Chapter 8
Ace
With sweaty palms, I grip the handle of Dottie’s door and enter one of the few places I feel comfortable.
“Hey!” I greet Gigi as I slide into my seat.
“Hey, you. What’s going on?” She scans me up and down before her eyes land on my face. “You look spooked.”
My brows furrow. “Really? Is it that obvious? Apparently, my poker face is shit.”
On a laugh, a laid-back Gigi argues, “Naw. I just know you too well. What happened?”
My teeth dig into my lower lip for a few seconds before ignoring Rule #6 and telling her the truth. “I saw him.”
“Him?”
“Burlone. The guy who used to beat my mom and me. The one who introduced her to drugs in the first place. Hell, when I look back, I’m pretty sure he was my mom’s pimp or something.
” Gigi’s jaw drops as I reveal something so personal.
It’s not like me, but right now I need someone else’s perspective or else I’m going to go crazy.
Swallowing my doubt, I continue, “He owns a casino and is one of the big players at the tournament I’m wanting to enter. Actually,…he’s the only big player. Burlone has never lost a tournament before. Sure, he’s lost a few hands here and there, but he always comes out on top. Always.”
“Then how the hell are you going to beat him?”
My lips tilt up on one side. “Because I learned from the best.”
A very confused Gigi leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “But I thought you just said….”
“Yup. And I know every single one of his tells.”
“How the hell did that happen?”
Reaching for Gigi’s cup of coffee, I take a quick swig in hopes of it washing away the bitter memories of Burlone and my childhood.
Unfortunately, it only adds to them. “After he’d finish with my mom, she’d stay cooped up in her room, and he’d light a cigar.
He’d sit at our old kitchen table and shuffle a deck of cards.
Over and over again, I’d watch through the crack of my bedroom door, waiting for him to leave while praying he wouldn’t see me.
But he’d stay for hours, shuffling those damn cards, and I’d watch because I was too terrified to do anything else. ”
Gigi’s face is blank, but I can tell she’s absorbing every word. “Why would he stay?”
“I don’t know, but I think it’s because he liked proving he owned my mom. It was just another way to show her she was helpless. That she couldn’t control what he did. Even in her own home.”
With a nod, G silently urges me to continue, so I do.
“And then, one day, he invited another guy over. Pretty sure this was the first time my mom was pimped out but….” I shrug like it isn’t a big deal when in reality, it’s one of my most scarring memories as a kid.
“After he finished with my mom, they played a hand of poker. Then two, then three. They stayed the night, and I watched from my crack in the door. I couldn’t see the cards, only his face.
Every muscle twitch. Every pursed lip. Every brush of the cards. Everything.”
“But if you couldn’t see the cards….”
I laugh dryly before offering, “I didn’t need to see the cards. Not in the beginning. I needed to learn how to read people. And I did. But you’re right. At one point, I needed to learn the basic rules other than figuring out people’s tells. Which is when I met Joe.”
“Who was Joe?” Gigi probes.
“He was a regular of my mom’s. For years, I thought he was her boyfriend. But looking back, I think he just had a soft spot for her and me.” My eyes glaze over slightly, taking me back to those times in my trailer.
Shaking my head, I keep explaining, “Anyway…on the nights Burlone didn’t come over, Joe did.
He didn’t hit my mom or me. He was actually a pretty good guy.
I’d seen him play cards with Burlone, so I began to get braver.
It started with me getting a glass of water while Joe was leaving the trailer, then changed to me shuffling a worn deck of cards when he’d step out of my mom’s room.
He’d smile kindly, tip his head in my direction, then leave.
That was it. And then…one day, I got the courage to ask him if he played.
I knew he played because I’d seen him with Burlone, but he didn’t know that.
His eyes softened when I caught his attention, and he pulled out a chair.
From there, he taught me everything he knew.
And between all of it, I figured out how to play.
How to keep my emotions in check. And how to read my opponents better than your average Joe. ” I laugh. “No pun intended.”
With my story finished, I lean my back against the cushion. Normally, I’d be annoyed that Dottie hasn’t come over to take my order, but tonight, I’m not exactly hungry.
“So what makes you so sure you can beat Burlone?”
“I’m not.” I shrug. “But it’s the only way I can think of to hurt him the way he hurt me.”
“What do you mean? I mean…” she rushes. “I know he hurt you, but why do you have this long vendetta?”
Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths before opening them and addressing Gigi’s question. “The day my mom disappeared, I found Burlone’s old deck of cards on the table. They’re the ones I carry in my backpack.”
“The gold ones?”
“Yeah. I know he took her. I know he probably killed her. And I know that he has no remorse for tearing my family apart. My mom and I might not have been on great terms, but she did the best she could even if that meant spreading her legs for any guy that contacted Burlone for a ride. And then, Burlone made her vanish into thin air, leaving me a sad, pathetic little twelve-year-old to fend for herself in the foster care system.”
Raising my arms, I give her a set of sarcastic jazz hands. “Ta-da.”
A dry laugh escapes her before she sobers slightly. “You’re pretty screwed up, Ace.”
I chuckle. “Thanks for your assessment.”
With a grin, she adds, “I’m pretty screwed up, too.”
“Two peas in a pod?” I tease her.
“Yeah, Ace. Two peas in a pod.”