Shayna tugged her uniform tight to remove any wrinkles and checked her look in the mirror, twisting one way then the other to make sure everything was covered. With a satisfied nod she strode out of the lounge attached to the changing area and showers, and headed for the ballroom where the poker tournament was being held. The tournament had started at ten, six hours before. It was probably a madhouse in the beginning as everyone got settled and she wasn’t sorry she missed that. The tournament was going to be held in three rooms to begin with, two rooms with a hundred tables, plus a smaller room with fifty. As players were eliminated the number of tables would decrease until there was only one table left with the final eight players.
She shook her head in amazement as she entered the smallest of the three rooms. She couldn’t believe two thousand men and women were betting fifty-thousand dollars that they were the best poker player in the casino. The men, and women, must have balls of brass the size of bowling balls. If they won they would take home fifty million, but if they lost they would leave with nothing. Once you entered the game, you played until you were busted.
There were only sixteen tables left already and she quickly noticed Beast was among those still playing. He had a sizeable mound of chips in front of him, far larger than the other five players at his table. He appeared relaxed and in control and she wondered if he’d fed her a line about being an amateur. She walked over to relieve Tonya.
“How’s it going?” Shayna asked quietly.
“Easy money,” Tonya replied with a smile. “The organizers told me to stand out of the way. If the players needed anything, they would signal, but otherwise to leave them alone.”
Shayna grinned at the beautiful woman with skin the color of well-creamed coffee. “I thought Ted was crazy to assign us twenty-five tables each, but I guess he was right.”
“Yeah. Listen, now that you’re here, I’m going on break then I’m supposed to move into one of the larger rooms. You got this?”
Shayna giggled. “I can stand by the bar as easily as you can.”
Tonya grinned back. “Like I said: easy money.”
***
The single bell announcing a break sounded. The players had five minutes to finish their hand before two bells sounded to end play for fifteen-minutes. The players didn’t react to the sound, but, as she watched, one table after another began to close down, the dealer picking up the cards but not dealing another hand.
“How’s it going?” Shayna asked as she sauntered up to Michelle, one of the dealers at an empty table.
“Great! These guys know what they’re doing, so each play goes really fast. They tip good, too,” she grinned, pointing at a small stack of chips by the shoe. Shayna did some quick math and realized there was almost a grand on the table.
“Damn! Maybe I should have been dealer instead of a hostess.”
“Well, this is from all today, but yeah, I could get used to the twenty-five dollar tips.”
“Oops! Got to go,” Shayna said as another table broke up and one of the men waved her over.
***
After the break the organizers consolidated tables again, bringing the remaining thirteen tables back to full strength. The tables were clustered around the food and liquor so she had a good view. Beast was sitting at one of the nearer tables and it appeared he was kicking ass and taking names. His pile of chips was considerably smaller than before the break, but she knew that was because the organizers were banking the player’s winnings and exchanging lower value chips for higher. Where other players were throwing in five, six, sometimes ten chips, Beast would toss in one. What she thought was interesting was how little play there was. On each round only two or three players would stay in the game, the others folding early.
Beast was playing his game, tight and aggressive, and it was working for him. He’d fold early if he didn’t see anything developing in his hand, playing it tight, but when he had something he bet aggressively. He was winning about eight hands out of ten when he played. Of course, he knew he was sitting at the kiddie tables, where the weak and unknown players fought amongst themselves to allow the cream to rise to the top, while the major players duked it out in one of the two large rooms. That was fine with him. He’d take these fish for all he could to pad his bankroll before he started mixing it up with the big boys.
Like now. He had a Full House, Sixes over Eights, and he was pretty sure he held the winning hand, but Nelson was desperate, down to his last few chips, betting it all on what he had in his hand. Beast picked at the corner of his hole card with a fingernail. It was a tell that he allowed to show when he was trying to sucker someone, and Nelson took the bait.
“Raise, another five-thousand,” Nelson said throwing in ten chips.
Beast studied his cards again. It would cost him another five grand to call. He had a pair of Sixes in the hole. Taking the pair of Eights and the other Six from the Flop, he had his Full House, but Nelson seemed confident. If Nelson had a Nine and a Seven, he could be betting on a Straight.
“Call, and raise ten-thousand,” Beast said, putting an end to the hand by forcing Nelson to go all in.
“Call,” Nelson said as his chips clattered into the pile.
The two men turned their cards for the table to see. “Full House, Sixes over Eights, and a Flush, Nine high. Full House wins,” the dealer said to the table as Beast and Nelson stood, Nelson extending his hand across the table.
“I hope you go all the way, you asshole,” Nelson said with a grin as they shook. “I won’t feel so bad losing my ass to you then.”
Beast chuckled in return. “From your lips to God’s ears.” He sat back down and as the dealer collected the cards he began to quickly sort the chips from the pile into neat stacks of twenty.
***
“Can I get you anything?” Shayna asked as the room began to clear after the bell.
Beast continued to count chips into a bag under the supervision of one of the organizers, then signed a slip. He slid the rest of his chips into another bag that he slung around his wrist before he rose and faced Shayna.
“Water with a lemon twist, thanks.”
Shayna nodded and moved off to fetch his drink. She didn’t even understand why they had a bar. A cooler full of water and pops was all they needed because nobody was drinking. Not that she blamed them. If she had fifty grand on the line, she’d want to be stone cold sober, too. Beast was there when she turned, so she handed him his drink. “Looks like you’re doing okay.”
“Not bad. But these are the fish. I haven’t come up against a good player yet.”
“So were you straight with me last night? You’re an amateur?”
He crisscrossed his chest with a finger then held his hand up as if taking an oath. “Swear to God.”
“So if you’re not a professional poker player, what do you do?”
“I run a security firm. DR Security.”
“Really? That sounds interesting. Guard any big stars?”
“No, not really. They typically have their own security. We may help them out with logistics, but we tend to specialize in people who fly into Vegas from out of the country. We…provide additional services in addition to security.”
“Like what?” They were alone in the room with the exception of couple of dealers and the casino security man at the door, so they had time to talk. It was her job to be nice to the guests, but it didn’t hurt if the guest gave her the low level hots.
“It’s Vegas, baby,” he said with a grin. “We set up shows, high-stakes games, escorts, that sort of thing.”
She grunted as her suspicion was confirmed. DR Security my ass. He’s nothing but a pimp. “What does DR stand for?”
“Desert Reapers.”
She frowned as the name tickled her memory. “Desert Reapers. Where have I heard that name before?”
Beast smiled. Here it comes. “Desert Reapers is the name of my club. We…”
She snapped her fingers. “It’s a motorcycle club, right? I remember hearing stories. You ran drugs or something, right, but then went legit?”
He looked at her impressed. “Guns, not drugs. My father started taking the club out of the gun trade about fifteen years ago. We’re a respected member of the business community now. I’m surprised you knew that.”
Shayna smiled. “Yeah. My best friend did her high school English paper on organized crime in Vegas. The Reapers were, uh…”
“Bastards?” he suggested.
“Well, I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would,” he said firmly. “My grandfather founded the Reapers in the late fifties and he was a total dick. When he turned the reins over to my dad, and Dad started easing the club out of the gun business, they had some god-awful fights. Granddad couldn’t let it go, but the club is making more money now than ever, and we don’t have the law breathing down our necks all the time.”
“So your club runs a security firm for real?”
“Yeah. And Dirty Reaper Tattoos. We’re franchising that.”
Shaya nodded. She’d seen several of those around town. “Huh. I would have never pegged you for a biker.”
“Why’s that?”
She fretted a moment, trying to figure out how to get out of this without being insulting. She’d always imagined bikers as fat, greasy haired, slobs. He looked more like ex-military if anything. “I don’t know. You just don’t look the type.”
“What type is that? Come on, I want to know.”
“Long hair and beard, for one thing.”
Beast grinned. “We have our share of members who look like that. But those of us who work with the clients on security, we have to look the part.”
“What part is that?”
“Well-groomed and competent, for one thing. We have to blend in. If I were running security in my colors I would stand out like rat shit in a sugar bowl.”
Shayna smiled and nodded in agreement. “That you would. So you run the business or do you actually provide the protection?”
“Both. I would go crazy sitting behind a desk all the time. My VP is good at that, so he does most of the day-to-day operation stuff.”
Shayna found Beast fascinating, standing perfectly at ease with one foot in his club and the world of bikers, the other in the world of dignitary security. “You any good?” she teased.
He grinned at her. “Haven’t lost anyone yet.”
“So why are you here?”
“At the tournament? I’m looking to make a change, plus I want to see what I’m made of. To find out if you’re the best, you have to face the best. The best are here.”
“What change is that?” she asked. He seemed to have it all, why would he want to change anything?
“To be honest, I don’t know. I just feel like I’m missing something, something important, in my life. This is the first step on the road to find out what it is.”
She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “That sounds suspiciously like some kind of pickup line. Are you going to tell me I’m the one you’ve been looking for, the thing that’s missing in your life?”
Beast burst into laughter. “I think I’m looking for something other than a woman, so no. No pickup line.” His smile turned sly. “Would it have worked?”
This time Shayna laughed. “No!”
“I figured. You won’t even give me your name, so I doubt some cheesy line would soften you up that easily. You strike me as a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid of going after it.”
She bobbed her head and smiled, liking his assessment of her. “I think you can say that.”
“See? I’m not such a bad guy. You can trust me.”
“I trust you.”
“Enough to give me your name?” he asked.
She thought about it a moment. “Shayna.”
“Nice to meet you, Shayna,” he said sticking out his hand. When she took it he gripped it firmly, but not too tight, and gave it a quick pump. “Do you have a last name?”
“Yes.”
He chuckled and released her hand. “Okay. I get it. But it’s nice to meet you anyway.” The five-minute bell chimed, causing him take a gulp of water then put his glass down. “Have to go take care of some business before the next round. Be seeing you around.”
Shayna watched Beast as he left the room, liking how he walked. His movements reminded her of a cat’s: smooth, graceful, and with barely contained explosive power.
***
Beast rolled his cards over, showing his Straight, his heart sinking as the other player displayed his cards. “Two Straights, Jack high and Eight high, Jack high wins,” the dealer said as the other player raked in the pile of chips.
Shit, Beast muttered to himself. That hand just cost him two hundred fifty thousand dollars, his biggest loss of the night. I thought I had him! This guy is going to be tough.
Shayna watched as the other man raked in a mountain of chips, his face split into a wide grin. She didn’t know how much money was in the pot, but it could have been as much as a half-million by her guess. She shook her head in wonderment. Beast had just bet most of the chips in front of him, lost, and yet looked as cool and relaxed as if he were sitting by a pool sipping a drink. He motioned one of the organizers over and after a moment of discussion, the man left then returned with another large pile of chips. Beast grinned, nodded in thanks, and returned his attention to the table. After a moment he looked up and waved her over.
“Water with a lemon twist?” she asked.
He grinned. “After that hand, better make it two lemon twists.”
“Anyone else?” she asked as the table chuckled. When everyone declined, she hurried away, returning a moment later with Beast’s drink.
“Water with two lemon twists,” she said as she set the drink in the table’s built-in holder.
“How about a knock for luck?” Beast asked.
“Knock?”
“Right here,” he said tapping the table in front of him.
Shayna looked at the dealer, not sure what to do. The woman met her eyes and, as there were no cards on the table, gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“Okay,” she said before giving the table two quick raps right in front of him with the first two fingers of her right hand.
“If he wins the next hand, you have to come over here and do the same,” another player kidded her.
“It would be my pleasure,” she said with a smile. Anything to break up the just standing around.
***
Shayna hoped Beast would come talk to her again during the break, but he stepped out of the room immediately after the bell. She’d rapped at every position of the table since Beast had asked her, but all the luck appeared to run to Beast. By the time the bell had sounded, the only player left at the table was the man who beaten him earlier, and even his pile of chips was considerably diminished.
This was the last break before the tournament would close for the evening. There were only two tables left, fifteen men left playing. Tomorrow she’d be in one of the big rooms, and she was pretty sure Beast was going to be there, as well.
Beast picked up his phone from the concierge just outside the poker room. After flipping through a series of texts, he came across the one he was looking for, the text from Hightower. The Argentines are here. Call. Beast punched his number.
“Beast,” Hightower’s thick British accent said. “We have a problem.”
“What problem?” Beast asked, not understanding why Hightower was bothering him with this.
“There are four of them.”
“So?”
“So we only reserved three spots on the Sons of Sin thing.”
“And?”
“And, they’re booked solid. I talked to Colt, he said they didn’t have an opening.”
Beast scrubbed his face. It’s always something! Security is the easy part. “Can’t they take one more?”
“No. He said they didn’t have quarters for anyone else.”
“Shit!” Beast hissed. “What do you think about pulling our man out and using his slot?”
“That’s my thought, but if something goes to shit, it will be your ass, not mine. I wanted to run that by you first.”
“Have you talked to Colt?”
“Yes.”
“And?” Beast asked. If there were one thing he’d change about Hightower, it would be to get him to spill all the details without having to be prompted every time. He was like that on everything. Maybe that was the Brit in him.
“He seems like a competent bloke. He has an ex-Marine on staff as his Sergeant at Arms and promised nothing would happen.” Hightower chuckled. “He said that if one of the Argentines was killed while under his care, he’d give us our money back and comp us a visit.”
Beast grinned. He has spoken with Colt McKinnon months ago when the Argentines mentioned they wanted to do the Sons of Sins experience. Colt had struck him as an upstanding guy he could trust. He’d heard about the Death Valley Motorcycle Club, a small club located about halfway between Vegas and Reno, but was surprised to find out they were operating the Sons of Sin Motorcycle Club experience.
The Reapers had done a little investigation and found that Colt had taken over as President then done good things with the club, taking them from some backwater shit-hole club to what they were now.
“Okay, I agree. Do it. Just make sure Colt knows what he’s got. I don’t expect trouble, but still.”
“Already handled,” Hightower said. “I just wanted to put you in the loop. Palmetto is rankled that he isn’t going to get to go, though.”
Beast grinned. Tony Palmetto had been bragging to every person he could get to listen that he was going to enjoy an all-expense paid trip to paradise, courtesy of the Argentine government. “Serves him right for rubbing everyone’s noses in it.”
Hightower laughed. “Agreed.”
“Listen, the bell just chimed. I have to go,” Beast said, trying to get off the phone. “Let me know if you have any other problems.”
“Wilco. How’s it going?”
“Haven’t lost my ass yet,” Beast said before ending the call, tossing the phone to the basket, and hurrying back into the room.
Shayna was watching, wondering if Beast was going to make it back into the room. He did, just. He’d obviously been annoyed by something someone was telling him on the phone, walking in a tight circle as he spoke into the phone. But three steps into the room she saw the aggravation leave him like a fog lifting, and he was once again calm and cool. Fire and ice…
The organizers split Beast and the other strong player, another amateur named Orson, sitting one at each of the two remaining tables. If they were lucky, they would have a couple of dark horses to enliven the televised tournament next week.
Beast sat at his indicated position and counted out the chips from his bag. “Hold a moment, please,” he said, waving his hand over the table palm down, then signaled for Shayna.
“Water with a lemon twist?” she asked.
“Not this time. Just a knock for luck.”
When the dealer nodded, she rapped the table in the same manner she had the last time then stepped back. Beast nodded and after the blinds were tossed in, the dealer began to distribute the cards with practiced speed and efficiency.
She hovered, well back, but between the two tables, watching the play. It was too hard to keep track of all the tables before, but with two, she found she could watch and enjoy the game play, silently cheering with the winners and groaning with the losers.
After the first hour, she’d started watching only Beast’s table, sparing the other table a glance only to make sure they didn’t need anything. Beast was raking in chips with ease. Every break seemed to go his way, winning some hands big, and just squeaking by with a high card on others. He didn’t win every hand he played, but he won far more than he lost, his growing pile of chips attesting to his skill.
His play wasn’t flamboyant, his movements calm and methodical. She watched as he folded often, but when he played, he bet with a fearlessness that amazed her. She saw him push almost a hundred thousand dollars into the pot like he’d have bet ten, picking off the other players one by one.
When there were only four left at his table, she could see desperation on the faces of his opponents. They were trapped, unable to beat him, unable to stop play and walk away with what they had left. Had she been playing, she’d have been trying to go for the kill, but Beast’s play never changed. He still folded just as often as he did when the table was at full strength and his bets were in the range he’d been betting before.
That’s why he wins at poker and I don’t even play, Shayna smiled as Beast took the last of another man’s chips.
When the final bell sounded, announcing the close of the first day of the tournament, Shayna sighed. Standing around was a lot harder than walking, and she had to use the restroom in the worst possible way.
As the remaining players, seven in all, counted their chips into the bank, Beast sauntered up to her. He’d cleared his table with almost thirty minutes to spare and had already counted his chips.
“Plans for the night?” he asked.
“Yes. Going home.”
He nodded. He wanted to press, but changed his mind. He was much more used to snapping his fingers and having women at his beck and call, so Shayna intrigued him. “Need a lift?” When she looked at him, he raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just asking. I didn’t know if you have a car, took a cab, or what.”
“I have my car. And what would have happened if I said yes?”
“I would have given you a ride home.”
“And once we got there?”
“That would have been up to you.”
“If I told you to go home?”
“Then I would have gone home. I told you: you can trust me.”
“Uh-huh.”
Beast grinned and held up three fingers to his forehead in salute. “Scout’s honor.”
Shayna grinned. “Were you ever a boy scout?”
“Well, no,” he admitted, “but you can still trust me.”
“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind, boy scout.”
***
Beast was prowling the Casino, looking for someone interesting. It was nearly eleven and he noticed a very attractive woman in dark blue slacks, a light blue shirt and sneakers striding toward him with purpose, watching until he recognized Shayna.
He fell into step beside her, gently taking her arm as they continued to walk toward the entrance. “I thought you were going home.”
“I was. My damn car won’t start.”
He had to work hard to keep the smile off his face. He could tell she wasn’t kidding and was in no mood. “I’m sorry to hear that. Want me to take a look at it?”
“No. Thank you, but I just want to go home.”
“Come on,” he said, pulling at her arm to turn her away from the door. “I’ll take you home.”
She resisted his tug. “Thanks, but my dad is on his way already.”
“Your family lives here?”
“Out by Nellis. Dad’s in the Air Force.”
“No need for him to drive here. I’ll take you home,” he said, pulling her to a stop just before the doors.
She couldn’t say what she was thinking because he was a guest, so she smiled. “Thank you, but no. Please let go of my arm.” He let her go, holding up his hands in surrender. “Thank you,” she said, releasing the breath she’d taken to call for security had he continued to hold her.
He took a step back. “Say hello to your dad,” he said before turning and walking away. There were too many fish in the sea to beat his head against the wall for one, even if she was as stunning as a mermaid.
Shayna watched him stride away without a backward glance, frowned, and stepped outside. She was annoyed that Beast had manhandled her a bit, but she wasn’t entirely sure why. Then it hit her. What annoyed her wasn’t that he took her arm, but his presumption that she’d simply agree to allow him to take her home. If he’d asked, that would have been one thing, but to simply assume she was going to let him do it? That was too bold and self-assured by a good measure.
She smiled and waved as she noticed her father creeping up in his Silverado. Beast may be as sexy as hell, but she wasn’t going to fall all over him just because he snapped his fingers.
“Thanks, Daddy,” she said as she crawled into his truck and buckled herself in. “I’m sorry to have to call you so late.”
“No problem, Punkin,” he smiled as he eased through the portico. “It’s probably just a dead battery. No place to get one this late, so we’ll fix it in the morning.”
Shayna yawned mightily as he turned onto the strip toward home. “Not too early, okay?”
He chuckled. He loved his daughter to death, but she’d never been much of a morning person. “Don’t worry. I’ll come home at lunch and we’ll take care of it then. How’s that sound?”
She knew what he was thinking and grinned as she looked out the window at the passing lights. Even though it wasn’t quite eleven, she’d woken him up when she’d called for help. It was the same dynamic they’d been dealing with for dozens of years, the early bird and the night owl. “Perfect.”
***
Beast idled to a stop at bar and glanced at what was on tap. “Lowenbrau,” he said as he sat down. The keep nodded and began to fill a mug as Beast turned his back and glanced around the room. One beer and he was out of here for the night. He thought of Shayna and grinned. She was a feisty one, all right, and he liked that about her. He hadn’t missed the intake of breath that indicated she was about to get loud, and the last thing he wanted was to cause trouble and get kicked out of the tournament.
“Two bucks,” the keep said as he sat the mug on the bar.
Beast turned, peeled off a fiver, and dropped it on the bar. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks!” the man said as the money disappeared and he moved off to tend to another customer.
Beast picked up his beer and gave it a sip, still smiling to himself. His primary goal was to win the tournament, but secondary to that, he was going to find out more about Shayna, and then he was going to take her to a room and fuck her blind. He’d give her a reason to get loud other than him holding her elbow.
He noticed movement to his left and glanced at the woman sitting down. “Glass of red tonight please, Chuck,” she said as the bartender arrived to take her order. She was falling out of her clingy blue dress in all the best ways.
“I’ve got it,” he said as the woman reached for her tiny but stylish clutch to pay for the order as the bartender sat it down.
“Thanks!”
“My pleasure,” he said as he pulled out another five and tossed it on the bar.
“You in town on business?” she asked as her eyes traveled over his face and body.
“You might say that. You?”
“No, I live here. I work in the La Fashion boutique here in the casino. I’m just having a glass of wine to unwind before I go home. What business are you in?”
He smiled. “I’m in the poker tournament.”
“Really?” she cooed as a small smile played at her lips.
His smiled widened. Gotcha…