I check the time on my phone, 6:56, close enough. I inhale deeply before making my way to the cashing office, to the man sat behind the desk, I recognise him from the other night when I was last here. I stand in line behind a couple of people in front of me and wait my turn.
“Can I help you?” he asks when I near the desk.
I pull out the chip and place it on the desk in front of him. “I’d like to cash this in.”
He eyes me knowingly before taking the chip and spinning in his chair, only to turn and face me a second later, sliding a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill towards me. “Here.” He nods politely before motioning with his hand to someone behind me.
I glance over my shoulder to a huge, bald burly bouncer striding towards me, I whirl my head back around to the man at the desk. “What’s going on, is there a problem?” I ask, my heart in my throat.
I’m met with no answer. Just as the bouncer comes to a stop beside me, the man at the desk hands him the gold poker chip and he takes it before turning his attention to me.
“Would you come with me miss?” His deep, gruff voice sending chills through my body, my stomach twisting in knots of fear and dread.
He begins to steer me away towards the grand staircase carpeted in red in the center of the room, leading to the first floor. There are two men, dressed in black suits standing either side of the staircase, guarding the long red rope barriers that stretch across the wide expanse of the steps. We head up the stairs where I am met with a sea of poker tables, we wind our way through, the bouncer only a few steps ahead of me, leading the way towards a set of private tables at the back of the room, hidden behind red velvet curtains that separate each one, some are pulled back, some are drawn, indicating what I guess means that are occupied.
We reach one of the rooms with the curtain drawn, and pull it back, the room is made up with a poker table that commands the entire room that is decorated in red, a large glass chandelier hanging above the table. A few men surround it, including Kyle, who is sat directly opposite the curtain, facing me.
His gaze locks with mine and my stomach flutters. We stare in complete silence, a slight smirk touching his lips. He glances to my right where the bouncer stands.
“What is this?” I ask, my eyes flicking between Kyle and the bouncer.
“Hayley?” I hear from behind me.
I whirl around to find my dad sat in the seat opposite Kyle. “Dad? What are you doing here?”
The bouncer clears his throat next to me. “Excuse me Mr King, you told us to inform you when a young woman handed over this,” he holds up the chip, “and to bring her directly to you.” He steps forward and places the chip on the table in front of Kyle.
“Thank you, Chris, you may go,” he replies.
The bouncer nods and retreats, pulling the curtain closed behind him.
“What is this?” I repeat, my eyes trained on Kyle.
“I knew you’d cash in the chip, I knew you’d come.” He reclines in his chair confidently, taking a swig of his drink, his gaze never wavering from me.
“Hayley, what are you doing here?” my dad asks, tearing me out from under Kyle’s spell.
“Never mind me, why are you here?” I ask, just as realisation sets in. “The money we won, you couldn’t resist, could you? You promised you wouldn’t. Dad, you gave me your word.”
I shake my head in disbelief, trying to suppress the tears that threaten to escape. “That is our money you are gambling away. Ours. You had no right. We needed that money, it was enough for us, but no... you had to have more.”
“I had every right, Hayley. I am your father and I do not have to answer to you. What I do, and why I do it, is my business,” he snaps.
“Not when we could lose everything. Not when we’re so close to being able to pay off mom’s medical bills. Not after we’ve saved for years, and for what, for you to just throw it away and take us back to square one?”
“Hayley,” my father warns.
We stare at each other for a moment.
Kyle clears his throat and sighs heavily. “Well Mr Roberts, shall we get on with the game?” he asks. The way he says it makes it sound as though he is bored.
Arrogant ass.
“Yes, of course. My apologies for my daughter, Mr King,” my father replies.
I grit my teeth, wanting to say something, but instead, I hold my tongue, figuring it best to keep my mouth shut. For now.
The poker game goes on for what seems like hours. Having not a clue what is going on, I retire to the chair in the corner of the room, shrugging off my jacket as it’s getting hotter and hotter in here with every passing minute.
Every now and again, men leave the table and walk away until the only people sat at the table are my dad, Kyle, and the dealer. Piles of poker chips stand on the table next to my dad, an even bigger pile sit next to Kyle.
My dad sits forward, leaning on the table, his rapt attention focused on his cards whereas Kyle sits relaxed, leaning back in his chair boldly. He looks between his cards and my father, takes a deep breath, sits up and pushes every pile of chips into the center of the table. “All in. Five hundred thousand.”
My dad looks over his chips, his shoulders slump slightly, knowing he doesn’t have enough to make the bet.
Kyle must
