinting.
“Oh… Shit…” he muttered as he looked away from me. “I can’t fucking believe it…”
It was him. Hunter Jacobson. From high school. It wasn’t that many years ago but damn if it didn’t feel like it.
He looked about what I’d expect at this point. A five-o’clock shadow along his chin. Some new tattoos on his chest that peaked up near his neck. His dark hair was a little longer and messy on his head. Even the way he sat in his seat made it seem like he didn’t care about anything, slouched over against the bar like he was about to fall over. Just like the Hunter I remembered.
“What are you doing out here?” I said to him.
“It’s a casino,” he said. “What do you think I’m doing out here?”
“Oh… Well… Last I heard you were in prison… I…”
“You what? You thought I’d be dead by now?”
“Well…”
“Don’t answer that,” he said, putting an index finger up. “I got locked up for a petty crime. I know how to make ends meet. I can take care of myself.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“Why? Because I’m in a casino. I’m a high school dropout, Faye. Where else would you expect me to be?”
I could hear a bit of the disappointment in his voice. It’d been so long since I’d seen him, I realized now wasn’t the right time to scold him.
“What are you doing here anyway?” he said. “I figured you’d be making something of yourself by now. Partying on spring break or some shit?”
“I…”
I didn’t want to tell him the truth about what I was doing in a casino. I didn’t want to tell him anything. He didn’t seem to care what I would tell him though.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “What matters is that I’m here now. I’m your friend. We’ve always been friends. You know that.”
Hunter didn’t look at me, instead swirling his liquor around in his cup before gulping it down.
“We’ve always been friends, huh?”
He slowly turned and eyeballed me. He was staring so hard like he was trying to drill a hole into me. His strong jaw clenched as he waited for my response.
I didn’t know what to say.
“High school was a long time ago,” he said.
“We were friends back then—”
“Were friends. Things changed when I dropped out.”
“You’re here now. Let me help you.”
Hunter chuckled to himself. The way he laughed brought back memories of when I used to hear it so often. Now it didn’t evoke the same kind of good feelings it usually did. Now I could hear a bit of the hurt inside of him.
He got up from his seat and threw a few bills on the counter.
“You were always better than me, Faye. You were destined for something greater. Being friends with someone like me will never get you anywhere.”
“You can’t say something like that,” I responded.
He gave me a smirk and shook his head.
“Stop worrying about me, Faye. I can take care of myself just fine.”
He turned his back to me and walked out of the VIP lounge. I stood in my place and watched him leave. I wanted to do something but I was paralyzed. Seeing Hunter again brought back so many memories that I wasn’t sure what to make of all of them.
“Miss…”
I heard a voice near me but it was distant.
“Miss!”
I jerked my head and saw the bartender holding up the bucket of ice with champagne in it.
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“Your champagne,” he said.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts then nodded to him as I grabbed the bottle.
I headed back into the VIP room to find Alvarez with his hair mussed and his shirt unbuttoned even more. Even without the lipstick on his face, it wasn’t hard to tell what just happened with the bimbos by his side.
“Ah, Faye,” he said. “I was waiting for you.”
He grabbed the champagne and popped it open to the delight of the women. I sat across from him and stared off into the distance.
Hunter…
“Faye.”
Alvarez snapped his fingers at me to get my attention.
“Where’s your head at?” he said. “I don’t pay you to daydream.”
“No,” I responded. “Of course not. What else can I do for you?”
“Pour some of this champagne for the ladies. Then see if you can find me something to eat.”
I nodded and did as I was told.
“Yes, sir. Anything you want.”
Chapter 3
HUNTER
Every asshole you’d ever come across would tell you they’re the best card player in the world. They’d talk about their bluffs. They’d talk about how they read their opponents. They’d talk about predicting how the cards would be dealt. The truth was, all of those times were about luck. Sometimes the cards were just dealt in your favor.
I wasn’t any different from most of those assholes. Why would I not take the chance to brag about the times I’d won when I wasn’t supposed to? The difference between me and everybody else was that I knew that it was luck.
So… How do you win in a game when so much luck is involved?
You make your own luck.
Sure, I cheated every now and then. But that was only when I really needed the cash. When it really came down to it, I knew when to take my chances and when not to push my… luck.
For me, the game was five-card stud poker. The rules were simple. Every man gets two cards. One card face up that everybody could see. Another card face down. A hole card. A card only you could see. Three more cards with a round of betting after each one. That’s it. Five cards. You gotta play what you’re dealt.
Some people wonder how the hell you’re supposed to play cards when you can see most of your opponent’s hand. Most of your opponent’s hand. That’s the key. The hole card could be anything you wanted it to be. It could turn a hand that was nothing at all into something.
That’s all the information anybody needed to win. That was all the information I needed to win. And right now, there were just a few more people in my way.
Eden had attracted all of the right kinds of people. Assholes who thought they were the best poker players in the world. Pricks who could afford to lose because they had too much money. Honest folks who were just looking to test their skills.
The small tournament was coming to a close. It was down to three of us.
There was a small crowd gathered around the table. I drowned out the sound of the murmuring, the slot machines and the drunken assholes rambling incoherently.
A five, a six, a jack, and a king. All hearts.
“It’s on you, sir,” the dealer said to me.
I looked down at my hand along with everybody else at the table. I peeked at my hole card and saw it.
Two of hearts.
I knew I had the other two men at the table beat. But it wasn’t as simple as just making a bet and getting them to call. No… I had to convince these guys to throw their money in even though they’d already lost.
I scratched my chin and pretended like I was thinking. I shuffled my chips nervously between my fingers. One of the other men at the table sighed through his nose and started grumbling.
“Let’s go already,” he muttered.
“Hold on, hold on,” I said. “I’m thinking.”
“Thinking of a bluff.”
Got him.
I held back a smile. The smartest move to make was to pretend that I didn’t have it.
“Call a clock on this guy,” the other man at the table said.
“All right, all right,” I said as I put my hands up.
I sighed a deep breath and shook my head.
“I’m all in,” I said.
“I call.”
That’s one.
“I call.”
That’s two.
Hook. Line. Sinker.
I caught two men with only one piece of bait.
No longer having to hold back, I flipped my hole card over and showed the winning hand. The dealer fanned the cards out on the table to the disappointment of everybody else.
“Player shows a king high flush.”
The two men at the table were trying their hardest not to show their disappointment. There was no reason for them to complain. Finishing second and third meant they still got some cash.
I headed to the cashier to collect my winnings. I counted out the money to make sure they got it right. A few thousand dollars. Not bad for an hour’s work.
Still a long way to go…
“Thank you,” I said to the teller. “I’ll make sure to put this to good use.”
I spun around and immediately saw her standing right there in front of me.
Faye.
She looked the same as she did in high school. Just as mature and poised. There wasn’t a moment in her life she wasn’t so professional. It wasn’t surprising that six years just made her more mature.
Her brown hair was tied-up in a bun. Her skirt was long around her knees. She wore a long-sleeved top that hid everything in case any man got any ideas. It’s just what I would’ve expected from someone like her.
She raised an eyebrow at me from behind her glasses, her brow furrowed and her arms crossed. I could feel her about to scold me.
“Jesus,” I groaned to myself. “What the fuck are you doing? Are you following me?”
“I am following you. Not you specifically.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“I was told to follow you.”
“You were told to follow me?”
“My boss wanted to speak with the person who won the latest stud poker tournament. He told me to invite you over for a game.”
“Your boss?”
“Henry Alvarez. You must’ve heard of him.”
The name sounded familiar but nothing came to me immediately.
“A game, huh?” I said with a shrug. “Tell your boss I’m not interested.”
“He insisted. He wants to challenge you to a high-stakes game.”
“A high-stakes game?”
“Yes. Alvarez is an avid player. He likes to test himself…”
Faye clenched her jaw and sighed through her nose. The reluctance on her face was something I’d seen before.
“…Look,” she said. “I’m not following you. My boss just wants to play you. That’s it. You’re free to decline but this is an opportunity for you to make some money. Nobody’s refused before.”
Money. How could I say no?
I chuckled to myself and nodded.
“Well then, if there’s so much money, how can I refuse?”
Faye rolled her eyes at my sarcasm. I had to admit, it was a little disappointing considering she used to always laugh at my jokes.
“Follow me,” she sighed.
I walked with Faye through the casino. I couldn’t help but notice the way her hips swayed. Her skirt was long but it was tight enough for me to see her figure. The years had been treating her all right. If she heard that, she would’ve slugged me probably. Shit would’ve been worth it though.
I chuckled at my own joke. She turned around and raised an eyebrow at me.
Faye led me into the VIP lounge where I first ran into her. The place was filled with all of the stuck-up bitches and rich pricks you would’ve expected. Some of them were eyeballing me but I didn’t pay any attention to it. I’d been stared at long enough to stop giving a shit about it.
“Th
is way,” Faye said.
She led me into one of the VIP rooms off to the side. Inside, the place was noticeably quieter than the rest of the casino. There were a few poker tables where people were playing cards. There were stacks of cash on the table bundled together so big that you couldn’t hold ‘em with one hand. The men who were playing didn’t just look rich. Mafia. Cartel. Yakuza. Triads. The kinds of men you hoped weren’t sore losers.
Faye and I walked over to the side of the room to a table where there was a lone man sitting. Some fat asshole with an unbuttoned shirt. It was a shame how much of a slob he looked like, considering how expensive his suit probably was. He slicked his hair back over his head and greeted Faye with a smile.
“Here he is,” Faye said to him. “Hunter Jacobson. He just won the most recent poker tournament.”
“Ah,” the man said. “Mr. Jacobson. Thank you for coming.”
“It’s a pleasure, Alvarez,” I said. “When Faye here told me that there was an opportunity for some big money, I couldn’t refuse.”
“Why would you? Only a fool would turn down this opportunity. Please. Have a seat.”
I took a seat at the table across from him. Considering the room I was in and the motherfuckers surrounding me, Alvarez was probably the kind of businessman who did all of his business under the table. Probably drugs. But maybe it was legitimate. Right now, I didn’t give a shit.
Faye moved across the table and stood right next to him. Ever since I’d known her, Faye was always so disciplined. It was strange to think that she was working for someone like Alvarez now.
I eyeballed her, still in slight disbelief that it really was her.
“You won the tournament,” Alvarez said. “How many people was it?”
“Around a hundred,” I said.
“Impressive.”
“I’ve won bigger tournaments before.”
“I don’t doubt that. But winning a single tournament isn’t a simple task. You have to win multiple hands. Those who are able to do it consistently have a real talent.”
“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. Who’s to say?”