26. Tink #3
That shuts Pan up. He leans back, arms folded, a sulky expression on his face.
“It’s not why I was asking,” he mutters, glancing at his hand and sulking even more.
So much for poker face, I think. “I fold,” he says.
He gets up, smiling, but in a way I can tell is hollow, almost fake, and ambles across the room, sticking his neck in the kitchen first, muttering something I can’t hear to one of the girls, and then making his way over to the desk, to me.
“Yo,” he says, opening his hand again. “Hit me. Rake me up some more chips.”
I don’t move. “You got more cash?”
Pan gives me a look. “Oh, don’t be like that,” he says, grinning. “Just borrow from the house. It’ll all come out in the wash.”
“I don’t think so,” I say. “You should probably just cool it.” I lower my voice a fraction. “On a number of fronts.”
Pan scowls. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” I say, “that’s how you’re going to ask people about this?”
His expression tightens. “Sure, why not? People answered.”
“Yeah, and now they’re suspicious as hell,” I breathe out, looking at the game, half-listening for a normal rhythm of mumbled conversation to pick back up. “If people figure something out and connect us, then we’re worse than where we started.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Pan says. “I’m fine. Um, thank you,” he says as Ruby appears with her tray again. He takes the glass off, sips, and then frowns. “The hell is this?”
“Soda water with lime,” she says, tilting her head. “Think you need a little break there, honey.” She grabs his cheek and pinches.
“Hey!” He swipes her away, looks from her to me. “What is this, daycare all of a sudden? I can’t make my own goddamn decisions?”
“No,” I say, glancing up at Ruby and trying to transmit thanks to her for having some common sense here. “Just—”
“Tink?”
The faint voice behind me on the stairs is like ice water down my back. I whip around to see Wendy halfway down in her little Wyld-n-Tru pajamas, holding a can of Coke. Shit, I think. I look at the table; no one’s noticed, I don’t think, but…
“Here.” I push a hundred bucks’ worth of chips at Pan, hoping that’ll tide him over.
“Drink your fucking soda and go play. I’ve got to…
” I jump up, and as if he can sense what I’m doing, Fox, from the lounge, gets up too.
Walks over and leans against the archway that divides the landing to upstairs from the shop proper, blocking me and Wendy from view.
“Thanks,” I mutter hastily as I jog past him.
“No prob,” he says, looking back over his shoulder and frowning at Wendy. “Go upstairs,” he whispers to her.
“I will,” she says to him as I make it to the banister.
“Hey,” I pant. “Wendy, you should… where is Kit?”
“He went to the bathroom,” she says, shrugging. “He said you probably weren’t going to be busy for most of the night, and I just wanted to see if you wanted to come watch a movie or something.”
“Um…” I run a hand through my hair. “I kind of… I’m busy. I gotta stay here. I’m sorry,” I say. “Just um… I’ll be up as soon as I can, okay? But you really should…”
Wendy’s face hardens just a tiny bit. “Okay, fine,” she says. “See you, maybe.”
I am almost taken aback by how angry her reaction is, how teenage-like she’s suddenly jumped from ten-year-old girl to seventeen-year-old rebel in the span of ten seconds, but she’s gone before I have a chance to say anything.
“Tink.” Fox, from his perch at the arch, nods me forward. “You got a customer here or whatever.”
“Coming,” I say. My heart sinks with every quick step back out to the shop.
This is going from bad to worse. Pan’s basically blown our cover.
He’s spending money he doesn’t fucking have out of the pot.
Wendy basically just barged into the middle of a game, and who knows if anyone saw her.
And… and my heart stutters under my binder as I see who’s at the desk.
It’s him again. Gold Tooth. I keep my face stony and neutral as I sit back down. “Yeah,” I say, brusquer than I mean to, but I’m distracted. “What’s—what’s up, man?”
He gives me a sheepish expression, his nostrils flaring. “I’m out,” he says. “I uh, wanted to see if I could get a marker here.” He smiles. “Couple of dumb bets, but I think I can bring it back. You know.”
And then it hits. “Uh, yeah. Let me just…” I stare at my ledger, pretending like I’m scanning for something. There is no way.
If he’s here and he’s broke and he needs a loan, that means…
That means God knows how deep he is in at the official games.
We can’t front to him. It would be the stupidest fucking move.
And not only because the odds of us getting paid back are minimal.
A guy like this might get lucky at cards enough to keep going, but he’ll just as soon blow his cash on coke and girls until security finally scrapes him out of the hotel room.
When I look up, I can feel every eye at the table on me, including Pan’s. I jerk my head backward, heart in my throat, to motion him over. He nods, smacks his palms on the table, and gets up.
“If you don’t mind,” he says to Gold Tooth, “just uh, gonna run this by my associate here.” He smiles, and Fox takes two significant steps forward that the guy correctly reads as a non-optional invitation to move to the side.
Pan leans over the desk, so close his hair flops just a fraction of an inch from my own forehead. When he smiles, I catch the liquor on his breath. “What’s up?” he says. “He good for it or what?”
I lick my lips. “He’s…” I exhale hard. “Don’t ask me how I know,” I say, “but he’s in deep at the casino with Hook. I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason he’s here. He’s got to be dead broke.”
I look up into Pan’s eyes, which are bright with intrigue. “You don’t say,” he murmurs. He glances sideways. “How bad?”
“I don’t know.” I sigh, impatient. “Ten, twenty grand, maybe? Could be more. I just…”
“Woof,” Pan says, a grin on his lips. He taps his teeth together, thinking. “A whale, dragging the ship after it by the harpoon,” he says, and laughs at his own joke. “I like this a lot.”
“What do you—”
He ignores me, straightens up, and snaps his fingers at Gold Tooth. “What do you need, my man?” he says. “Credit’s all yours. Sounds like you’re a perfect candidate.”
Gold Tooth relaxes, smiles, nods in appreciation at his host. “You know how it is. Luck of the draw, but I’ll come back.” He smiles, the gold glinting. “Give me an even five.”
Pan nods. “Done, absolutely. But, on one condition.” He jabs a thumb to his chest. “You pay me back first. I don’t care what you owe, to who else—not interested and not my problem.
You pay me back first. And if anyone gives you grief about it, you tell them to blame me. ” He shrugs. “Easy enough, right?”
Gold Tooth blinks like he can’t believe his good luck. “Yeah, no question,” he says. “Thank you.” He shakes his hand, and Pan leans over the front of the desk to pick up a stack of chips.
My mouth hangs open.
“What did you—” My voice sounds weak, mumbly. I clear my throat, and Pan swings back to me so that his elbows are on the edge of the desk, his chin on his hands. Behind him, I can hear the dealer begin the next round. Light thumps of cards, rattling of chips. “Are you fucking crazy?” I say.
“Crazy smart,” Pan says. “Pot’s nice and fat. There is no way that guy is going to win, and he’s going to end up deep in the hole. To me.” Again, he thumbs at his chest. “And he’ll pay me first. Even better.”
“Not even better,” I say. I have to say it, I can’t not. “You think Hook’s gonna be okay with that? Finds out you are trying to yank that away from under him. Stupid fucking move.”
Pan just smiles and shakes his head. “Be okay with it?” he laughs. “No, of course he’s not going to be okay with it.” He leans in again, actually presses his forehead to mine this time. “That’s the whole point,” he says, his words hot against my skin. “Now he knows he can’t fuck with me.”
And in a heartbeat, he’s gone.