AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Gia looks away and says, “I need to go. I thought we could just be friends, but…I just need to go.”
“Hey,” I say softly. “You don’t need to go.”
She pulls some cash from her purse and puts it on the table, and I put a hand out to stop her.
“No, I’ve got this. Gia, don’t leave.”
“I need to. I’ll talk to you later.” She slides out of the booth, not making eye contact with me.
“Come on, at least let me drive you.”
“No, I’m good.”
She leaves the diner then, and the only thing I know for sure is that she’s not good at all. And I’m not either.
Chapter Twelve
Gia
Maverick: I shouldn’t have pushed you like I did. I’m sorry.
I’ve read his text at least twenty times since he sent it several hours after I left the diner we had breakfast at. An entire day has passed since then, and I haven’t responded. I don’t know what to say.
I know what I want to say, but I also know what I should say. My poker game is as sharp as it’s ever been. I’ve reached the point where I can start playing both in casinos but also in private games, where I can win pots that will grow my bank balance quickly.
Once I have enough money saved to pay for the rest of my brothers’ college educations, I can move on to the next phase of my plan. If all goes well, I could get there within three months.
The stakes are about to go up, though. I have to be entirely focused on poker to hold my own at the private games, where I can not only win big, but also lose big. Those are the games the best players are usually at. I’ve heard of people losing not just money in those games, but also cars, jewelry and other things I can’t imagine ever staking in a game. Jerry, a friend of my dad’s who has been living and playing poker in Vegas for years, told me he was once playing in a private game where a guy at the table lost his prosthetic leg. His opponent had no use for it, but thought it would be funny to see him stake it and hop out of the game on one leg if he lost it.
He did. And the guy who won the prosthetic leg displayed it on the same wall he kept his poker trophies and other memorabilia on.
Private games are where people lose not just their money, but also their heads. There’s no way to reach my end destination without playing in them, though. And I never stake more than I can afford to lose.
With a heavy sigh, I lie back on my couch and text Maverick back.
Me: It’s okay. I overreacted. I’m just in a weird place right now.
Maverick: Are you at the sex toy shop off the Strip with the Elvis mannequin wearing a dildo?
I laugh, wondering if that’s a real thing.
Me: How did you know?
Maverick: Well, I didn’t want to say anything, but I could tell you were into Elvis porn the moment I saw you.
Me: Jailhouse Cock?
Maverick: Pound Dog?
I rack my brain for another Elvis title, trying to remember all the songs I’ve heard on dive bar jukeboxes over the years.
Me: Blue Suede Balls?
Maverick: Wow, there’s a visual. You win. Am I forgiven?
Me: You are. What are you up to?
Maverick: Just finished showering after practice. You?
Me: Just woke up a little bit ago. It’s hard to sleep regular hours on my night off.
Maverick: Have you ever been to a hockey game?
Me: No.
Maverick: Want to come to one of mine sometime?
Me: Sure, that sounds like fun.
When I look at my phone screen for his response, I see Ro’s name instead. She’s calling me.
“Hello?” I say in answer.
“Gia,” she moans. “I need you.”
I sit up straight on the couch, the tone in her voice worrying me. “What’s going on, Ro? Where are you?”
“I’m…close to Caesars. I was…no, I’m okay, thanks.”
“Ro?” I run into my bedroom to get dressed.
“Sorry,” she says, groaning. “I fell, and I’m on the ground and people keep stopping to see if I need help.”
“You fell?”
“Yeah, it was stupid. I tripped on my own foot on these concrete stairs.” Her voice gets fainter as she talks to someone. “My friend is coming to get me. No, don’t call an ambulance.”
“Ro!” My heart hammers with panic. “Have them call an ambulance if you need one! Are you bleeding?”
I grab my car keys and bag, racing out the door of our apartment.
She whimpers on the other end of the phone. “I’ve got a few scrapes, but it’s my left ankle that’s…just come, okay? Get here as soon as you can.”
I fly down the three flights of stairs outside our building. “I’m on my way!”
My phone dings with a text from Maverick, and I realize I just ditched our conversation when Ro called. I select his name to call him.
