Seven Card Stud (Stacked Deck Book 7)

by Emilia Finn

  “Uh… no, ma’am, I didn’t sa– I didn’t… no.”

  “My daughter is smart,” Mom barks. “She’s levelheaded. She thinks things through. And even if things got out of control and a guy grabbed her, she’s smart and strong enough to know how to get out of a bad situation.”

  “So… uh… with all due respect,” Will hedges. “What’s the problem?”

  “Daddy isn’t as understanding,” I answer for us both. “He broke her heart. Fuck. I need to go find her.”

  “Don’t.” Mom grabs my arm before I take off. “The others already went. Can you… just…” She brings a hand up to rub at her temple. “Shit. Alright. Someone needs to remove the Bakers before we kill them.”

  “I’ve got them,” Will growls. “Consider it done.”

  “But you can’t fight them.” Mom turns to meet his eyes. “I know you have beef with Kyle already. But if you can’t get it done without fists being thrown, I’ll give the job to someone else.”

  “I’ve got it, Mrs. Kincaid. I won’t throw a single strike. You have my word.”

  Nodding, she turns back to me for a moment. She’s speechless, when I’m not sure that’s ever happened before.

  “Um…” She draws a deep breath. “Can you go break your father and uncle up? If I have to go in there, they’re gonna walk away in pain. I don’t have the patience not to hurt them right now.”

  I pull her in for a fast hug. “I’ve got it, Momma. I promise.”

  “I’m so mad, baby.” Her breath shudders as she looks up to my eyes. “I’m a little mad at Bean, because she lied. But I’m really mad at your dad. He wouldn’t even hear her out.”

  “She’s his baby.” I look to Will and acknowledge what I knew all along. “A guy can get a little irrational when it comes to our babies. Daddy’s allowed his minute to freak out, but if he doesn’t apologize soon, then Uncle Jon will have to step aside while Dad and I go a round.”

  She only scoffs and pulls out of my arms. “You sound so tough, baby. But if you saw the pictures…” She shakes her head. “Don’t look at the pictures. It’s better if you don’t.”

  I groan. “It’s bad? Really bad?”

  “It’s… more than your dad could handle.”

  “Fuck.”

  She brings her phone up and redials. “I need to find your sister.”

  “Leave it to Smalls. You know they can read each other’s minds. She and Mac will find her.”

  “Oh god. That too.”

  “What?” I throw my arm around her shivering shoulders and head toward the door. “What too?”

  “Bean shoved your father.” She moans as though in pain. “She squared up, baby.”

  “No shit?” My lips twitch into a playful grin. “I’m kinda mad I missed it. She never squares up.”

  “She did, and it was big. Of all the rebellions she could have chosen, this is the one she’s going with? God.”

  She groans as we step through the gym doors and Uncle Jon pushes to his knees. He winds his arm back, smacks my dad on the jaw, then Dad bridges, rolls, and gives one back.

  “Stop them, honey. If you accidentally hit them in the process, that’s okay. I won’t even get mad. Jim! Get your stupid ass up off the ground and go apologize to your daughter.”

  “Fuck I will!” he roars. He lays out flat on the ground, despite the fact I have yet to touch either of them. Chest heaving, gulping for breath, I look into my father’s tear-filled eyes and am forced to swallow the emotion that lodges in my throat. “She stripped and whored herself out, Bubs!”

  Whored? I spin with wide eyes. “Mom?”

  Mom steps forward, kicks her husband in the ribs by accident much the same way Cam accidentally steals things. Then she leans over him and glowers. “Call her a whore one more time, James, say one more mean thing, and you and I will have problems.”

  “I didn’t say she was a– Bubs, I…” When Mom says nothing, when her eyes shout things she would never dare say out loud, he stops as a single tear slides over his cheek. “Fuck, Bubs.”

  “Get up.” She reaches down and offers a hand. Pulling him to his feet, she releases him with a huff of impatience, and instead goes to Uncle Jon. She pulls him to his feet too, pats his shirt clean, then shakes her head. “I can’t decide if I’m mad at you as well, so I’m just gonna not talk to you for now.” She turns back to me. “Go weigh in. Take this effing crowd with you.” She throws an arm toward the dozens of fighters who crush into the too-small space. “If anyone is still standing here after I count to twenty, you’ll be dropped from the tournament. No second chances, no fucking bullshit. Get out of my face, get out of my family’s face. Except you.”

  Mom told me to break up the family fight, but she did it herself. She delegated the Bakers to Will… but she moves forward now and snatches Kyle’s arm when he tries to spin away.

  “You! You sniveling, rat bastard, fucking prick. You just get off on hurting my family, huh?” She squares up to him. Broadens her shoulders when he broadens his. She’s blind to the half dozen men that stand behind her. She doesn’t need the backup. She never has. “What is wrong with you? Is your dick so small that you have all this spare time on your hands?”

  Daddy is heartbroken, but it goes forgotten when Kyle leans closer to my mom. Uncle Jon has no clue if he’s in trouble, but that’s not on his mind as he comes closer to guard his sister’s other side.

  To me, she’s my mom, strong and formidable, champion fighter, and brutal disciplinarian when me and my cousins accidentally blow up buildings. But to Jon, she’ll always be the toddler he starved for, the toddler he took beatings for.

  “Listen up, Kincaid.” Kyle sneers in Mom’s face. “You’d better watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

  “You think you’re so tough, huh?” She steps closer, unafraid, and balls her fist. “My niece didn’t wanna know you, she was always too damn good for you and your gym, but because of that rejection, you make it your business to try to screw things up around here?”

  “I didn’t force your daughter to make that bet, lady. She’s grown the fuck up; can’t you tell from the titties she showed off while sliding on a pole?”

  “You motherfucker!” I rush forward to permanently shut his mouth, but my mom is faster. She might be smaller than him, shorter, not as strong. But elbows to the face hurt no matter which way you slice it.

  She grabs the back of his head like she might like to pull him down for a kiss, then she slams her elbow against his cheekbone and nose until blood sprays onto the floor and her shoes.

  “You’re not used to respecting women, Kyle Baker. But that bullshit ends here!” Mom claws at Daddy’s arm when he scoops her up to drag her away. “This is the last time you will disrespect women while associated with our tournament.”

  “Reid!” Kyle holds his nose, and tries to cup the pouring blood.

  When his brother gives no response, Kyle spins to find Reid leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded and a smirk plastered over his face. “Reid!”

  Reid only shrugs. “You disrespected a mom. This is your war, brother. I will not die in it.” He turns to Mom and smiles. “I’m walking away before you count to twenty. Nice elbow, Mrs. K.”

  And with that, he lifts his chin and spins away to follow the crowd until the only people left are my family, Quinns, and a single fucking Baker.

  “Leave,” Mom growls at Kyle. “Get out of my gym, my town, and my family’s life.”

  “I paid my buy-in,” he spits back. “I’m in this tournament whether you like it or not, bitch.”

  “And you were already beat up by a girl. Let’s go.” Will moves forward to grab Kyle, but he stumbles. It’s like a real stumble, and Mom instinctively throws her arms out to catch the guy who’s easily a hundred pounds heavier than her.

  But then Will’s fist swings out, it slams against Kyle’s jaw, and smack! Kyle drops to the floor like a bag of sand, and Will’s footing is suddenly okay again.

  “Shit, Baker. My bad
.” Will lowers to a knee to tap Kyle’s cheek. “I didn’t mean to do that, man. I stumbled.”

  “Fuck you,” Kyle garbles over slurred words. “Fuck you.”

  “But I already heard you have a tiny dick. So that’s a no.” He leans in and grabs Kyle under the arm. Heaving with exertion, lifting the heavyweight fighter with a reddening face, Will straightens his back and turns to Mom. “I stumbled.”

  Mom only nods and pats Will on the shoulder. She sighs; exhaustion, resignation. “Yeah, I saw you. I’m so glad you didn’t hurt yourself.” She turns to Daddy, to Uncle Jon. To Aunt Tink, and the rest of our crowd. “I would normally ask Bean to take a look at him. Check his pupils or something.”

  “We’ll call Luc.” Aunt Kit moves behind the desk. “Baker’s awake, he’s standing, and he’s still mean as a damn snake, so he’s fine. But I’ll call Luc.”

  “I’m gonna sue you motherfuckers,” Kyle growls. “I’ll sue you until you have nothing left.”

  “Sue them for what?” Sophia steps forward. “There isn’t a soul here that saw you get hit. And that security feed up there,” she nods toward the cameras installed in the corners, “wasn’t switched on this morning. That was my job, and hell, but I forgot to do my job.” She looks down at her nails, as though to inspect a new manicure. “I’m just a woman, ya know? Klutzy and forgetful. And you, Mr. Baker.” She brings a hand up to touch her top lip. “You have a bleeding nose and a headache, but we’re in a fight gym, you see? And hell, that’s a common injury around here. Now move along, son, before you annoy me.”

  “Your family is as crooked as mine!” Cam throws her head back and laughs hours later, when the drama subsides and both Bakers have left to lick Kyle’s wounds. “Your mom hit the dude, your dad was fighting with some other dude, and the security feed wasn’t switched on.” She smacks my arm as I lean against the hood of my car and she walks laps in front of me. “Damn, Secretary, but we aren’t so different at all.”

  Snorting, I fold my arms over my chest to combat the cold. Cam wears jeans and a coat. Not enough layers, but the cold doesn’t seem to affect her as she walks and burns energy to stay warm. “And you got to see Sophia Solomon take care of business the way she knows how.”

  “I can’t believe I sorta met Sophia Solomon today.” She stops walking and turns to me with awe in her eyes. “She was right there! She’s famous, ya know?” She steps closer until I simply open my legs and allow her in between. “I don’t mean because of Checkmate, or because of who she married. I don’t mean because she was on the TV for Stacked Deck, and I don’t mean for a billion other reasons. I mean…” She pulls in a heady breath, then lets it out on a smile. “She’s famous for dancing. She was at least a half dozen of the YouTube clips I watched when I was growing up, but I swear, she was perfectly proper in the videos. Not like she was today.”

  She stops, and rests her hands on my shoulders. “I’m star-struck,” she sighs. “Because I almost met Sophia freakin’ Solomon.”

  “Almost?” I chuckle. “I was right there. You met her.”

  “But I swallowed my tongue,” she counters. “I was the big dope who couldn’t talk properly. So instead of saying it was nice to meet her, or hell, ‘you’re famous and amazing, and if science allowed it, I’d have your babies,’ what did I say?”

  I drop my eyes and snort.

  “I said yeah. Yeah!” she repeats on a cry of despair. “She said ‘hey, my name is Sophia.’ I said yeah! She said it was nice to meet me. I said yeah!” She claws at her face and cries at the moon. “She asked if I was a dance fan, and I said, ‘nice to meet you too’. Ugh! Shoot me now, Jamie Kincaid. Because I have no reason to live.”

  “You’re dramatic as fuck.” I take her hands, tug them away from her face, and grin when her butt chin winks and draws my eyes. “This is fun.”

  “What’s fun?” she demands. “And no it’s not! It’s mortifying.”

  “This version of you. This nervous, insecure version. I’ve only met the mean Cam, the bitter one who has a comeback for everything. But now you’re nervous… and shit, that’s kinda sexy in itself.”

  Her dramatics stop. Her growls, her cries, her rendition of what happened inside. It all stops as her eyes come back to me and her pupils grow. The snow has begun falling again, soft, gentle flakes floating to the ground as Cam stands between my legs and her hands rest in mine.

  “Today’s been kinda big,” I murmur. “Lots of shit happening, and because of that, some things are being pushed aside. But that thing you said this morning…” I swallow, and let my eyes flicker between hers. “I was being pushy, and instead of pushing back, you said you were scared.”

  She tries to shrug me off and adopt her steely exterior. “Don’t worry about that. Just forget—”

  “I’m sorry for scaring you.” I tug her just a little closer, and absorb her scent when her chest presses to mine and her breath feathers across my lips. “I was being a pushy jerk because… I don’t know. I guess it felt a bit like a game.”

  Her brows furrow with insecurity. “So you don’t actually think we belong together?”

  It’s insane that she should seem worried now. Insecure about my answer. Scared of rejection.

  “No, I do,” I return quickly. “I really do. But the push and pull we had going, the tug-of-war; that was the game. I thought it’s what we were doing, and I guess the more I got a reaction out of you, the more I turned up the heat. But it’s not cute or funny when it reaches the point of scaring you.”

  “I wasn’t scared that you would hurt me.” She tries to sound confident, but her words come out on a rasped whisper. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “I know.” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and savor the way her eyes drop to the movement.

  “I can look after myself,” she grumbles in defiance. “I can put you down if I have to.”

  “I know.” I pull her just a little closer, until the tip of her nose touches my jaw. “You’re strong and capable. You’re smart, and you have fast hands. You’re a street kid through and through, and I know enough of those to know not to underestimate them.”

  “I was nervous to come back and see you,” she admits. “For months, while Will turned up his training, I was nervous about what would happen when we got back to town.”

  “Because I’m pushy and rude?”

  She shakes her head, and glances down to study our joined hands. “Ridiculously, I was nervous you’d have gotten a new girlfriend, a new obsession. I told you no a bunch of times, but then the reality hit that maybe you’d listened, and for some reason, that put cramps in my stomach.”

  She likes me. She fucking likes me!

  “I kissed another girl while you were gone,” I admit. I wait for her eyes to come to mine. “I wasn’t sure if I was romanticizing the memory of our kiss. Maybe it was just the newness, or the deadline, knowing you would be leaving town. There were a million reasons why my mind would trick me and tell me your kiss was the way it was.”

  “So you kissed another girl?”

  I study her lips and nod. “I did. I kissed her twice, just to make sure.”

  She swallows. “And what did you find out?”

  “That I either have a really good imagination, or a really poor memory. Because shit, I could feel in here,” I grab her hand and place it on my heart, “I felt like what we had was more. But I couldn’t remember it clearly. Was my memory fact, or was it my imagination? Was my memory watered down, or turned up? Was it all bullshit? Hell, did you even exist, or were you in my dreams?”

  I slide my hand along her arm, up over her neck, and into her hair to nudge her just a little closer. “For a whole year, I wondered if you even existed. I couldn’t find you anywhere. Your name doesn’t show up in any Google searches. You have no social media presence. You left no phone number. I couldn’t even find Will, and the amount of times I searched for him leans toward gay.”

  She bursts out in soft laughter that scorches right down my throat and i
nto my lungs. “He’s not online much. I’m not surprised you couldn’t find him.”

  “And you?” I lift a brow. “I searched for you. And the longer it went that I found nothing, the more I wondered if I dreamed the whole thing up.”

  “I was working,” she murmurs. “I was busy paying the bills, and trading stolen goods for dance lessons.”

  “Gangster,” I chuckle. “We have a week until the tournament is over and you leave again.”

  “So it’s best if you get over me,” she murmurs. “A week a year is hardly enough time to make something worthwhile.”

  “Not if you do it right.” I pull her in until our lips touch and the tension in her shoulders dissolves. “Give me a week, Cam. Give us a week where we kiss more than we argue.” I slide my tongue over her bottom lip and feel it again. She wasn’t a dream, she wasn’t made up, and my memory didn’t embellish. “Just one week, and then we’ll reevaluate.”

  “It’s impossible,” she shakes her head. “This whole thing… it can’t work.”

  “It can work, because we’ll make sure of it.”

  “You have a girlfriend,” she argues. “I met her last year.”

  “No. I had a female friend. I had several of them. And I kissed them all in search of the thing I found when I kissed you.” I pull her in until her chest presses to mine and her hips touch my thighs. “The fact you have it when no others do means something.”

  “Jamie, I…” She wants this. She’s terrified. “This isn’t something that will end with wedding bells and smiles. I can almost guarantee it’ll end with bleeding hearts and me disappearing into the night.”

  “Stop thinking about the goodbye,” I groan. “Live in the now. Instead of worrying about what will happen in a week, be here with me. Be right here.” I press my lips to hers and swallow her sigh. “Stop overthinking the things you can’t control. For right now, give me your number. Let me call you tonight. Let me have that much.”

  “Okay.” Hesitantly, she nods and kisses me back. “Alright. I’ll give you my number. But when it’s all done…”