Chapter 40
[ 513 words ]
Chapter 40:
He was holding his two cards with his left hand, his thumb slightly obscuring the corners. His face was a mask of absolute, terrifying blankness. His eyes were dead, revealing absolutely zero emotion. It was the face of a man who bluffed with human lives, let alone playing cards.
The flop came down. A Jack, a Seven, and a Two.
Caroline had three of a kind. Her pulse jumped. She pushed a dollar bill into the center.
Jarrod didn’t even blink. He tossed in a five-dollar bill.
The game continued. Within three hands, the casual family atmosphere evaporated.
Jarrod was a monster at the table. He possessed a terrifying, almost supernatural ability to calculate odds and read micro-expressions. He didn’t play the cards; he played the players. He knew exactly when Mr. Thompson was bluffing. He knew exactly when Caroline was hesitating.
He didn’t show mercy. He systematically, ruthlessly dismantled their stacks.
Thirty minutes later, Caroline pushed her last three quarters into the pot, glaring at the center cards. She had a full house. She was sure she had him.
𝘕е𝘸 𝘄𝗲𝘦𝘬𝗅𝘺 c𝗁аpt𝖾𝗿s о𝗻 𝘨𝗮𝘭𝗻𝗼v𝘦l𝗌.𝗰𝗼𝗺
Jarrod met her angry gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched. He slowly turned over his cards.
Straight flush.
Caroline let out a frustrated breath, her shoulders slumping. He had wiped her out completely.
She leaned toward him, dropping her voice to a furious whisper so her parents wouldn’t hear. “You are bullying us. You’re a professional tactician playing against civilians.”
Jarrod turned his head. His face was inches from hers. She could feel the heat of his breath on her cheek.
“In a warzone, Caroline,” Jarrod whispered back, his voice a dark, vibrating purr, “showing mercy to your enemy is just another way of killing yourself. You play to annihilate.”
Caroline shivered, the raw, predatory truth in his words sending a jolt down her spine. “This isn’t a warzone. It’s my living room.”
Before he could answer, a massive crack of thunder shook the house.
The windows rattled violently in their frames. The rain outside intensified into a deafening roar, pounding against the roof like a barrage of artillery fire.
Mrs. Thompson looked toward the window, her eyes widening. Then, a slow, calculating gleam appeared in her eyes. She turned back to Jarrod, her face splitting into a wide, overly enthusiastic smile.
“Oh my goodness, listen to that storm!” Mrs. Thompson exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “The roads must be completely flooded. It’s far too dangerous to drive back to the city tonight.”
Caroline’s stomach plummeted. “Mom, he has a massive SUV, he’ll be fine—”
“Nonsense!” Mrs. Thompson cut her off sharply. She looked at Jarrod with a sickeningly sweet expression. “Jarrod, you simply must stay the night. We insist. It’s the only safe thing to do.”
“No!”
The word ripped out of Caroline’s throat before she could stop it. She scrambled to her feet, her bare heels digging into the carpet. She looked at her mother like the woman had just suggested setting the house on fire.
“Mom, we don’t have a guest room,” Caroline said, her voice rising in panic. “The spare room is full of Dad’s old exercise equipment. There is literally nowhere for him to sleep.”
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