What Lies Beneath

When I spotted the perfect blackjack table, I smiled to myself. Oh, the dealer just looked so easy. The trick was finding one that would go well with the current façade I was sporting. Today I was a southern girl. I was in short jean shorts and a half-shirt. Plaid of course, and tied into a knot just above my belly button. My long, dark hair was in messy braids, tied with red ribbons. I looked positively naïve. And it took two hours to get to that.

I walked over to the table and evaluated the scene from closer up. There were two men sitting across from the dealer. Both looked almost the same age, and they sat with an empty chair between them. Their eyes were on their cards for the most part, though the man to my right peeked over at the other man every two minutes, almost on the nose. Curious.

They hardly mattered. The dealer was why I was here. That, and the lack of an auto shuffler. I was dressed as if I was looking to get tricked into a tangle in the sheets. So I scanned the whole room for the youngest looking dealer. Women would see this and, odds were, they would dislike me. A man would be distracted by the look and the attitude I was about to drown them in. Almost too easy, really.

I sat down and flashed my pearly white grin. "Hi, darlin'." I laid on the Louisiana accent as thick as I could. There wasn't an accent I couldn't do convincingly. Other than German. Couldn't get that damn one down. "And how are you this fine evenin'?" I batted my big green eyes at him, gauging his interest in me.

The man, maybe twenty-two, smiled back. "I'm great. How are you?" He said it to my chest, so I had to assume he wanted what I was offering.

I folded my hands on the table, pressing my arms together enough to kick up my cleavage. "I'm just fine." I giggled. Then I reached into my pocket for the thousand dollars I was playing with today. "Today is my birthday, and my daddy told me to paint the town red. Can you help me with that?" I tossed the cash to him.

He didn't blink at the money, and why should he? He saw more than that all the time. That was the point. I had much more up in my room, but the less cash you played with, the fewer eyes found you.

He took the money and put it away. "How do you want this broken up?"

"Um..." I clinked my tongue. "...maybe some of the small ones? There are small ones, right?"

He smiled and started giving me chips, explaining the value to them despite the fact that they were marked. I just nodded and smiled back at him. I needed to play it careful and not too heavy. He probably wouldn't pick up if I was laying it on too thick, but best not to chance it.

I didn't get a single chip over fifty, and that would work out just fine. Consistent bets were good. Keep it low and don't give them a reason to care.

I put my chin on hand and my elbow on the table, watching the man put the cards into a shuffler. His name-tag read Mike, but I ignored that.

"So," I said, "since we're gonna be spendin' some time together, I should probably introduce myself. Lila Crane."

The man to my right looked over at me, and the corner of his mouth twitched up. I guess he'd caught what the other two men hadn't.

My real name was Mila Moody. Well, real was a relative term. I didn't actually remember what my last name was when I'd been younger. It had changed so much. And to be fair, even that name was a lie. Mila was real. That was what I could hold on to.

"Mike." He pointed to his nametag.

I nodded and made a noise so he would know I saw it.

He started dealing, and I went on about how today was my twenty-first birthday and my parents had brought me to celebrate. Only mostly a lie. It was my eighteenth birthday, and my parents were dead. But my big brother, Jaxon, had brought me. He'd thought we could use a little fun. It was why I was playing for such small potatoes. One light weekend before we left town. We never stayed in Vegas more than two days. A rule he had.

I'd been to Vegas plenty of times, but this was the first time I seemed to look old enough to play. Normally I sat in a hotel room eating and watching TV while Jax had all the fun. He'd made me a fake ID to get in. It had worked for me in smaller casinos. Ones that didn't care so much if a girl blew all her money being stupid. I've cleaned up really well all over this country.

I looked down at my cards. A two and a king. Damn.

By the rules of the universe and science and stuff, a card worth ten was the most likely thing to come up. We were playing with what looked like five decks. Eighty cards worth ten. Those eighty cards would either screw me or buy me dinner for the next week.

I went a few hands pretending that I was getting the hand of the game. I watched the men beside me, doing fairly well. The one to my left was betting big, and the one to my right was far more interested in the man to my left.

As subtly as I could, I checked him out, trying to see if I could figure out why he was here. Even sitting down, I could tell he was wonderfully tall. Not that I was short. I hovered just under five-six. Jax promised that I was a normal height. Anyway... I was good with ages, so I had to guess this man was around twenty-three or four. His hair was dark blond and it just barely hit his ears. I couldn't see much of his eyes, but they were hazel, warm brown mixing with a brilliant green, and somehow not looking bad. A crease formed between his eyebrows, I assumed from stress. He didn't seem like he gave a damn about this game.

The other man was much shorter. He, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. He was smiling and increasing his bet with two black chips. Okay, so he had money. The other guy wasn't nearly as dressed up. Lefty was in a boring black suit while Tall, Pale, And A Little Sexy was in jeans and a dark blue button-up and worn boots. His sleeves were to his elbows, and he was just a... moron.

He wasn't playing his game right. Any of it. He was here for the man beside me, and it was all over his face. When I looked closer, his eyes held quiet and indignant rage. I wish I could focus more on him and pick his motivations apart, but I had a job to do.

"I'd like to stay put, honey." I smiled and waved my hand over the cards when the dealer said it was my turn. My hand was at fifteen, and I had to forfeit the hand. The next card was either a ten value or too low to matter. I'd already busted twice.

I'd let myself win twenty bucks, but was down a hundred-and-forty. I wasn't worried, of course. I was only getting started.

I had eidetic memory, and that was just a gift from God. It made so many things in my line of non-work much easier. Though counting cards while trying to keep this dopey look on my face wasn't that easy.

I wasn't a good person, but I did what I had to so that I could get by. I'd learned from my brother, and he'd learned from our parents. It was the only life I knew, and I enjoyed it. If that made me a bitch, that was fine. What else was I gonna be?

"Bust. Sorry, sir," the dealer said to my friend to the right. I almost felt bad for him as he was losing chips. I wanted to shake him and tell him he was going at this all wrong. If he wanted something from this man, he needed to act like he wasn't a damn stalker. Even an amateur would notice his lack of interest.

The other man would have noticed if he hadn't been so happy about his winnings. He looked like he was doing well in life. A wedding ring with diamonds was on his finger, as well as a shiny watch that I may need to liberate from him later. The next hand, when I got twenty-one, I squeaked in delight. "Did I do it?!"

Mike nodded with a polite smile. "You did." He pushed my chips forward. Fifty bucks.

"Congrats." The man on the left laughed at me. He stood up beside me. "Never better than the first time." His tone wasn't quite like an innuendo, but...

Gross.

"Thank you." I wrinkled my nose and smiled, running my hand down his arm while slipping my other one into his jacket. Quick was the key. Mike was dealing to Righty, and Lefty was checking out my cleavage. I felt something leather and square in his pocket, so I slipped it out and retreated. I adjusted in my seat and stuck the wallet in my back pocket. The other pocket held my pocketknife.

He gathered his chips and watched me. "Happy birthday, sweetheart. I hope I see you around."

"You too," I lied.

He tossed a five-hundred-dollar chip onto my pile and walked off. Huh, interesting.

I played until I was up a couple grand, with a few big losses thrown in there. No one seemed like they were onto me, so I enjoyed myself. The guy by my side... did not. With his buddy gone, he was watching me like a hawk. And that was my cue to leave.

I sighed and said, "Thank you, Mikey. I've had just a lovely time here." I stood up. "Can you make these into the bigger ones for me? I don't wanna drop anything."

He did as I'd asked, while only taking a quick peek at my chest again. Thank God for push-up bras, my love of fried chicken, and cake at three in the morning. I was curvy in all the right places, and that really came in handy.

I got all my chips and decided to find my brother. He was supposedly looking for a buffet. He'd been muttering about cheap steak when we separated.

The casino we'd picked was purely for that stupid buffet. Jax had a thing for free or cheap food. And expensive food. Or, any food. The fact that he'd managed to stay in shape at all was almost amazing.

While I was walking, I fixed up my shirt so that he wouldn't have a heart attack. Jax didn't like when I used what I had to get things. He'd always scolded me when I had. It wasn't as if I'd done anything unsavory. I would flirt a little and show off my body. Not nearly as far as he'd gone. But I was smart enough to not mix business and pleasure.

I followed signs until I found the food. This place was a decent size, and he wouldn't hear his phone if I called him. The buzz of the people and the machines would drown it out.

I could see Jax through the entrance, and he had a plate in his hand. He was shoving chicken into his mouth and watching the pretty girls walk by. May as well kill some time then.

After I cashed out my chips, I got about ten dollars' worth of quarters and a bucket before heading to a slot machine. I knew it was a scam, but I liked all the lights. Worth a couple bucks here and there.

The first quarter went in, and I pulled the handle. I won a dollar. Yay.

I sat there with the cup of coins between my legs as I pulled apart the stupid braids I was wearing. They made me look younger than what I was going for. Not a good thing. I could always find my way to another casino, but I liked this one. It was bright and loud in an oddly comforting way. Something I was used to.

After I lost three dollars, I sighed. Jax was probably still eating, but I was getting bored. I wished for something interesting to happen, and I slipped a quarter into the machine.

"Not quite a fountain," I mumbled, "but you'll do."

Two cherries and a seven...

A throat cleared as Righty took a seat beside me. To the left oddly enough. He smiled at me and said, "And here I thought you were just a sweet little ditz from the south. I'm almost disappointed, darlin'."

My eyebrow went up. "Damn, so sorry. My whole evening was resting on the approval of a creep who doesn't properly know how to case a guy." "Excuse me?"

I smiled. "Oh, okay, we're playing dumb. Well, your shoddy skills would have gotten you real hurt if you were dealing with someone smarter than that guy."

He laughed. "And what do you know about him?"

"Probably more than you do. If I got a dime for every time you looked over at him, well, I could put them in a sock and beat you to death with it. So I'll pay it forward here and tell you, you need to be a little more stealthy." "Oh, like stealing something off his body?"

Hmm. Wanting to beat him more... and oddly, less, with dimes every moment... "You saw that?" "Yeah."

I stood up. "Then clearly you were checking out my ass. Thanks." I smiled again and started walking. I didn't need to converse with someone who wanted to die as badly as he did. Being careless got holes put in your head. My parents had taught me that.

Something grabbed my belt loop and spun me. I was almost pinned to the wall. Righty stood with his arms crossed as he stared down at me. Huh, I guess he is pretty tall after all. At least a foot taller than me. "We're not done talking, Mary Ann."

So not Mary Ann. She never had red cowgirl boots.

I laughed at him. "All right, buddy. What do you think you're gonna do here? There are people in every direction. I scream, and the wolves descend."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to hurt you. Unless you give me a reason. You just have something I want."

I scoffed. "I bet, psycho."

"Christ..." he sighed. "I'm not looking to screw a fifteen-year-old."

Damn, I knew I looked too young.

"I'm eighteen, dick. And I'm done with you, so..." I tried shoving him aside, but he was like a brick wall. A brick wall that very clearly had a wallet in his pocket. I doubted there was much in it, but he was being a prick. "Kid," he said with exasperation, "you don't know what you're getting in the middle of. So if you wouldn't mind just giving me "

I moved forward, pressing up against him. I only needed to distract him long enough to get my hand in his pocket. "Again, I'm not a kid. But you know that." I put his hands on my hips and aimed my eyes up at him. "It's my birthday. You should be nice to me." I had my hand on his wallet and pressed harder against him as I pulled it out. "Maybe I can be nice to you too."

Jax would kill me if he saw this...

I got nothing but a smile.

"No thanks. I really like that wallet though. So I'd appreciate it if you gave it back."

Since the jig was already up, I held it to my chest. "Oh, you mean this?"

He pushed me back and held out his hand. "I really don't want to hurt you."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm shaking in my boots over here, baby. But since I'm kind..." I handed it to him.

"LALA!" I heard from maybe thirty feet away. I saw my brother with a mouthful of food and a grin as he waved wildly. "Isn't it about time for your syphilis medication!?" he shouted.

The man beside me snickered. "Lala?"

I flipped my brother off. It wasn't for the nickname. It was for assuming I was about to take a ride on this guy, and that he needed to step in to stop it.

Jax lost interest in me when a scantily clad, feather-covered girl walked by him with an obnoxious sway to her hips. His eyes followed as if she was steak, and he hadn't eaten in a week. I huffed. "Have a nice life," I said to the stranger.

"Hold on." He grabbed my wrist and hauled me back. "I told you we weren't done yet."

All right then. So Mr. Almost Muscle-y But Not Quite wanted a fight. If I needed backup, Jax would be here in a moment. But I wanted to handle this on my own. He needed to see me being able to take care of myself. I glanced over to my brother, and he was chatting with that girl. He was smiling and she was... not. She slapped him right across the face and stormed off.

Time to go.

I pulled my wrist back from the man. "And a very merry unbirthday to you too, dollface." I walked quickly away from him. If he wanted to hurt me, then he would need to chase me down in front of a few-hundred witnesses.

I made it to my brother, who still had a mouthful of food to go along with his pout. "She was pretty." He was looking in the retreating female's direction, and then he stared back at me. "She hit me, Lala."

I rubbed his arm. "I know. How'd ya do?"

He looked at his plate. "Seventeen chicken wings and a pounds taters. But now my hands are greasy, and my nose itches."

I smiled again and scratched his nose with my index finger.

My brother and I were really nothing alike. He was a giant goofball most of the time. But when he was working, he was all business. Unless he could say something clever; then he was one big smart ass. It would get him killed one day. Personality-wise, we were quite different. But it would only take one glance to see that we were related. He was a bit taller at six-two, and his hair was the same shade of brown as mine. His was kept really short because it would curl, otherwise. Where my eyes were pale green, his were pale grey, like our mother. Or so he said. It was too long ago for me to remember that clearly. He was just over ten years older than I was, essentially becoming my father at the tender age of fifteen. But he was a good to me. He didn't have to be. It would have been easy to dump me at some police station. He'd chosen to keep me.

"How'd you do?" he asked.

I looked back to see where that man went. I was relieved when I didn't see him anywhere. "Um, pretty good. A couple grand." "Cool. You can buy me a pony."

I patted his shoulder and linked our arms. "How about we just go watch bad TV for a while?"

We started walking, and I still looked over my shoulder.

"Fine," he conceded. "But if you make me watch that damn witch show again..."

"Shut up." I laughed. "It's a classic. And it's my birthday anyway."

He grumbled. "Whatever. They're too wholesome for me anyway. I prefer a story with bite, maybe some people that have some darkness to them. If you ask me..."

"I didn't."

"Cuz you're boring."

"I'm practical."

"Lame."

"Smart."

"Uptight."

"Realistic. Practical. Bad people aren't supposed to be rooted for, remember?"

He stopped and faced me. "Lighten up, little sis. All the best stuff in life is impractical. Crazy. A bad idea. Get used to it."