“Bitch needs a lesson in manners,” Blake muttered.
“And one of us will get to teach it to her,” said another, chortling.
I hung my head as he retreated. If any of them tried to hurt me, I could only guess what Lucas would do, but there were five of them and only one of him.
Would any more Blood Colonels show? How many were stationed in this area?
Tears dripped from my chin, splashing onto my lap. The pain in my back was a constant friend now.
Chairs scooted across the floor. Chips and cards were distributed. A game of Texas Hold ’Em began.
“You playing to win, Scotty?” one asked.
“Is there another reason to play?” His voice was bored.
Cards shuffled.
Another one snorted, voice mocking. “Never been interested in playing before. What changed your mind, Scott?”
“Jack seemed to think she’s tighter than a drum. Isn’t that why you’re here too, Jamie?”
Kingston grinned widely. “First time for everything, isn’t there?” He raised his voice. “How do you feel about that, sugar? You feel special?”
My head shot up. Lucas sat facing me. His blue-green gaze was unwavering, making my heart race, my breaths deepen.
“Aw, she’s scared of you, Luke,” Kingston said.
“She didn’t seem scared earlier when she was begging on her knees for mercy.”
Miller chuckled and threw some chips to the middle of the table. “You’ve got that pretty face to hide behind. The whores don’t realize you’re worse than the rest of us.”
Lucas’s smirk promised pain. “I think she’ll figure it out soon enough.”
Couldn’t they see the bloodthirst behind his expression? Maybe he always looked that way around them, but his eyes shone with murderous wrath, and I silently begged him to do nothing.
He returned his attention to the game, and their conversation drifted. They spoke of their irritation with the Defiance and speculated about the traitor. They complained about their general, gossiped about lower-ranking Hunters, and bragged about the women they’d fucked. Every once in a while, one would turn toward me and wink or leer.
Laser-focused on the game, Lucas didn’t look my way again. He became a shark in a pool of fish. The blinds raised, and his strategy aggressed.
A balding man who looked to be the oldest of them was the first to bust. He leaned back in his chair and shrugged, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Too bad, sugar. You and me would’ve had some fun.”
Lucas’s chips grew. His lowball sat untouched on the green felt. The blinds increased again.
Kingston busted next, followed by one other I didn’t recognize.
Tension drew the air taut. I stood, my fingers clutching the bars of my cage until my knuckles whitened and the tips tingled, but I still couldn’t see the cards on the table.
The grin on Miller’s face was pure delight. He raised, forcing both Lucas and Blake to drain their stacks, but then folded. Lucas won the hand, and Miller was short-stacked. He busted on the next hand, leaving only Lucas and Blake.
“Good thing I already had her,” Miller said with a rowdy laugh and drained his whiskey.
Hand after hand played, each man hedging bets, until Lucas raised in the third round. Blake lifted a brow, contemplating. He called. Play continued. In the last round, Lucas raised again. Blake did the same.
The two men stared at each other, neither smiling. The teasing and chatter from the others died.
“Seem pretty confident there, Scott,” Blake said.
Lucas didn’t reply.
