Chapter 16

Charles

I had hardly slept, so I’d gone to the beach early to clear my head. I had kicked off my shoes and paced the length of the beach in the shallow surf two or three times while I watched the sun pop up over the horizon.

I had a sudden deep hatred for myself for how I had reacted to everything. Thoughts ran through my head of buying flowers and going on fucking stupid dates. I had never felt this way, and I had no real knowledge of how to react to it. Fuck…and the only solution I had, or at least to try to understand it myself, was to call Jonathan. I went back to the beach hut and grabbed my cell phone and planted my ass firmly on a seat.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Jonathan. How is everything over there?” I asked.

“It’s okay. Everything is pretty much back on track now, just how you said it would be,” he replied. “How are you doing on the island? How is the princess?”

“I’m fucked, man. I’m totally fucked,” I said in an angry tone. “It’s Kent’s fault. I could fucking kill him.”

“Charles, calm down. I’ve never heard you like this before. What’s wrong?” he asked in a concerned voice.

“I could wring his fucking neck. I’m sure he realized I would end up falling for her. I just… I just don’t know!” I said, confused.

I realized I was being, and becoming, more irrational the more I thought about it. I needed a shoulder—though not a shoulder to cry on; I just needed some support.

“Charles, hang on there, buddy. I’ll come and get you. I’ll take the speedboat,” he said.

I realized the only way I could cut off the damage that was already done was to get away, and to get away as quickly as possible. I had to get free from her and fuck whatever feelings she had for me; that was her problem, not mine. It appeared I had my own demons to face, and the sooner I could face them, the sooner I could get back to my normal life.

I started to climb the steps in the cliff and had more thoughts on the subject. I had tried to convince myself that age was an issue and that would be my way out. After all, she was still a child who was only just discovering the world, and I was a grown man. That’s it. She was too young, and I had no need to worry. I had the world looking up at me, and she was just the child of a burned-out, alcoholic investment banker.

I had my mind sort of straight, and I headed to the office and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. “Princess, thanks for the weekend. I hope you learned a very valuable lesson,” I wrote. That should do it. It said everything and should cut her off mid-step, and if that was not enough to make her realize, I didn’t know what would.

I quietly crept up the stairs and entered my bedroom. Welcome to my nightmare. How fucking cryptic was that when I had said it last night? I entered my room, and there she was, my fucking nightmare of the moment, little Elizabeth, asleep.

I packed my clothes and grabbed my toys and headed off to the pier to wait for Jonathan. I stood at the end of it like a lone warrior waiting to head off into the wilderness, yet I had the feeling I was running away, and I had never run away from anything. I really was fucked, and I knew it. I just needed to find a way to get over it, and I needed to do this quickly before it ate away at me. Otherwise, I would end up changing my mind and go running back to her.

Shit, fuck, bastard, I thought as I kicked my foot against the pier. Is this what real relationships are like? I was glad I had never had one before. The aggravation was just too much, yet my heart felt like it was in a tug of war. Christ, it was pulled one way and then it was pulled the other. I had no idea how to react or what to do. It was understandable that my head was spinning.

“Come on, Jonathan, where the fuck are you?” I mumbled under my breath.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and saw the speedboat just break the horizon. The boat, as if by magic, grew larger and larger as Jonathan approached the pier.

“Sorry I was delayed. The harbor master was late getting there to open up,” Jonathan said as he steered the boat against the jetty.

“So, have you seen her yet? Was she awake?” Jonathan asked.

“No. She was dead to the world. I didn’t want to wake her. I didn’t want the confrontation,” I said.

I threw my things into the boat, jumped aboard, and took a seat at the back. Jonathan was my best friend. I had no urge to hold any conversation with him, though, and as my best friend, he knew this too, so he just concentrated on getting me home.

I looked out across the ocean at the first full beams of sun hitting it. I just sat and tried to think. My mind had hit a dead zone and become numb. I had no rational thoughts in my head; thank god for the numbness.

I sat there and let the fresh air and the sea spray wash over my face. I breathed in the salty air and tried to clear my mind. I found myself looking around the boat and saw my case of toys on the floor. My toys, my beloved toys. They would help to take my mind off Elizabeth. Yet when I pictured a scenario with another woman, introducing them as I always did, I had an empty feeling in my stomach and the overwhelming urge to puke. I couldn’t even picture myself using them at all, never mind using them with another woman.

The whole weekend had made no sense at all when I thought back to the start. Did I start to fall for her when I saw her picture? It was like she had snuck up on me and ensnared me like a wild animal. I had become trapped, trapped in my emotions and my own mind.

“Jonathan, is there anything for me to do at the office?” I asked as we started to close in on the harbor.

“Not really. It’s Sunday, and even greedy investment bankers have to have a day off,” he said as he steered the boat toward the pier.

Jonathan fastened the boat to the jetty, and I stepped back onto the mainland. Maybe this was what I needed, less focus in a larger area. Surely, I could lose myself and my thoughts now that I was home.

I walked from the harbor and saw the limo waiting in the car lot. I slid into the back seat and told the driver to take me home.

When I entered my apartment and hit the shower, I stood there with the water cascading over me and washing the weekend away. My mind slipped back to the island, and I thought of the lagoon and the waterfall. I pictured Elizabeth standing under the waterfall with the water crashing down on her. Damn, even a simple shower reminded me of her, and I wondered how many other things would remind me of her throughout the day.

Then I had it, the one thing that would take my mind off things.

I needed to call Alek.

“Hello, Alek. This is Charles,” I said when he answered.

“Hi, Charles. How the bloody hell are you?” he replied in a fun tone.

Alek was a close associate who had emigrated from England when he was in his twenties. He’d had to do a runner, as he’d owed quite a bundle to some East End London gangsters. I had bumped into him through our love of poker. He was addicted, and I was just a fucking good player, so we clashed, yet we had become close. Alek had his finger in all the games that were going on around town, and if anyone could get me into a high-stakes game, it was him.

“Are there any games going on today?” I asked.

“Charles, today is your lucky day. There is a game downtown that starts in a couple of hours if you’re interested,” Alek said.

“What’s the buy in?”

“Half a million. Can you lay your hands on that sort of cash today?”

“If the game starts in two hours, half a million is easy,” I said, chuckling into the phone.

“I’ll pick you up at your apartment in a while,” Alek said.

“I’ll be waiting,” I said.

Poker, now why had I not thought of that before? I was feeling better already. If there was anything that could divert my focus away from Elizabeth, it had to be poker.

I stood outside the apartment as Alek rounded the corner and drove up beside me. I quickly opened the door and jumped into his car.

“It’s nice to see you again, Alek. It has been too long,” I said.

“Likewise. It’s always a pleasure to see you, Charles.” He hit the gas, and the car tires squealed.

“So why the rush to find a game?” Alek asked as he started to weave through the traffic.

“Ah, you know. I’ve had a couple of rough days and I want to blow off some steam,” I said, wondering if Elizabeth had woken up to find me not there yet. “Where is the game then?”

“It’s with the Russians. They have some guests in town and wanted to put on a bit of a show, so they have arranged a tournament.”

“I bet we will see some old faces there. It’s been too long since I have played like this.”

We arrived at the spot where the game was being held. The Russians had picked Da Vita, an old restaurant that they owned. I had heard it was used for drug manufacturing, but that had been in the old days before they went legit with many of their other operations.

I should have read the signs as we entered the building; everywhere I looked, there were things that reminded me of Elizabeth. It seemed as if all the women there had long blond hair, which was not a good start.

Alek and I sat at different tables, thinking it less than smart to compete against each other right at the start. The first few games seemed to fly by. Even though it was a big buy-in to the game, there were a lot of online players who thought they could make it in the real world. How wrong they were.

My mind had started to drift away from thoughts of Elizabeth, right up until a waitress came up to me. “Is there anything I can get you, Sir?”

I turned my head to look up at her. She was a leggy blonde, and her hair was long. I instantly had a vision of Elizabeth. I looked back at my cards, and everything was blurred. I had just totally lost my clear vision, and my next play was gone.

“Check,” I said to bide my time.

“Raise,” said Antonio as he shoved a stack of chips forward on the table.

I could sense I was just about to lose my big first hand. The pot was at two hundred and fifty grand, so it would make a big dent in my stash if I lost. I closed my eyes and regained my focus, my poker face coming back. I was in control—right where I liked to be.

“Raise one hundred grand,” I said as I counted my stack and shoved it forward.

The play continued to go around the table until it reached Antonio. I stared as he checked his cards and thought.

“Raise,” he said after what seemed like a lifetime.

The dealer dealt us all another card, and after a few minutes of mental deliberation, the play continued. I watched as a couple of players cursed and swore as they threw their cards on the table. One or two said fold, as either they had nothing or the pot had just grown too big.

The table was just the three of us, Antonio, one of the visitors, and me. I had never been one to shy away from a bluff, yet I did have a pretty decent hand. I raised, and the table raised with me. The pot in the middle of the table had grown to one million two hundred thousand, and this was not the final table. I looked around as the crowd of onlookers grew at the table. There was no way the visitor was going to back down. He had to show his nerve to the locals, and how deep his pockets were.

We sat and stared at each other, and we tried to read each other’s faces as we looked for any weaknesses or signs of what our cards could be. I had seen a few cards face up when some had folded, and the odds, it appeared, had gone in my favor.

I had calculated what I needed to win. I had a hand full of black. Just one card and I had a flush up to the jack. It was a big risk, but that was why this game was so addictive. I had forgotten about Elizabeth to concentrate on this.

Again, the play passed between the three of us, and the visitor folded; his hand was going nowhere. He was a couple of hundred grand down. Antonio raised, and I called his bluff and raised. Our cards were face down on the table, and it all depended on the turn of the card from the dealer. We raised again, and then Antonio called. I turned my cards over one by one. All clubs up to the ten. I just needed the jack and the pot would be mine. I was sure Antonio would have nothing better than me.

I watched as he turned his cards one by one. He had a pair of queens. The dealer started to turn the last card, and I heard the gasps of breath from the crowd as they all saw the card. The dealer flipped it.

It was the queen of hearts.

“Fuck,” I said quietly.

My mind immediately flashed to thoughts of Elizabeth. Had she become my queen of hearts and I had lost myself to her? Fuck!