AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You got this. I’ll bankroll us if need be.”
Something flickers across her eyes as she turns her head toward me. She looks at me differently now—like I’m not the person she thought I was. I regret telling her about my parents’ wealth, but we might need to rely on it now. Five grand won’t take us far, and I refuse to walk out before we meet with Serge.
“All minimum bets are reached.” The dealer waves his hand over the table and settles it onto the top of the deck. “All players will be dealt two cards, face up, and the house will receive one card. If you receive two cards of the same denomination, you may choose to split the cards by placing a second bet, equal to your first.”
The dealer places the cards out, one by one, with the fluid motion of someone who’s done this action thousands of times before. Hannah receives a pair of eights. It’s not great—starting with sixteen points means a sixty percent chance of losing the round.
“I’ll split,” she says and the dealer slides the two eights apart. Hannah counts another small stack of chips and places them into her betting square. It’s risky, going hard on the first round, but it’s also the move a confident gambler would make—and that’s exactly how we have to come across.
I have no doubt Serge will be watching us.
The woman to the left hits twice, and busts. One of the men stays at eighteen. The other hits and brings his total up to nineteen. I hold my breath as the dealer turns back to Hannah. She hits on her first eight—takes it to twelve, sixteen and then bust. The second hit results in a score of fourteen. Hannah taps the table again and another six comes out. That’s twenty.
I can almost hear her sigh of relief. “I’ll stay.”
The dealer has a five to start with. Then a picture card for a total of fifteen. He needs a six to beat Hannah, or anything less not to bust. His hand glides over to the deck, his deft fingers pulling another card from the neat pile.
It’s a six.
“Blackjack.”
Shit. A flute of champagne has appeared beside Hannah, but both of us were concentrating so hard on the game that we hadn’t even noticed its arrival.
“It’s just a warm-up, my love.” I pretend to whisper the words, but say them just loud enough that the men beside her will hear. “I’m going to take a look around. Will you be okay?”
She nods and pretends to sip her drink, my mother’s ring winking in the light. “Don’t be long.”
I bend down and plant a kiss against her cheek. “Let me know when you’re ready for a bite to eat.”
It’s our code, if she needs me to pull her out. I touch her shoulder for a brief moment, and then wander through the tables as though I’m trying to figure out what to do next. Most of the men here are in custom suits, with expensive shoes and even more expensive watches. For a moment, I’m transported back in time to the parties my mother would throw for all the other overpaid expats and corporate fat cats. I remembered seeing them at the funeral, having them shake my hand. Wondering if anyone really cared or if it was all for show.
They named a boardroom after my father in the bank’s Sydney headquarters. Journalists hounded my grandparents for their comments about the deaths and whether they would sue the bank. They never did.
I often wonder what my parents would think of me now—with no ties and my affinity for fresh starts. I’ve done well in every job I’ve had. I was a great cop and a high-performing security consultant. But my careers, like my relationships, are short-lived.
I rein the memories in, pushing down the pain and channelling it into something greater. My gaze catches Hannah across the room, looking like the only flower in a field of weeds. She’s the only person since Lillian who’s made me wonder whether it’s worth the risk to wish for more. In her arms, I could pretend I had what I’d taken for granted as a child—family, security, love.
Love? I know it exists. But what I feel for Hannah is unlike anything else I’ve experienced. I can’t compare it to teenage love, when that feeling was so pure and untainted. What I feel for Hannah is more...complex. Complicated.
Unwanted, but nonetheless there.
“Excuse me, Mr. Essex?”
I turn to find one of the beefcakes looming over me. “Yeah?”
“Please follow me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Hannah
ITRYNOTto think about the fact that I blew two grand in a single round of blackjack. I try not to think about how much that money could help people in our community—how many meals or school uniforms or books it could buy.
You’re helping the community by bringing down organised crime.
But it doesn’t ease the sting. And without Owen’s calming presence behind me, I’m adrift. The dealer asks us to bet on the next round and I slide my chips forward, fighting a disgusting sickness in my stomach. This time I receive a ten and a two. When I hit, I immediately bust.
Three grand gone. I’m panicking. We’ve only been here fifteen minutes and I’ve lost over half our money. I push up from my chair and thank the dealer, almost tripping over my own feet in order to get away.
