Chapter 55 Ace
Ace
“Good game, guys! Thanks for helping out tonight!” I tell Lou, Diece, and Stefan as they tuck in their chairs around the dining room table.
We’ve just finished a couple rounds of poker in hopes of it helping Kingston get a better feel for the importance of table position and how to implement the strategy.
He’s been kind of lackadaisical about the whole thing, and I can’t decide if it’s because he’s discouraged, or if he’s just counting on his new plan to work out and doesn’t need to put as much effort into learning the game. Regardless, I think tonight helped.
As I gather the cards, I catch D stretching his arms over his head then tapping his knuckles against the table. It’s one of his familiar quirks, and the action makes me smile.
“Thanks for having us, Ace. That was interesting as hell. We’re going to call it a night, though. You’re getting better, King. Ace is a good little teacher.” He winks at me then leaves the room. Lou and Stefan follow after, murmuring their goodbyes.
Kingston, however, is still at the table, staring at the chips as if they hold the key to solving world hunger.
“Hey.” Trying to grab his attention, I throw a card at him, and it does its job, bringing him back to me.
He blinks. “Hey, sorry.”
“How do you think it went?” I ask.
“It wasn’t bad, but they also can’t compete with Burlone so…”
“So you don’t think that you can compete with Burlone, even though you cleaned up during tonight’s game?” I finish for him.
With a shake of his head, a vulnerable Kingston admits, “I don’t know what to think anymore. And this might be a moot point, anyway. If my other plan works out then…”
“Will you tell me your other plan?”
“Babe—”
“I know, I know. You and your stupid rules.” A breath of laughter escapes me as I remember Gigi saying the same thing to me.
Setting aside my frustration, I add, “Want to know something interesting, King? I had my rules, too, yet they don’t even really enter my mind anymore.
Not since I found you and moved in here.
I trust you, King. With everything. And I think one of these days, you’ll realize you can trust me too and that you can tell me anything.
Including what your plan is and how I can help. ”
He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.
“But…since you’re not ready, and I don’t want to push you, let’s focus on poker, shall we?
You’ve already gotten the basics down, and you’ve learned some strategy techniques that can be really valuable––as you saw with tonight’s outcome.
You cleaned up, and you need to give yourself a little credit.
But I think it’s time we start talking about Burlone, in particular. What do you think?”
“Yeah.” He sits up a little straighter with a fire in his eyes that’s pretty freaking attractive. The determination is sexy as hell. “I think that’s a good idea.”
“Okay.” I set the cards down and reach for his hands, linking our fingers together and squeezing softly.
“First, you’re already at an advantage because you’re a master at reading people.
You’ve always been able to tell if I’m lying or telling the truth, and I know you’ve done the same thing with the men you interrogate. ”
Kingston opens his mouth to refute my comment, but I press on before he has a chance to argue. “I’ve heard a bit about your specific set of skills, and I think you should tap into them.”
His eyes cloud for a split second before sharpening. “How the hell do you know about that?”
I brush his question aside. He doesn’t need to know about my heart-to-heart with D.
“Do you think I’m blind?” I joke. “I might not have had front row seats to your…extra-curricular activities, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed the blood-stained shirts on occasion or the bruised knuckles.
And don’t even get me started on the knife you keep strapped to your ankle.
I’m not an idiot, and I’m not a na?ve little girl who doesn’t know who she’s sleeping with.
To win the tournament, all you need to do is know the rules, know the strategies, and know your opponents.
And you have all of that mastered. The only difference between poker and your interrogation techniques is that with poker, your cards are your weapons instead of a knife. ”
A heavy silence hangs over us as Kingston stares at me, appearing to be made from stone. Brushing aside my entire comment, he repeats, “You didn’t answer my question, Ace. How do you know about my specific set of skills?” His voice is like ice.
“I did tell you—”
“I want the whole truth. Not half of it,” he bites out. The man in front of me transforms into a stranger in the blink of an eye. The usual warmth that I feel around him is replaced with a frigid glare that seeps into my bones and makes me desperate for a scalding shower.
I cringe. Sometimes I hate how well he can read me. Praying he won’t cut off any of Diece’s fingers, I admit, “D.”
“And you still want me?” he pushes, though his tone is indifferent. “Knowing all the blood that’s on my hands?”
I don’t bother to tell him I don’t know any real specifics. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Nothing can change how I feel about him. How I see him as a protector and not an adversary. Standing, I lean across the table then kiss the back of his hands in hopes of comforting him and putting him at ease.
He doesn’t move an inch, but he does watch me with his dark, scrutinizing eyes. I can feel him pushing me away. I can feel his walls sliding into place. I can feel the distance between us, even though we’re inches away from each other. I can feel it all.
With a deep breath, I hold his stare. “I don’t care what you’ve done.
I don’t care who you are when you’re the Dark King.
I care about you. The real you. I care about who you are when you’re around me.
I care about how you treat me. You make me feel precious.
Cherished, even.” I smile. “D says you’re different when you’re around me.
He thinks you’re softer and sometimes more hesitant like you’re afraid to show your true self.
Like you’re afraid I won’t understand the real you.
” Licking my lips, I sit back down and tell him the truth.
“I love that you’re trying to protect me, but if you want to win this tournament, then you need to stop holding back.
You need to be you. You need to be ruthless. You need to be the Dark King.”
“And what if you don’t like the man you meet when I let him loose?”
“Not possible.” I shake my head, trying to imagine a world where I don’t love him. Where I don’t understand he was made for me.
His hands squeeze mine, but he doesn’t say anything, so I decide to leave that battle for another day. “Now, I’m going to tell you all I know about Burlone and his little ticks, and you’re going to take notes. You ready?”
He grabs onto the subject change without a backward glance. “Ready.”
I smile. “First. If Burlone is anxious, he makes a point to not touch his chips unless absolutely necessary. If he’s pretty laid back then he’ll fidget with them on occasion.
That doesn’t really tell you what’s in his hand, but how he feels about his hand, which is just as important.
Also, if he doesn’t take a second look at his cards, he’s confident he’s going to win, and you should fold.
But, if he looks at them every time the dealer lays a community card, then he still has something but isn’t quite as confident.
This is when he’s most dangerous because he isn’t sure of the outcome, either.
It makes the hand a wild card, and you don’t want him to suck out. Do you remember what that means?”
Nodding, he explains, “Being sucked out means you were losing at the beginning of the hand, but by the time the last community card is shown, it gives you the edge to win the pot. For example, let’s say I go all-in with two kings, and I’m called by an opponent who’s holding two aces.
Then the dealer lays a king among the community cards, thus enabling me to suck out and win the hand despite having been behind when the chips went in. ”
I clap my hands dramatically, my face showing my pride. “Not too bad, King. I’m impressed.”
“I learned from the best,” he jokes. “Does he have a tell for when he’s bluffing?”
“He’ll look you straight in the eye when he bets. He’ll ooze arrogance as if you’d be an idiot to question him, to take him on. That’s when you know he’s full of shit.”
“Good to know. And what are my tells?” he probes.
With a sly grin, I admit, “I don’t think I’m ready to reveal them quite yet.”
“And why’s that?” he laughs.
“Because I might want to get something out of you one of these days, and if I tell you your little idiosyncrasies, then you’ll try to cover them up. It’ll throw off my entire strategy, Kingston, and where’s the fun in that?”
Kingston opens his mouth and tugs his hands away from me with feigned outrage.
“Is that a challenge, Ace?”
With that same sly grin firmly in place, I reply, “Only if you’re not too scared to take me up on it. How else will we know if you’re ready or not?”
“Game on, Ms. Mezzerich. I have one condition, though.” His gaze heats with lust, making me squirm in my seat. To hide my reaction, I stand up and raise my hands over my head to stretch then yawn for good measure.
“And what’s that?”
“We play strip poker.”
Giggling, I shake my head then start walking down the hall before tossing over my shoulder, “How did I know you were going to say that?”
“Is that a yes?” he yells back.
“Maybe. Now, come to bed. You got me all hot and needy with all that poker talk.”
His laughter echoes back, and I’d be willing to bet all my chips that he’ll be joining me in a minute or two. The bastard might like to make me beg, but I’m glad I was able to put a smile on his face.
Even if it’s just for a little while.