Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
HUNTER
It felt as if I’d been up for three straight days.
Not counting the few pass out sessions on Fletch’s flea ridden couch, it had probably been close to that.
The cards were starting to look like a red and black blur.
Lack of sleep and lots of party treats in the form of alcohol, weed and blow were making my head feel as if it was filled with helium.
But the pile of money in front of me was enough to keep me semi-alert.
Or at least alert enough to win round after round of poker.
Two nights ago, I’d walked out of Lazy Daze determined to wallow in a pool of pity.
Fletch had called to let me know that the poker game was back on.
I headed straight to the game, figuring my luck couldn’t get any worse.
And it didn’t. I’d managed to win a cool pile of dough and pushed the idea of Amy dating Rincon out of my head.
I knew the relief was temporary, but the booze and coke had cooled the rage.
The adrenaline rush I’d gotten from seeing Rincon walk out with Amy had, apparently, given me an edge in poker.
I had no idea why, but I was playing like a fucking poker gladiator.
Fletch had folded hours ago, and Sully had stomped off in his usual spoiled princess fit after losing his ass.
This would be my last round. I hadn’t been home in three days, and my phone had died long ago.
The last two players stared at me over the tops of their cards.
Their eyes were bloodshot and angry. I’d only just met them when we all sat down to play two nights ago.
They’d lost plenty, and they were now eyeing me with a lot of hatred and plenty of suspicion.
The one guy, Mack, was butt ugly with tiny scars all over his face as if he’d either gone through a major bout of chicken pox as a kid or had someone spray his face with a pellet gun.
His friend, Deke, had a black beard that he pulled and twisted every time he had a good hand.
Didn’t matter how good his poker face was, that beard gave away his hand every fucking time.
My poker fairy godmother hadn’t left my shoulder yet.
I had an Ace high flush, so my money pile wasn’t going anywhere.
The guy with the pitted face folded with a pair of twos.
His friend grinned. He’d been twirling his beard into a black icicle, so I figured he was holding something decent.
He laid down three of a kind. I fanned out my flush and reached forward to sweep the pot toward me.
“Fucking cheater,” Deke snarled.
“Didn’t cheat. Just played a lot better than you two clowns.”
The lack of sleep, loss of money and final comment was all they needed.
Deke scrambled like a rabid dog over the table.
Empty beer bottles clattered together like bowling pins as he tipped the table over.
I backed my chair out of the way, and Deke fell face first onto the floor.
The cards and my money cascaded down behind him.
Mack took the easier route. He circled around the upturned table.
He lunged for me, but I threw my fist into his face, surprising the hell out of myself with how sharp my reflexes still were. He flew back with a bloody nose.
Fletch came out of the bedroom rubbing his fat belly and squinting into the light. “Christ, Stone, what have you done now?”
“Wasn’t me. Got some sore losers here.”
Fletch’s eyes rounded. “Watch it!”
I turned around as Deke hit me with a beer bottle. I ducked but caught it on my cheekbone.
I reached up. Warm blood seeped from the gash it’d left behind.
“You fuckface, I won that money fairly and now I’m done.
” His face blanched white as I reached for him.
I grabbed the front of his shirt and pounded my fist into his face.
The guy was limp in my grasp when Fletch finally stopped me from delivering another blow.
“Stone, stop. You’re going to kill him.” It took me a few seconds to comprehend his words. The haze in my head was growing thicker by the second. I dropped my hold on Deke, and he crumpled to the ground.
The knuckles on my right hand were swollen and covered with blood.
His and mine. I stumbled over to the kitchen sink and splashed my face over and over again with cold water.
Mack recovered first. He grabbed his half conscious friend off the floor and pulled his arm over his shoulder. He snarled something angrily at Fletch.
Fletch held up his hands. “Hey, don’t blame me. You two were stupid enough to call him a cheater and then fly over the table at him. Way I see it, you’re lucky to be walking out of here.” They stumbled out the door, and Fletch locked it behind them.
He looked at me. “You can’t seriously be thinking of riding home tonight.”
I walked out of the kitchen. The light in the room pulsed overhead making my head hurt.
I leaned down and swept up my money. My right hand was nearly numb from pounding the guy.
“Yep. I’m just going to step into your shower for a few minutes to wake myself up and then I’m out of here.
My brothers are probably wondering what the hell happened to me.
” I righted the table and helped him pick up the beer bottles.
I shoved the wad of money into my pocket. “Thanks for inviting me to the game.”
“Anytime, buddy. Hey, there are some bandages in the medicine cabinet. You might want to try and close that cut up. Looks deep.”
I walked into the bathroom and undressed.
Blood was still oozing from the gash on my cheek.
It was going to leave a scar for sure. I had to turn at an angle to fit in the small shower stall, but once I’d found the right position, the water felt fucking nice as it poured down over me.
I’d taken my mind off everything for a few days, and it had helped.
But now I was heading back home, and home meant I’d see Amy and that meant feeling like someone had stomped on my chest all over again.