Mob rules uc-1

by Cameron Haley

  In this game, I just wanted to loosen up the table and make sure Adan was having fun. I ordered drinks and kept them coming often enough to set a fast pace.

  For the first hour or so, I played just about any two cards and I played passively enough that everyone was eyeing me like a malfunctioning ATM. I handed out my four hundred pretty fast and bought in again. I did it with such good humor that everyone had a nice time.

  When I felt like Adan had to be feeling the drinks, I switched gears. I was sitting to his right, and I started to put some pressure on him. I wanted him thinking about his cards and his chips more than what I was doing with the drinks I was passing him.

  Finally a hand came along that allowed me to get heads-up with him. I drew jack-ten of hearts on the big blind, which meant Adan was the first to bet. He stacked off four ten-dollar chips. That kind of bet in first position told the rest of the table he was playing a premium hand, probably a big pair. The guy on the button had been playing almost as loose as I had, and he cold-called Adan's open. I did the same, adding thirty dollars to the big blind that was already on the table.

  The flop came down nine, eight, deuce, and the last two were hearts. This was just about the perfect flop for me. I had an open-ended straight draw and a flush draw, which gave me better than even odds to get ahead of Adan's big pair by the river. I'd also be the first to act and Adan would be sure to raise any bet I made. That kind of action would likely be too much for our third wheel, and Adan and I would play the rest of the hand mano a mano.

  I opened for seventy dollars, a little more than half the size of the pot. Adan could see the straight and flush possibilities as well as I could, and he wanted to take the pot down right there rather than give them a chance to hit. He pushed all his chips in. The guy to my right pretended to think about it a while and then threw in his cards.

  Now it was on me to either call Adan's bet or fold. It really wasn't much of a decision. I was almost certainly behind in the hand-Adan's bets told me he had a pair, and I had nothing. But I'd win the hand if I caught a heart, queen or seven on either of the last two cards. The rest of the table couldn't know I had so many outs, though, and that gave me license to stare at Adan a while.

  I probably stared at him longer than I had license to-long enough for the dealer to remind me a couple times that it was my action, and long enough for the cocktail waitress to deliver another round. Everyone else at the table was staring at Adan, too, trying to pick up something on him. He stared straight ahead, looking at nothing.

  I leaned back in my chair, tipped the waitress, took the drinks off her tray and poured the vial I was palming into Adan's Scotch.

  "Well," I said, "at least I've got a fresh drink," then I pushed my chips in and called Adan's raise. Adan let out a deep breath and everyone laughed, then nodded sagely when we turned over our cards. Adan was holding kings. The eight of spades came on the turn and the four of diamonds on the river, neither of which was any help to me.

  "You should have folded," Adan said, smiling as he raked in my chips. I didn't mind, because everyone at the table wanted to tell me I misplayed the hand.

  "I thought you were bluffing, you bully."

  "I never bluff," he said, and winked. Then he lifted his drink to his lips…and froze. He frowned.

  "Something wrong?" I asked. My blood pressure spiked a hell of a lot higher than it ever did during the poker hand. Did the potion have an odor? Honey hadn't said anything about it…

  Then Adan laughed and took a drink. "No," he said, smiling at me over his glass, "I was just thinking that I'm getting drunk, but then I decided that was probably your plan."

  I laughed, too. "Sure," I said, "that's obviously the only way I'm going to get my money back."

  "You sure that's the only reason?" he said, and a boyish grin brought those dimples out.

  "A player never shows her cards."

  "I call," he said and drained his glass.

  I woke up at about ten the next morning draped over Adan's chest. He was still asleep, and his soft breaths raised goose bumps on my skin.

  We'd left the card room after one in the morning and gotten back to his loft about half an hour later. We'd started kissing before the front door was closed and we laid down a trail of clothes leading to the stairs up to the bedroom.

  I'd mustered enough moral fortitude to mention the complexity of the situation we were getting ourselves into as I took off my clothes.

  "This is probably a bad idea," I said as I sat on the edge of the bed and fought with my zipper. Adan was kneeling on the floor in front of me. His hands were on my breasts and he leaned in and kissed my neck.

  "You should have thought of that before you got me drunk," he mumbled.

  "Yeah, probably," I said, pulling off my jeans.

  "Oh, well," he said, and nibbled my ear.

  "Yeah."

  "I'll still respect you in the morning."

  "Really?"

  "I mean, I won't respect you any less."

  "Good enough."

  We'd made love most of the night. We did it well enough that, like Honey's glamour, it didn't want to come unmade in the sunlight. Now was the time for morning-after regrets and self-recrimination, but I didn't have either. I was feeling pretty good about the world. After a few days of getting stuffed at the scrimmage line, I felt like I'd finally made some forward progress.

  At the very least, we'd made it through the evening's activities without Adan's evil twin making an appearance. Maybe the potion was working, or maybe it was just dumb luck. Either way, I hadn't had any trouble falling asleep with him, and I still had all my skin where it was supposed to be.

  Despite the weak protests of the night before, I'd blown by the point of no return in our relationship with a smile and a wave. Adan had been plenty of trouble already and he'd probably be even more when I told his father how it was. But I had the idea he'd be worth a lot more trouble than I'd actually get. I didn't feel inclined to worry too much about my boss unless and until.

  There weren't many guys in L.A. I could ever have something with that amounted to more than a friendly roll in the hay. Most of the guys I met were interested in me because I was a gangster, and those were the ones I'd never take seriously. The rest weren't interested in me for the same reason, and those were the ones who made me feel sorry for myself. I couldn't hope for any better than a gangster's son who didn't care either way what I was. Adan, I knew, was a lot better than I deserved.

  Adan stirred and then tilted my chin up to plant a kiss on my mouth. "Good morning," he said, grinning.

  "One of the best," I said and kissed him back. "Sorry, my mouth probably tastes like I brought the casino home in it." Adan tasted just like he always did, like the apples and cinnamon on a freshly baked Washington. That didn't seem fair, and I wondered why I'd never worked up a spell for morning breath.

  "It just tastes like you. I like it." As if to prove it, his head disappeared under the sheets and I stopped thinking for a while.

  Later, we took a shower together, dressed and breakfasted on our cinnamon apple pizza. It tasted so much like Adan it was almost like making love again.

  "Do you have to work today?" he asked when we were done.

  "Yeah, actually, I have a lot to do." I looked at my watch. "I should get going."

  "I want you to stay."

  "I want to, too, but I can't. I still have a job, and it's more important than ever that I do it well. The only legitimate objection your father can make about this is that it interferes with my work." That wasn't the only reason it was more important than ever, but I didn't tell Adan that.

  "You're a very responsible gangster, aren't you?"

  I almost choked on my coffee. Spending the night with Adan was about as far as I could get from responsible. I wasn't going to feel anything but great about it but I wasn't going to call it responsible, either.

  "This thing I'm working on," I said, "it's pretty important. About as important as my job ever gets. If
it weren't for that, you'd have to kick me out."

  "The murders," he said.

  My eyes snapped up to him but I got a hold of them pretty quick. I shouldn't have been surprised he'd heard about it. The outfit is big for an outfit but small for anything else.

  I nodded. "You heard about it, huh?"

  "Yeah, and I heard you were working on it. I heard Jamal was one of the guys that was killed." He was looking at me like we were playing a poker hand.

  "Yes, he was. His parole officer said Jamal was hanging out at the club. That's why I was down there that night."

  Adan nodded, but his eyes didn't leave mine. "And after that?"

  "After that, what?"

  Adan just looked at me.

  "I'm not here because of work, Adan. Is that what you think?"

  "Maybe you think I'm involved somehow, because I knew Jamal."

  "Jamal and the other guy were squeezed, Adan. It was a ritual execution, a hit. The killer is a sorcerer. You couldn't have had anything to do with it, and if I thought you did, this isn't the angle I'd take." I wished it were true, all the way around. I hoped my wishing would make it sound less like bullshit than it did to me.

  "Yeah, okay. I didn't really think so, obviously, but I wanted to hear you say it."

  I nodded as small as I could and smiled, and felt like shooting myself.

  "If you want to ask me anything else about Jamal, I don't mind."

  "If you know anything you think might help, I'll listen."

  "Well, it's like I told you, I really didn't know him very well. Maybe a little better than I told you, that night."

  I just nodded.

  "We hung out after the club closed sometimes."

  "You picked up girls at the club."

  "Yeah, I guess. Jamal showed me his graffiti, too. He tried to explain how it worked, but I couldn't understand half of it. It was cool, though."

  He looked up at me and I nodded again. "Jesus, Domino, you're still not going to ask any questions?"

  "Nope."

  "Okay. The thing is, I was at his apartment the night he was killed. Earlier, I mean. We were pretty drunk and we wanted to smoke some weed."

  "What happened when you got to his apartment?"

  "Finally a question. That's the thing, though, I don't know. I guess I drank too much and I blacked out. I woke up here the next morning and I couldn't remember much about it."

  "You must have been pretty drunk," I said. "Shouldn't have been driving. Do you think Jamal drove you home?"

  "I just don't know, and you're right, that's never happened to me before. I don't see how I could have made it home by myself."

  "Maybe he drove you home and caught a cab back to his place."

  "Yeah, I guess. When I heard about it, though-Jesus, it was like a bad movie. I thought maybe I did have something to do with it, you know, and just couldn't remember. Like temporary insanity or something."

  "What did you do? Did you go to your father about it?"

  "No fucking way. I only found out about Jamal yesterday. One of the guys called me. He said there had been two murders, and I knew I didn't have anything to do with the other one. Anyway, I didn't really think it was me. It was just weird, you know?"

  "Yeah, I'll bet." I remembered how freaked out he'd been after the episode in his loft the night before, when I'd broken in. He'd had plenty of weirdness the last few days, and I was amazed how well he was holding it together.

  "That's about it," he said. "You know, I just didn't want there to be any secrets."

  "I'm glad, Adan," I said. "No secrets." I almost gagged on the words.

  "So do you have any idea who did it? I mean, if you don't mind me asking. Do you think it was those guys I told you about? Papa Danwe's outfit?"

  "I don't mind, but there isn't much to tell. That's what I'm working on, and that's why I have to go."

  The look in his eyes said he'd noticed I didn't answer his question. "Do you think Manfred is involved? The reason I ask is, you know, he didn't like Jamal very much. And he could have followed us that night."

  "It's possible. He couldn't have done the ritual, but he might have been involved. Either way, it wasn't your fault."

  He nodded uncertainly.

  "Jamal wasn't a random victim, Adan. Whether Fred was in on it or not, Jamal got squeezed. You don't set something like that up on a whim. Whoever did him had a reason for it, and that's what I'm trying to find out."

  "I hope you do. Jamal was a cool guy. It's fucked up what they did to him."

  "Whoever did it, I'll find him," I said, standing up. "I don't have the juice to bring Jamal back-no one does-but I can make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else." I sort of did have the juice to bring him back, as it turned out, just not in the way I meant.

  "Be careful, Domino. Look, I know you can handle yourself, and it'd be pretty ridiculous for me to get protective. But be careful. Promise me."

  "I promise," I said, and kissed him goodbye.

  The promise was broken when it came out of my mouth. It was too late to be careful. I had to stick with reckless and try to finish the job before anyone noticed.

  When I got home, Honey was waiting for me with an interrogation lamp and a rubber hose. We went through twenty questions and I ignored the ones I didn't want to answer. That was most of them. She was concerned or jealous or both, but she wasn't angry. I told her the potion seemed to have worked. I told her I was ready for training.

  I went into my bedroom to change clothes and was momentarily defeated. What exactly is proper attire for shadow world training in kung-fu magic? Finally, I decided it didn't matter since my clothes wouldn't really exist in the Between anyway. I opted for running shorts, a sports halter and cross trainers. Honey said I looked like I was ready for yoga class.

  If I'd have known where we were going, I'd have chosen a different outfit. Honey wouldn't say. After we crossed over and were ignored by Mrs. Dawson, Honey told me to follow her into the mist.

  "How do I follow you? We don't actually go anywhere, as far as I can tell."

  "If we both have the same destination in mind, we'll show up there together. Otherwise, we have to stay in physical contact and you have to focus on staying with me. Think of this as the first part of your training."

  Honey zipped off down the street and I went after her. When we reached the mist, she grabbed my ear and pulled me in after her. I focused on staying with her.

  The L.A. Coliseum didn't suffer much in the Between. It didn't seem to be missing too many colors, the way other buildings might. It was drab and ugly in both worlds.

  "The Coliseum?"

  "Sure. What better place to learn how to fight? It's kind of a neutral ground and there are real fights here sometimes, but usually at night. Let's go!"

  Honey zipped through the north entrance of the sprawling stadium, down a couple of ramps and out onto the field. There wasn't much grass to it, just hard-packed dirt. There were certainly no yardlines or goalposts anymore.

  The stands were filled with ghosts. I stood in the middle of the field and turned a full circle. They were different from the ghosts of the Goth kids I'd seen standing in line at the Cannibal Club. They were loud, belligerent and I saw more than one brawl rippling through the densely packed crowd.

  "What's with the peanut gallery?" I asked.

  Honey shrugged. "Raiders fans. They're always here. I guess they're waiting for the team to come back."

  "The Raiders went back to Oakland in ninety-five."

  "Yeah, I guess that's why they're so pissed."

  Before long, the ghosts sitting nearest the field noticed me and the abuse started. Shouted hoots, whistles and catcalls rained down on me. When I gave them the finger, I was answered with intermittent showers of litter, beer bottles, batteries and generic debris that seemed to have been liberated from the stadium itself. A three-hundred-pound guy whose shaved head and naked torso were painted black-and-silver nailed me in the ear with a half-eaten hot dog.


  "Real nice choice, Honey," I said, mining mustard from my ear canal with my pinkie.

  "Yeah, like I said, it's a good place to fight. Nice energy. Plus, do you see the kind of distance they're getting on those throws? They're just ghosts, but they've learned how to use their juice."

  "Well, they've had a lot of time to practice." I picked up a rough chunk of concrete that looked like it had come from the mezzanine facade. I hurled it at the fat guy, but it didn't make the stands.

  "Let's get started," Honey said. "Do you remember when I knocked you down yesterday?"

  "Yeah, both times."

  "And the vampire basically did the same thing, only he hit you a lot harder."

  "I guess."

  "Well, I didn't really use any kung-fu magic. I just moved really fast and ran into you."

  "So…"

  "So that's really all there is to combat in the Between-speed and power."

  "Isn't that all there is to kung-fu fighting in the real world?"

  "Speed and power are good, sure, but the physical world is a lot more complicated."

  "How so?"

  "Well, for example, there are those pesky laws of physics and biology. You have to worry about things like mass, and momentum and conservation of energy, and if you want to hurt someone, you have to worry about things like anatomy."

  "And here?"

  "There aren't any such laws here. There are other laws, I guess, but they're very different. Anyway, in the Between, you don't have any mass, you don't have any anatomy, and neither does your opponent."

  "I just have juice."

  "Right. Juice and thought. Magic and mind. That's what you are."

  "Okay, I'm made of juice. What do I do now?"

  "Magic and mind, Domino. You have to learn to control the magic part with the mind part."

  "So it's like a 'free your mind' thing."

  "Yes, exactly like that," Honey said, and smiled.

  "Are you saying I can dodge bullets?"

  "It's just a movie, Domino."

  "Sorry. How do I do it?"

  "I'll try to hit you again, and you try to dodge out of the way."