The Poker King Returns novel · Chapter 9 of 24

Chapter 9: After Close

On Wednesday the Wren had three dealers, one pit boss, one floor manager and one waiter who used to be a king.

We opened the doors at noon anyway.

Nobody had called to cancel.

Strangers came instead, drawn by a video that had reached four million people overnight.

Bea dealt blackjack until her hands cramped, and I ran the cage, the bar, the floor and the tables.

Cade carried drinks.

He had put the black vest back on and refused to take it off.

"The regulars know me in it," he said.

"The regulars know you're the Poker King."

"They know a man who brings them gin. I like that man."

At midnight we locked the front doors on the last of the crowd.

The Wren was a wreck of empty glasses and ashtrays and spilled chips.

Bea took one look at the two of us and said, "I'm going home. Don't touch the roulette wheel. It's lucky."

She left with her coat over her arm and a smile she thought we couldn't see.

The door closed.

The big room was quiet and dim, lit only by the ring of lamps over the blackjack pit.

I picked up a tray and started collecting glasses.

Cade took it out of my hands.

"Leave them."

"Someone has to."

"Not tonight."

He set the tray on the nearest table.

The bandage over my ear itched, and I had not eaten since breakfast, and my whole body ached from standing.

I was also so aware of him that my skin hummed.

"You were going to kill that man," I said.

"I was going to hurt him."

"You scared me."

"I scared myself."

He took my hand, turned it over and kissed the inside of my wrist.

"He touched you," he said, "and for three seconds I forgot what I am."

"What are you?"

"I haven't decided."

"Let me help."

I stepped forward and pushed him by the chest, three steps, until the backs of his thighs hit the blackjack table.

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