Bad Beat

by Carolina Mac

  “I’m the best man?”

  “Hell, yeah, who did you think I’d ask? My old man?”

  When we reached the three bikes, I pulled on my leather gloves. “Let’s get back, boys. Be dark soon.”

  By the time we roared into the driveway at the new house, there were already costumed children on the sidewalk coming our way. I jumped off my bike and left it for Jackson to put away. “I’ve got to hurry and get the candy ready. We’ve got customers coming.” I ran into the kitchen, ripped open the bags of chocolate bars and the boxes of chips and took them to the front door. I was breathless, but ready when the doorbell rang.

  “Trick or treat.” Four small people were at my door with their bags open while a parent stood at the curb.

  “Here you go,” I said, smiling at the little people. “Hope you get tons of candy.”

  Billy came in from the garage. “Can I give candy to the kids, Portia?” he asked. “I’ve never done Halloween before.”

  “Sure, honey. That would help me out. While you do that, I’ll start dinner. Sit on the sofa, have a beer and answer the door when they come.” I opened three beers, handed him one and took one out to Jackson in the garage.

  He was wiping down the bikes and organizing his massive three bay man-cave. There were cabinets all along the one side for storage and a ten-foot workbench with shelves above it at the end of the first bay.

  I slipped my arm around his waist and ran my hand down the front of his jeans. “First night in our new house,” I whispered. “Are you ready for it?” I kissed him.

  “I’m ready right now.” He pressed me up against the wall.

  “I can feel that you’re ready, cowboy. I can feel it.” I laughed and went back to the kitchen to finish making dinner.

  By the time our meal was ready the goblins and little devils had stopped ringing the doorbell. Billy had eaten a load of bite-sized chocolate bars and had a belly ache.

  “Fuck. I shouldn’t have eaten all that chocolate while I was drinking beer.” He made a face with his tongue sticking out. “Didn’t mix.”

  I set the table in the dining room. “Okay, boys. Take a seat for the first meal in our new house. I served steak, baked potatoes and veggies done in foil on the barbecue.

  “This is my favorite,” Jackson said, heaping his plate.

  “It’s my new favorite,” Billy said, spearing another potato.

  “You know my favorite,” I whispered to Jackson so Billy couldn’t hear.

  Jackson looked right through me.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  WITH THE MOVE over and Stan temporarily out of commission, I wanted to plan the wedding and make it happen before another shitstorm hit. Jackson asked me almost hourly if I had made the plans. I had to wonder if he wanted to get married that badly or if he wanted to get the wedding over with for some other reason?

  It was seven a.m. Vegas time on our first day in our new place when I called Rusty at the paint shop. “Hey, Portia. How’s Billy doing?” he asked.

  “Excellent, almost back to normal, whatever that is.”

  Rusty laughed and I heard him light a smoke. “Did the feds put Traynor away?”

  “Yeah, he’s locked in the infirmary for now after Jackson put a bullet in his leg.”

  “Wish I’d been there for the action.”

  “I want you here for some different action on the weekend. I’m planning our wedding for Saturday if you can make it?”

  Rusty exhaled and whistled. “The bike I was going to paint tomorrow I can put off until Monday or Tuesday, no problem. Can’t believe Jackson is getting hitched. Must be a blue moon in the sky or something.”

  “Or something, that’s for sure,” I said. “I’m going to book you a ticket and call you back with the flight number and the time, Rusty. I’m so glad you can come.”

  I called the airline and booked Rusty’s flight for four on Friday, getting him into Vegas around seven-thirty. Thinking about what I was going to wear, I filled my mug with coffee and was adding the cream when Billy ambled into the kitchen. “I’m planning the wedding, Billy. I talked to Rusty this morning and he’ll arrive tomorrow night, but I don’t want Jackson to know. I’m saving it for a surprise.”

  Billy frowned and shook his head.

  “What?”

  “With Jackson talking to Rusty a dozen times a day, how will he not know?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess it doesn’t matter.”

  “He won’t hear it from me, Portia. I swear. I’m surprised you guys are having the wedding so soon.”

  “Jackson wants the wedding right away. I want you to be happy for us, Billy. I know you’re a bit attached to me, but we can all be happy together.”

  “A bit attached, Portia?” He shook his head and his golden curls flopped down over his face. “I need a smoke,” he said, retreating to the patio table.

  My eyes welled up feeling the depth of his crush on me, but as much as I cared for Billy, I loved Jackson with all my heart. The next couple of days would be awkward.

  Jackson swaggered into the kitchen and caught me wiping my eyes. “What’s the matter, baby?” He took me in his arms and held me. “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m planning our wedding, and I’m all emotional.”

  “Hope I don’t cry at my own wedding,” he chuckled.

  “After breakfast, I’m going to shop for a dress,” I said. “You and Billy would look great in your leathers. That’s the look I want—you guys looking like you, but maybe with a crisp white shirt under your cut.”

  Jackson and Billy took coffee out to the patio and smoked while I made breakfast. I called all over Las Vegas looking for a chapel with an opening. They were all fully booked for months in advance, but I lucked out and got a cancellation at the Viva Las Vegas Chapel. I booked the Pink Caddy wedding for three o’clock on Saturday. Some couple had thought it over and decided in the negative. I took one look at Jackson and shook my head. No. The negative vibes I was getting from Jackson were just putting me on edge. I wish I knew what was going on with him.

  INSIDE THE FASHION Mall on Las Vegas Boulevard, I didn’t know which store to attack first there were so many choices. Dozens of windows dressed with high-end selections—enough to make your head spin. I steered away from anything too fancy or frilly. Something simple, elegant and fitted was what I had in mind. Three hours later, I had narrowed it down to two choices. One was pale pink strapless with a little jacket, and the other was cream satin with spaghetti straps. I bought both because I was exhausted, picked out shoes and a bag in a pearl tone that would go with either one and went home.

  “Halloo,” I hollered, as I came in the front door. No one answered me. I noticed the note on the counter scrawled in Jackson’s hand. ‘Gone to Mirage’. Damn. The Mirage was only blocks away from where I was shopping, and now I was way out by the canyon. I took my bags into the bedroom and after hanging everything up, I changed and refreshed my makeup. I texted Jackson, told him I was coming and asked him to put my name on the poker list.

  The taxi sat honking in the driveway by the time I had Angel settled and I headed back into town. The boys were seated at two different tables in the poker room when I arrived. I said hi to both of them and peeked at their chip stacks while I waited for my name to come up. Jackson had just hauled in a small pot when my name was called and I was shown to my seat. I sucked in a breath when the pit boss pointed to the seat right next to Billy.

  While I stacked my chips in neat rows in front of me and waited for my blind, Billy leaned over and whispered, “Sorry about before, Portia. Are we okay?”

  I nodded, smiled and relaxed a little. Billy was in seat three and I was in four. Seat five on my left was a bald guy with a mustache who hadn’t stopped talking since I sat down. I was not a fan of chatter at the table and Billy was unusually quiet. The button passed me and I posted. My hand was pocket deuces.

  Seat eight called the blind, seat nine, a lady in a black cocktail dress raised to twenty-five b
ucks. Seats ten, one and two folded. Billy called, I called. The bald guy on the puck called. The small blind folded. The big blind called. Seat eight called the raise.

  Six players. The flop came Ace-King-Deuce, rainbow. Seat seven checked, seat eight checked, seat nine bet forty dollars. Billy folded. I raised to eighty. The bald guy beside me folded. Seat seven and seat eight folded. Cocktail dress called the raise.

  Heads up. The turn was Trey of diamonds. Seat nine checked. I bet a hundred. She called.

  Heads up. The river card was a King. Cocktail dress checked. She didn’t have Ace-King, she had Ace-Queen I guessed, or she was setting me up for an all-in after I bet. I checked and turned over my boat. She threw her cards at the dealer. The dealer glared at her and pushed me the pot.

  I smiled and glanced at Billy. He winked at me. I could see Jackson from where I was sitting, one table over, and he had a lot of chips in front of him. The dealer dealt a new hand. I peeked at my cards and saw Ace-Jack of hearts.

  Cocktail dress called the blind, seat ten called¸ seat one raised to thirty bucks. Seat two folded, Billy called the thirty, I called, bald guy called, seat six on the button called. The small blind folded. Seat eight folded. Cocktail dress folded. Seat ten called the raise.

  Six players. The flop was Four-Six-Jack, two hearts. Seat ten checked, seat one bet another thirty bucks, Billy called, I raised to ninety. Everyone folded around to seat one. He called the ninety and Billy called me.

  Three players. The turn was Trey of hearts. I bet a hundred, seat one folded and Billy pushed all in. I started laughing and said ‘call’ with the nut flush. The river was a brick. We checked and turned our hands up. I had the nut flush and he had a straight flush with Five-Seven of hearts. I high-fived him and we ordered more beer.

  Jackson cashed out and came over to see if we were ready to leave. Billy had a nice stack of chips, and I was about even. “Let’s have dinner before we go home,” I said.

  “On me,” said Jackson. “I made some decent cash.”

  “Billy did pretty well, too,” I said. “He took all my chips.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” he said, looking too serious.

  “Did to.”

  “Did not.”

  I punched him in the arm and he grinned.

  “Where’s your truck, baby?” Jackson asked.

  “I took a cab, so I could come home with you guys,” I said. “I was tired from all that dress shopping.”

  “Did you get the right dress?” he asked.

  “I hope so.”

  We stopped at Red Lobster on the way home and Jackson bought us dinner out of his winnings. The boys were always hyped after playing poker, and I was starting to understand why. Winning was like a drug.

  When we got home, the boys went online looking for a casino with a bad beat jackpot. I went straight into a hot bubble bath and then crawled into bed. Jackson came to bed soon after.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “Already found it,” he whispered, taking me in his arms.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  UNTANGLING MY LEGS from the sheets, I called to Angel, “I’m coming, girl.” I padded through the living room to the garden doors and let Angel into the yard. “Hey, Billy, you’re up already. I didn’t hear a thing until the dog woke me.” He was sitting outside smoking.

  “Couldn’t sleep,” he said. “I have a lot to think about.”

  “I won’t interrupt you, then. I’ll make the coffee.”

  “Can we talk, Portia?” he asked softly and touched my hand.

  I nodded. “I’ll be right back.” I started the coffee maker and went back to the patio and sat down opposite Billy. His aqua blue eyes were sparkling in the sun. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what Billy was going to tell me. I thought it might make things more difficult for us. “I’m listening.”

  Billy butted out his smoke. “You know how I feel about you, Portia, and it’s nothing new. I’ve always felt this way.” He paused and sucked in a big breath. “I would never do anything to screw Jackson over. He’s like my brother and he deserves a woman like you. But I wrote a song for you, and I want to know if I can sing it at the wedding.”

  I exhaled a big breath and smiled. “You wrote a song? That’s amazing. Of course, you can sing it at the wedding. I’ll love it, I know I will.” I hugged him and mussed up his curls. “I’ll get us a coffee.”

  Jackson stood in the kitchen leaning on the counter when I went to get the coffee. He put his arms around me and kissed me. “One more day, and you’ll be Mrs. Jackson Traynor. Tomorrow will be the proudest day of my life.”

  “Mine too, Jackson. I love you, honey.” I touched the dark stubble on his face.

  After breakfast, I cleaned up the house, not too difficult with most of the rooms bare. Before I dressed for the day, I tried both dresses on again in front of the mirror and I was leaning towards the pink one. For the past two days, the foremost thought in my head was what to get Jackson for a wedding gift. I needed it today, and still no clue on what to buy him.

  “I’ll be out for a while, guys.” I stuck my head into the garage and hollered. Jackson had the radio on in the Hummer blaring out country music. He and Billy were covered in grease from pulling an oversize tire off one of the bikes.

  I hope that grease washes off by tomorrow.

  Since my brain was coming up empty on what to get Jackson, I headed for the Harley store for inspiration. After walking once around, looking at all the merchandise aimed at bikers, I decided on the jukebox, a reproduction of the old Wurlitzer, with the colored lights up and down the sides. The modern version was outfitted to hold tons of CDs and Jackson could play country music while he worked in his man-cave. I explained that I was buying it as a wedding gift for my husband and the store manager promised me delivery for ten o’clock the following morning. I blew out a big breath. On the way home, I picked up a take-out order for the boys at Wendy’s.

  The boys hooted when I gave them their bag of junk food. And I left them to eat while I went over the wedding plans. Everything was pretty simple with the chapel handling the details at their end. All I had to do was dress myself and the boys, and get us there on time. I figured tonight would be a poker night after Rusty arrived, so I took a nap.

  When I emerged from the bedroom, the boys were at the kitchen counter looking up the bad beat jackpots. “Red Rock Casino has the biggest one right now,” Jackson said, “And it’s right in our own backyard. We don’t even have to go to the strip.”

  “We can head over there right after we pick up our wedding guest,” I said, cracking open a beer. “How does the bad beat work, anyway?”

  “The casino has a set of rules,” said Jackson. “They set down how high the hands have to be to win the big money.”

  “Yeah, like what?” I asked.

  Billy jumped in. “Like quad eights and higher get beat by something better.”

  “Different casinos have different hands that are high enough,” said Jackson. “Who’s the guest?”

  “Rusty,” I said. “We’re only having one wedding guest.”

  “Fuck, this is gonna’ be good,” Jackson hooted.

  Billy flashed one of his infectious smiles. “Tonight’s your stag, buddy. Me being the best man, it’s my sworn duty to get you drunk out of your fuckin mind.”

  Jackson shook his head and punched Billy. “I’m playing poker at my stag, and I want to be sober enough to see my fuckin cards. What if I’m so pissed I don’t even know if I’ve got the bad beat?”

  “I’ll lean over and tell you, asshole. I’m the one with the head full of brains.” He punched Jackson back harder.

  “Your head ain’t full of brains, it’s full of shit.”

  I laughed and waved my arms to shoo them out of the kitchen. “Can you two grease monkeys get cleaned up while I make a quick supper? We’re out of here inside of an hour.”

  The boys came out of the shower looking as good as new. I don’t know how they
got all the grease off, but it was gone. They were both wearing clean jeans and their Toby Keith concert shirts.

  I snorted. “Did you guys plan to look like a matched set?”

  “Just happened,” said Billy. “Must be fate. My Mom used to show me the Tarot cards when I was younger. She could tell the future, she said.”

  “I have Tarot cards, but I don’t know a lot about reading them. I need lessons,” I said. Billy didn’t speak often about his mother.

  Jackson frowned. “Nobody can tell the future. It just happens and then it’s the present. When it’s gone by it’s the past.”

  “Ain’t you the fuckin genius.” Billy scooped a huge mound of potato salad onto his plate.

  The boys cleaned up all the salads and the pastrami sandwiches. I threw the plates into the sink, fed Angel and we were off to McCarran to collect Rusty.

  His flight was on time, but he was slow coming through customs for some reason. The airport was packed with weekend visitors all anticipating a fun time in Vegas. We sat and waited.

  After all the passengers had come through the gate, an auburn-haired tank of a man in ripped jeans and a leather jacket came through the doors.

  “What took you so long?” asked Jackson.

  Rusty shrugged. “Oh, the usual. Nothing serious.”

  Jackson nodded as if he knew what ‘the usual’ entailed and took Rusty’s luggage.

  “Thought you were dead meat, asshole,” Rusty said as he punched Billy. “Jackson’s dad is one mean bastard.”

  “He got me in a headlock I couldn’t break. That fucker is so strong from fighting in prison, his arms are like iron. He pounded me in the face until I passed out. When I came to on the floor, he shot me in the leg so I couldn’t get up or follow him,” Billy said. “I’d like to kill the prick.”

  “Me too,” I said. “I’m going to.”

  Rusty raised his eyebrows and nodded at Billy, “That could happen.”

  We found the Hummer, stowed Rusty’s luggage and headed for the casino.

  “Tonight’s Jackson’s stag,” said Billy. “We’re getting’ him drunk and dumping him in the canyon.”