The Deadly Seven

The Pre-Fold

The Cobra was Rory King’s newest addition to his mansion.  Apart from his gaming room, billiard room, indoor pool, and bar, the casino room was his prized possession.  He had the floor carpeted in a cherry-red and the walls were painted a yellow ivory.  Huge portraits of people playing poker throughout the generations hung on his walls and golden plated chandeliers hovered overhead.   Large leather couches were arranged about the room, each having a coffee table in front of them.  There was a mini-bar across the room from the casino table and a stereo system that played iPods, platters, and CDs.

Rory hadn’t opened the venue until the young Ryder gave him a call.  He was a bit hesitant letting company into his fine room, but then he thought about how little they would feel when they would walk into his glorious, custom made casino.  He knew Winston would discuss the price and then never end up installing such a place in his room because it “wouldn’t be practical.”  And he knew Jim would make fun of his taste, when in reality, he was jealous of him.  And then lastly, he knew Finn would find a way to depreciate the whole project and leave a cigarette burn somewhere.  Rory never knew if Finn left one on purpose or out of a bad habit.

The game was set at eight o’clock and started at nine o’clock. 

Jim Austen stood in front of his full length mirror, adjusting his bow tie and buttoning his cuffs.  His dark hair was slicked back, emphasizing his narrow cheekbones.  His eyes stared at the emotionless reflection as his thoughts imagined what the evening would be like.  He knew he would win.  He had confidence in his intimidating demeanor and knew that if he slipped in the right card at the right time, he would win every single hand.  Jim had played with the other six players enough to know which one threatened him the most.  It was Finn Hoyt.  Out of the four games that had ever played together, Finn won three and left Jim with a pitiful win of only ten-thousand dollars. 

But that was two years ago.  Jim had improved and knew Finn enough to know when he was bluffing or had a solid hand.  He couldn’t let the twerp beat him again.  It was time he won what he deserved. 

As he smoothed the wrinkles out his shirt, he saw a notification light up on his phone.  Without reaching out, he looked at the screen and read with horror.  It was a bank notification—declaring he had “exceeded his threshold.”  He only had ten grand in his account.  Cursing profusely, he picked the phone up and began to dial the bank before he realized it was a Friday night.  He wouldn’t get anyone to help this late.  He would have to wait till Monday.

“How convenient,” Jim muttered as he grabbed his dinner jacket.  He shrugged it onto his shoulders and headed for the door, trying to figure out the fastest way he could get money without stealing or murdering.  Once he got to the car, he had an idea.  Jim revved up his Jaguar XK convertible and peeled out.  With the top down and the night hair breezing through his hair, he felt like a lord—invincible in every sense.     

His destination took him fifteen minutes.  He pulled up to a large, decorative iron gate.  Leaning out of his car, he pressed the call button.

“Welcome to The Greene Resident.  Please give us your name and provide your access code on the keypad below.”

“James Austen.”  Jim punched in the code and the gates opened.  He drove in slowly and parked outside of the ivory steps.  He hadn’t been to his uncle’s house in months.  Of course, Jim had seen him at many dinner parties and golf tournaments, but it had been awhile since he had paid him a personal visit.  Jim walked up the steps and rang the doorbell.  He heard Lydia’s pet retriever bay on the other side. 

The door opened and his uncle greeted him.  Startled, Mr. Greene said, “Well, well, James, it’s been awhile. What you doing here? How are you?”

“I’m fine. I had something to return to Lydia from our last visit.  Is she home?”

“She’s upstairs.  Can I get you a drink?”  Mr. Greene offered as he closed the door behind them.  He walked to the bar and began pouring a glass before Jim stopped him with a shake of the head.

“I’ll be leaving soon.  I need to get somewhere by eight, but thank you.”  He gave his uncle a curt smile and hurried up the glossy stairs.  He knew exactly where Lydia’s room was.  In fact, if he closed his eyes, he could follow her by the lilac perfume she wore.  He felt himself sweating across the brow and his heart began pulsing faster and faster.  Gathering his composure, he loosened his bowtie and knocked on her bedroom door.

“Who is it?” sung a female voice.

“James Austen.  I came to return this to you.” 

The white door opened and the beautiful Lydia Greene stood in the doorway.  She was wearing a silk sapphire blouse and fitted black pants.  Her face was lightly tanned, accentuating her crystal blue eyes and bright smile.  “Hey, Jim, how are you?”

Breathless, Jim replied with a stifle, “I’m good.  Can I come in?  It won’t take long.”

“Sure.” Lydia opened the door wider and motioned him in. 

Jim walked inside, his eyes not leaving hers.  “I have a favor.”

Lydia glided over to her make-up table and sat down.  “What is it?”

“I need a hundred-grand.  Five hundred-grand would be better, though.”

Lydia’s face turned red, and it wasn’t from the blush.  She stared as his cold face and turned around.  With her hands gripping the back of the chair, she gasped.  “You’re kidding.  Why?”

“I’ll win it all back.  You know I’m good at my game.”

“If you were good at your game, you wouldn’t be asking me for more money.  Is that why you came?”  Lydia turned back in her seat and resumed to her preening. 

Jim came up behind her and laid his hands on her arms.  With his face brushing her shoulder, he whispered, “Did you want me to come for another reason?”

Lydia moved out from underneath him and walked briskly over to her clothes closest.  “You should stop paying me visits, Jim.  You know I like your company, but I also know what you want.”  Facing him, Lydia said in her strongest voice, “And you know very well I can’t give it to you.”

Approaching her in unhurried steps, Jim smirked and pulled out a piece of paper.  Waving it in front of her, he said, “I don’t want to, but I will.”

“What is that?”

“You remember that trial I got you off of?”

Lydia’s face went white and her hands covered her mouth.  “You wouldn’t dare.”

Stopping in front of her, Jim said quietly, “You’re right, I wouldn’t.  But I need the money.  And I’ll win it back for you.  If you don’t,” Jim stopped to inhale the fragrance in her hair. “I will tell your husband about your little high school drug problem and your involvement with me.  You want me to do that?”  He lightly kissed her temple as she let out a distressed gasp.

“I’ll write you a check, okay?  I’ll do that and you get out.  And if you don’t pay me back, I’ll tell my uncle you seduced me into getting it, you understand?”

Jim smiled and stroked her cheek. “And if I tell him what the money was for?  You know my uncle isn’t keen with you associating yourself with gambling, especially since you’ve told him you stopped doing it.”

Lydia pushed him out of the way and went over to her checkbook.  She scribbled out the amount and handed it to him.  “Now, get out,” Lydia hissed. 

Giving her a kiss on the cheek and a wink, Jim left the room five-hundred grand richer.