Page 19 of Property of Player

“Thirteen is unlucky,” my father mutters. “I really need to patch in one of the prospects.”

Drae and I both chuckle. My father really is one superstitious sonofabitch.

Dad downs his beer and grabs another, then turns. “Let’s get this over with.”

It’s become more of a torturous duty rather than an homage to my mother. But now that he’s started this tradition, he can’t break it. Bad luck and such, I suppose. I feel for him. I know the pain.

Still, we proceed with this show of public tribute.

Dad bets a hundred dollars on number sixteen.

In all these years, it’s never been a winner.

Today it hits.

He stares at the number, unmoving.

Drae hits him on the shoulder, then pulls him in for a bear hug. It’s not about the money. Everyone gathered around to watch knows that.

“That’s a good sign, Prez,” Drae whispers. “I think she approves of the house you bought.”

My father doesn’t speak. His jaw is clenched, but I see the glitter of tears in his eyes as he pulls back and nods.

“You ready to go?” Drae whispers.

“Yeah,” he rasps.

We collect his winnings, down our drinks, and troop outside.

Another year down.

Strapping on my helmet, I pull the locket from around my neck—the Saint Christophers medal Mom gave me for luck when I joined the club at eighteen.

“Love you, Ma,” I whisper.

Chapter six

Player

Late that night, I stop by The Rusty Pelican. When I walk in, it's not crowded. Spring break doesn’t start until next week, so this is most likely the lull before the storm.

I take a seat at the bar and scope the room, but there’s no sign of Taylor. A bartender I don’t know tosses a coaster on the bar top in front of me.

“What can I get you?”

“Give me an orange crush.”

“Yes, sir. Coming right up.”

I watch him make it. Filling my glass with orange juice, then tipping the vodka bottle, adding Triple Sec and a splash of Sprite.

He sets it in front of me.

“Thanks,” I say, and he takes my twenty to make change.

When he returns, I pull the stir stick from my mouth. “Taylor here?”

“I think she left, but here comes her sister.” He steps away, and my head turns to see Kayla. Great. She hasn’t liked me since I broke her sister’s heart. Guess I can’t blame her.