by Jayda Marx
Daddy lifted his fist and knocked on the heavy steel door in a pattern; rap, rap, rap...rap, rap...rap, rap, rap, and a small horizontal rectangle in the door slid open to reveal a set of eyes peering at us through the hole.
"Okay, that's cool," I blurted out. "It's like something from an old gangster movie." Daddy raised his brows at me and I blushed. Oh...right. I'm living a gangster movie.
The window closed again before the door swung open, and we were greeted by a thick man dressed in all black. "Good evening, sir," he told Daddy. "It's nice to see you again."
"You too, Andrew." Daddy pulled a hundred dollar bill from his pocket and handed it over. "You're doing a fine job." Damn. I wish I got a hundred bucks every time I opened a door.
"Thank you, sir. I hope you and your friends…" he looked down at our clasped hands and added, "And your boy have a nice evening." I preened over the fact that everyone knew I belonged to Daddy.
He squeezed my hand and led me down the narrow stone stairs. Once we entered through another steel door, I finally found the party.
Men in suits and women in evening gowns strolled between bustling game tables. Nearly everyone had a drink in their hand, and a song sung in a sultry female voice floated from somewhere beyond my line of vision. Everything was decorated in red and gold, and opulent crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling.
"It's amazing in here."
Daddy kissed the back of my hand in thanks. "Anyone can have a casino with fanny-pack-wearing, chain-smoking grandmas," he shrugged. "We wanted a place with some class."
"I love it."
"If you'll excuse me for a few minutes," Johnny interrupted, "I'm going to see if I can find a lovely lady in need of some company."
"Just a few minutes?" Sal asked with a smirk. "Is that all the longer you can last?"
"Oh, fuck you," Johnny grumbled while the rest of us chuckled. He and Sal wandered off in different directions, leaving Daddy and me alone.
"What looks good to you, rabbit?"
"Everything," I told him honestly. "But I don't know how to play any of these games."
"I'll teach you. But first, we need to get some chips." He led me to a man behind a window, to whom he handed over a stack of cash from his jacket pocket. The man exchanged it for a pile of plastic chips, which Daddy put in my own pocket.
"Let's see…" He surveyed the room before deciding, "Let's start with roulette; the rules are simple."
Daddy took me to a table covered in green material which had numbers printed on it, and at the top was a spinning wheel of red and black stripes with a white marble bouncing around it.
Many people were standing on either side of the table, but when they saw Daddy approaching, they quickly made room for him to stand. Instead, he put me right up to the table and stood behind me, dropping his mouth to my ear.
"After the bets are placed, the croupier spins the wheel. Wherever the pill lands determines who wins their bets." Okay, that seems simple enough. "Some bets have one-to-one payouts because they have higher odds of occurring, while others can pay out up to thirty five times the bet because of lower odds." Okay, that's not simple anymore. I looked up at him in confusion and he gave me a gentle smile.
"So if you place a hundred dollar bet on one-to-one odds and win, you'd get your hundred bucks back, plus an additional hundred."
"Oh, I won't bet that much," I insisted. I was betting with Daddy's money, so I wanted to be careful.
He smirked and told me, "Look at your chips."
I pulled out a handful of plastic circles from my pocket and my eyes bulged when I saw that they were all marked with $100. Shit, I forgot this was a high rollers club. I'm going to lose all of Daddy's money to the casino. Wait...he owns the casino, so he'll get it back in the long run, right?
"What are the one-to-one bets?" I asked. At least this way I'll be less likely to lose money.
"There are many, but to keep things simple for tonight, you can bet that the ball will land on either red or black, or an even or odd number."
"That sounds like fun."
"I'm glad you think so. Now give me a kiss for luck."
I tipped my head back for a kiss to the lips. I loved when Daddy kissed me in public; I loved showing off what a lucky boy I was.
"Place your bets," the croupier called.
I pulled a chip from my pocket and pinched it between my fingers. Hmm, red or black? Red or black? People all around me placed their bets on the table and the croupier spun the wheel.
"You better hurry, rabbit," Daddy urged.
Black! As soon as I lay my chip on the felt, the croupier waved his hand and said, "No more bets!"
I held my breath as the ball bounced along the slots, jumping on and off of the numbers. I chewed my lip as the wheel slowed and finally came to a stop, with the pill nestled in a black slot.
The people around me either cheered or jeered, and I jumped up and down while clapping with excitement. Daddy chuckled and kissed the top of my head.
"Good job, boy. Now take your chips-" he paused as I grabbed my original disk plus the one I won, "And play them both."
“Both of them?”
“Yep; keep your streak going.”
One win didn’t seem like a streak, but of course I did as he asked. When the game master called for bets, I placed both of my chips on red and crossed my fingers. The wheel spun and the ball bounced, and Daddy and I both yelled out in triumph when it stopped in a red slot.
“Now you’ve got four hundred dollars on the table,” Daddy explained. “Play it again.”
Hopeful but worried about how long my luck would last, I held my breath as I slid them onto the “even” section of the table. I wiped my sweaty palms on my suit as I stared at the wheel, silently begging the ball to land on the right number.
“Six!” the croupier called out, and I jumped up and down again.
“I did it, Daddy! Eight hundred dollars! Can you believe it?” I turned around and found the biggest smile on his face.
“Yes I can, rabbit. And I believe in you. I think you should take your pile of chips and put it on one number; risk it all. You could get a very large reward.”
Or I could lose it all. Then again, I only started with one chip, so that’s technically all I would lose; or rather, Daddy would lose. But he wanted me to press my luck and honestly, I wanted to keep playing. It was exhilarating.
I studied the table for a number that spoke to me. My heart stopped when my eyes landed on 21; my age, and when I met Daddy. He completely turned my fortune and life around, and I couldn’t think of a luckier number.
I piled my bet onto the felt square and scrunched my eyes closed; I couldn’t watch. My heart raced quicker with every clack of the ball and my breathing quickened; until the clacking stopped. Then every part of me halted in anticipation.
When the game master called, “Twenty one!”, my mouth went dry and my knees went weak. I stumbled back against Daddy, who caught me in his arms and bounced me up and down.
“You did it, Lucas! I knew you could. Now grab your chips.”
I reached out with shaking hands and scooped the mound of plastic into my palms. I wasn’t sure exactly how much I’d won; I couldn’t do that kind of math in my head, but it was a lot.
“Twenty eight thousand dollars,” Daddy whispered in my ear, as if he heard the question I didn’t ask.
“Holy shit.” I stumbled again, and he hugged me around the waist as he laughed. He never doubted for a moment that I’d win. Hell, it was his casino; maybe he rigged the whole thing so that I’d walk away a winner. Somehow that just made the whole thing sweeter if he did.
“I...I think I’d like to stop playing now,” I told him in a trembling voice. I was still high on adrenaline, but I was sure I didn’t want to risk the huge sum of money.
“Very smart; it’s always good to walk away when you’re so far ahead.” He led me a few steps away from the table. “Let’s see if all of those chips will fit in your pocket.”
“I’ll hold onto these for you,” I said, patting the lump of betting chips I already had in one pocket, “But I think you should keep your winnings in your pocket; that way we won’t get them mixed up.”
Daddy gave me a confused look. “The betting chips are yours and so are the winnings. The whole point of this night was to bring you out for fun and to treat you; everything is yours.”
My eyes prickled as he poured the disks into my pocket until it bulged. He didn’t care about the money; he just wanted me to have a good time. But the truth was, he bought me anything I needed or wanted, so I had very little use for the money. Unless...I smiled when a brilliant idea came to mind.
“I want to use it to buy you something, Daddy.” I’d never been in a position to treat him, and I wouldn’t let the opportunity slip by. I had no idea what I’d get him yet, but it would be something awesome.
He cupped my cheeks with his hands and touched our noses together. “You really are my perfect boy.” He took my lips, kissing me slowly and deeply right there in the middle of the room in front of everyone. When he pulled away, my knees were weak all over again.
“Since you had such good luck with the number 21, there’s another game I want to show you.” He took me down the row of games to a semi-circular table; three men were seated around the curve, and one man stood up behind it.
“This is Blackjack,’ Daddy explained. “The object of the game is to get to the number 21 with as few cards as possible. If you go over 21, you lose. If the card dealer gets closer to 21 than you, you lose. But if you get closer than him without going over, you win.”
“I think I can do that.”
“Of course you can.” He sat on the open stool and pulled me onto his lap. “Place a chip in front of you so that the dealer knows you want to play in this round.”
My pocket chinked when I dug out a disk, which I placed on the table before me. The dealer passed out cards down the line, starting with the player on the farthest right. When he finished dealing, I had an eight and a seven face up in front of me. The dealer had a ten, but his other card was face down.
“He doesn’t have to show both of his?” I asked Daddy in a whisper.
“Not until the end.”
“Well that doesn’t seem fair.”
He chuckled and patted my thigh. “You got this.”
The dealer started with the man on the end again, holding out the deck to offer him another card. As he went down the line, the men either waved their hand and said “Stay,” or they tapped the table and said “Hit me,” and he dealt them more cards until they said “Stay.”
When he reached me, I looked at my cards that totalled fifteen and leaned back to ask Daddy quietly, “What should I do?”
He tickled my neck with his beard and whispered back, “That depends on how lucky you feel.”
Sitting on Daddy’s lap with a pocketful of chips, I felt pretty damn lucky, so I tapped the table and requested, “Hit me.” When a five was placed in front of me, I squealed and Daddy chuckled again. I didn’t have a great poker face. “I’ll stay.”
The man flipped over his own cards and announced, “Dealer has eighteen.”
I whooped and clapped and Daddy hugged me around the middle and said, “Let’s go again.”
We played about a dozen more hands; we won several, lost a few (busting twice), and the rest were a push. When all was said and done, I banked two hundred dollars in winnings. It wasn’t nearly as lucrative as roulette, but I still had a great time.
“How about we take a break from games and go get something to drink?” Daddy suggested, and I nodded.
“Yes, please.”
I hopped off of his lap and he took my hand, leading me past all of the game tables to the opposite side of the casino, which was set up like a lounge. Booths speckled the room, and there was a bar along the far wall. In the front of the space was a stage, and in its center stood a beautiful woman in a sequin dress, crooning her heart out to the tune the band played behind her.
“She sounds incredible,” I said in a reverent whisper, and Daddy nodded his agreement.
“Stella has been with us for nearly five years. She’s our most talented and popular performer; everyone loves her.”
“I can see why.” I watched and listened in awe until Daddy squeezed my hand.
“Come, rabbit.” He took me to a booth in the back corner and ushered me onto the curved bench. The room was dimly lit, and the high backs on the seats gave the place an intimate feel.
As soon as we were settled, a waiter in a bow tie came to take our drink order. Of course, Daddy took the lead, and ordered himself a scotch on the rocks, and a soda for me. It was only a minute or two before our glasses were delivered. After we sipped a little while listening to the lovely song, Daddy pulled a brown leather case from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
He slid off the top, revealing three long cigars. He took one from the holder and replaced the lid before slipping the cutter from a small pocket on the front. I loved to watch Daddy smoke his cigars; he looked sophisticated when he did.
He pushed the end of the cigar through the hole in the cutter and, with a quick pinch of his fingers, the tip fell off in a clean slice. He ran the cigar beneath his nose before replacing the holder and cutter in his jacket, and pulling a lighter from his trousers.
His thumb flicked the striker, and he held the flame about an inch below the cigar, allowing just the heat to light the end of it. After he recapped his lighter, a large cloud of smoke billowed out the cut end of his cigar.
“Did you just blow through it?” I asked in confusion.
“I did. A person should always blow through their cigar before taking the first draw; it keeps the bitterness away so the true flavor comes through.” He wrapped his lips around the tip and took a long, slow draw. After a few moments, he blew the smoke out of his mouth, and then through his nose. He closed his eyes and hummed his appreciation.
“What does it taste like?”
He peeked at me and smiled. “Would you like to try it?”
I chewed my lip as I thought. I stayed away from alcohol and drugs because of my family history, but I was curious about Daddy’s cigars. They weren’t something he seemed addicted to or smoked all the time; just every now and then to relax. I wanted to share something he enjoyed, so I answered, “Sure.”
He passed it over and instructed, “When you suck in, don’t breathe it into your lungs; just let the smoke roll around in your mouth for a few seconds and then blow it out.”
“You don’t inhale?” He shook his head no. “Then how do you blow it out your nose?”
Daddy laughed and squeezed my thigh. “That’s a little trick you’ll learn later.” I nodded and placed the cigar between my lips before taking a long draw. “That’s good; you don’t want to take too much.”
I let the smoke sit in my mouth and studied the flavors; it was slightly sweet, but not overwhelming. It made my tongue tingle after a few seconds, so I blew it out before it became uncomfortable.
“Very nicely done,” Daddy complimented. “How did it taste?”
“Better than I expected; I think I tasted vanilla and...coffee?”
Daddy’s lips burst into a smile. “It usually takes people a long time to be able to taste the subtle notes. I’m not surprised my boy is special.” Greedy for more compliments, I put the cigar between my lips again, but Daddy stopped me with a touch to my hand. “Take a break between puffs. If not, you might get sick; especially on your first experience.”
We passed the cigar back and forth, but Daddy stopped me after my third puff. He didn’t want me to overdo it and get sick; he took such good care of me no matter the situation. He showed me his love in a hundred tiny ways every day.
From the front of the room, the last notes of a song faded away before the next one started, and I recognized it right away as At Last. “Oh, I love this song,” I said as my eyes slid closed. Stella’s soothing voice crawled over me as she
crooned the words and captured me in the moment. I couldn’t stop my body from gently swaying back and forth.
“Do you like to dance?” Daddy asked from beside me.
I opened my eyes and blushed as I nodded. “I do, but I don’t think I’m very good at it.”
“I bet you’re incredible.” He slowly stroked his fingers through his beard. “In fact, I want to see just how good you are.” I blushed even harder, worried he may ask me to dance with him only to find out I wasn’t that great. But that wasn’t Daddy’s way; he had something else entirely in mind. He leaned in towards me and his breath fanned against my cheek when he whispered, “Dance for me, Lucas.”
He said it in a way that told me it wasn’t a request. If I truly didn’t want to do it, I could always use my safe word and Daddy wouldn't force me to do anything, but I never wanted to disappoint him. Besides, he’d never made me feel anything besides sexy and loved, so maybe, just maybe he would like my dancing after all.
I put my hands on the edge of the tabletop to push it away, but Daddy stopped me with a shake of his head. Instead, he patted the tabletop, gesturing with his head for me to climb up.
Oh god. I took a deep, slow breath to steel my nerves, and swallowed hard before asking, “Should I take my shoes off?” I didn’t want to get the table filthy.
“No, rabbit; I want you just as you are.”
A few more deep breaths later, I stood up on the booth seat, and Daddy helped me onto the tabletop. I didn’t look around the room; I was sure others were watching me, but I didn’t want to see them. I kept all of my focus on Daddy; he was the only one I was dancing for.
I started simply, just swishing my hips back and forth. Daddy rested his cigar on the edge of an ashtray and leaned back against the seat cushion, giving me his full attention.
Each time I changed direction, I bent my knees and gave a little dip. Back and forth I swayed to the beat, staring down into Daddy’s hungry eyes.
“Take your jacket off, boy,” he instructed before taking a long sip of his scotch.
Uh oh. I wasn’t expecting this to be a striptease; he usually didn’t like anyone to be able to see my body. I wondered just how stripped Daddy wanted me; part of me hoped that the jacket was enough, while another, wilder part of me wanted to put everything on display for him and damn anyone watching.