It took about five minutes, but sure enough Chance heard the sound he was looking for.

Gunshots.

They were difficult to hear over the sound of the rain and thunder, but it was there all the same. He pulled out the gun he’d taken from his truck and placed in the back of his pants. He wasn’t sure how many shots had been fired, but it was a good sign that there had been more than one.

Once again he waited. No sense entering too hastily. In fact, if either Leo or Peter had managed to survive, it would be better to catch them by surprise when they exited rather than walking into the danger zone.

The person who came out the back door wasn’t Peter or Leo, it was the dealer, carrying all three bags of money. The same man who was entrusted with making sure no player brought in weapons.

He was surprised to find himself staring down the barrel of one right that moment.

“I’m guessing you were a bit sloppy with the pat down on those two in there,” he said loud enough so the man could hear him over the rain. Chance had known all along both men inside were packing. In fact, he had counted on it.

The man just stared at Chance wide-eyed, then came to his senses. “We can split it,” he yelled, lifting up the bags.

“That’s an interesting offer, considering I’m the one holding the gun here.”

“Okay, look,” he said, bending down slowly to set the bags down. Chance watched him with cautious eyes.

Ah shit.

Even in the blinding rain, he could read the man’s reflexes: the sudden release of the bags at the last moment; a hard clenching of his shoulders; a quick movement with his arm.

By the time he stood up, Chance already had his finger on the trigger. He pulled before the man could even aim the gun he’d either brought with him, or taken off one of the two men inside.

At the same moment, thunder went off, drowning out the sound.

Once again, Chance was grateful for the nasty weather.

He looked down at the dead man before him. He’d never killed a man before and, despite it being self-defense, he took a moment to absorb the solemnity of the moment.

He still didn’t even know the man’s name.

* * *

Since the recently deceased dealer had managed to make it out of the building with all three bags of money, Chance felt safe enough entering the warehouse to inspect his handiwork.

Both men lay dead on either side of the table. Or so he thought.

He approached Leo first. He had one bullet wound to the shoulder and one straight through his head. Definitely dead.

“You should have just let sleeping dogs lie, you sad sack of shit. That’s for my brother.”

Chance stared down at Leo a moment longer, then rounded the table and found Peter with three bullet wounds to the chest. He blinked, which caused Chance to flinch in surprise. The pool of blood beneath him was rapidly growing. He gave a soft, slow wheeze as he stared up at Chance.

“This is for my father. I’m going to stay right here and watch you take your final breath. You can look the man who is responsible for your death right in the eye as you die, which is more than he got.”

Peter actually gave him a hint of a smile, as though he could respect that.

A minute later he was dead.

The plan had actually worked.

The lights flickered briefly, this time actually caused by the thunder outside. Chance had a quick opportunity to see his handiwork. About one-third of the cards on the table, specifically the face cards and aces, glowed with a large neon X on the back of them. They had been placed there with one calloused fingertip throughout the course of the game. There was also soft, green glow on both Peter’s and Leo’s fingertips obtained second-hand from holding some of those cards. It was enough for both of them to think the other was responsible for the marked cards. It was enough for both of them to draw the guns they had brought with them.

The brightest glow of all came from the “diamond” in the ring Chance had on his finger.

He pulled out his phone and dialed. It was answered on the first ring.

“I’m coming back to you, sweetheart.”