Cheap smoke clung the ratty green of the table in front of me. The soft cloth practically sticking the the side of my hand as I chekced the cards. A pair of sixes. One heart and one club. Fuck. I've had worse hands certaintly, but this. This was the type of shit you don't bet on.
No, calm down. Breath out slowly, focus. You show your emotions the gig is up. A good poker player knows how to win with anyhand. A great poker play doesn't even need to play the cards. That's what my dad taught me. And he learned from his.
"Still playing the game with us, Mr. Jake?"
I glanced up to the source of the smooth voice. The mans damn near plastic grin stared back at me. He's half balding head of greasy black hair pointlessly combed over and his perfect pressed and ironed black suit. He's skin free from any blemish or texture. The yellow lighting stained itself on his perfect teeth as he placed his cards face down onto the table. He's playing, of course. Trying to psych me out. Probably.
I ran my finger over my ring. Finding comfort in the smooth cold silver and faint worn engravings that mildly caught onto my thumb's nail. I could win this round. I just need to take the chance. My chair squeaked softly as I leaned back and ruffled through my cash. A few bucks, small blind. Nothing more than a couple hundred. Probably 200 bucks. the man watched the money as it landed in the center of the table. He nodded before offering up an equal amount of crisp bills. Probably freshly drew from the bank.
Nervous, Mr. Jake?"
Nervous? He's playing with me. The sick bastard. I ground down onto my teeth. "Focus on the game."
"You don't have to be. I don't cheat, Mr. Jake."
What does it matter? Words don't buy trust. Why should I trust a cheater wouldn't lie to cover their tracks? I decided to focus on the soft sound of wood underneath my tapping fingers. I watch as the flop. Ace, of spades. Not a bad card. A queen of diamonds. Shit card. And finally, a king of diamonds.
Lucky me. A pair of sixes. Shit. I need either another pair on the cards to at least get a two pair or another six for a full house. A full house would be a good hand to bet on. Less risk. But unlikely. I can't bet on chance. Best to bet on two-pair unless I count myself unusally-
"Your bet Mr. Jake."
I grabbed a small fist full of my cash and tossed it at the center of the table. I need to focus. Over thinking things will show on my face. If I looked stressed he'll just read me. I just need to stay calm. Maybe, if my hand is still shit, I could bluff it.
He matched my bet before turning over the fourth-street. An ace. Ace of Diamonds. Lovely, a two pair. It's nothing to go all in on, but at this rate anything is better than nothing. I should bet the same as before. But... It could be the closet I could get to the wining hand. If there was one to find.
Either way. Money comes and goes. After this I'll probably only have fifty bucks. But if I win, I get double. Double all I betted. What could I do with that? What couldn't I do with that? Fresh money is always in short supply.
The man nodded. His hands seemed so sure on his cards. Not stiff, nor shaky. Why was he sure? What cards did he have? Likely not a high card. No one is that confident with a high card. Could it be a flush? I mean, there is already an Ace, king and queen on the table. If he has a jack and ten it could work. And if they're all diamonds. It'll be a royal flush. No, no, no. Focus. Watch how he bets. How he bets well tell.
He glancse up from his cards, flasing me a smile before placing his cards back down. With a practised move her pushed what was left of his money to the center of the table.
"All in."
All in?! What? Shit. No. He has to be bluffing. Right? No one would risk it that much, right? I need to breath. Focus on breathing. Look, we have a two-pair. I just need one more card. One more card to maybe get a full house. If I'm lucky.
"Want to fold, Mr. Jake?"
Fold? No, no. I. I can't fold now. I only have about fifty bucks worth of crumpled bills. I run my fingers over my ring again, focusing on the soft cold metal. The engravings. How snuggly it sits against skin. The slight pinch it causes between my joints. I need to think logically. He's probably bluffing. Right?
No. What if he isn't? He seems so certain. So calm. What if he is sure because he has a royal flush. I will loose most of what I already paied but it would be better than potentially loosing the last few bucks I had.
I throw my cards across the table and leaned back into my chair. "Yeah."
"Oh, pity." He voice sounded out sickeninly sweet.
"You cheated?"
"Hardly."
He gently overturned his cards, a two of spades and a four of clubs. I let out of a scoff before I burst out laughing. I'd rather do that than sob.
"Fuck. Shit."