Page 62 of Wolf's Chance

Rooms, food, and doctor visits had severely hit my finances. The latter, I suspected Willow would tell me I hadn’t needed, but it was my watch she got sick on, so she could bite me.

“Shit.” I flung the wallet onto the bed and sank into the chair. I’d paid for two nights, and because I said Willow was my wife, we ended up with a double bed once more.

Willow was already under the covers, curled up and peaceful. I needed to go find a quick way to make some cash.

I knew what I needed to do. I’d done it before, and looking down at myself, I knew I needed to change clothes first. I found a dark gray Henley at the bottom of my pack. Iswitched my belt to a custom one with a small knife holder—you never knew when you might need one. I tucked another knife into my boot, making sure my jeans concealed it.

I had a black jacket that I unrolled, shook out, and slipped on. I double-checked that Willow was still asleep, and then I went ahead and opened her toiletry bag and found a little tub of hair product. I took a little and smoothed my hair back with both hands.

There was a small notepad next to the telephone. It was a nice little detail. An actual landline, when was the last time I’d seen one of them? I left a note for mywife, telling her I wouldn’t be long, and then I snuck out of the lodge without the owner noticing.

The journey into the town was quiet and uneventful, with only a few cars passing by. The drivers who slowed down to check if they recognized me quickly moved on when they realized I was a stranger.

Finding the bar was not difficult at all. Despite the disappointing quietness, the night still held promise. I found a spot at the bar and asked for a beer. Then it was simply a matter of waiting and seeing who I could con.

The clientele remained low-key until around ten o’clock when four loud-mouthed jerks fell through the door. The bar, which was already quite subdued, became even more silent, and I discreetly watched as they aggressively pounded on the counter to be served. I half expected the bartender to refuse them, but although he looked pissed off, he served them four beers and four whisky chasers.

The way they confidently strolled through the barto the pool tables in the back made me believe that this night might actually have some potential.

I sat through their profanity-laden conversations and rowdy teasing, which oscillated between playful and outright aggressive, for a good twenty-five to thirty minutes. As soon as the leader of the group, who I had quickly identified as the loudest one upon their arrival at the bar, confidently proclaimed that his friends were all worthless and not worth challenging, I swiftly turned my chair around, ready to get his attention.

“Hey, man, don’t,” the bartender warned me quickly.

“You looking for a new player?” I shouted across the bar, ignoring the man behind me.

The four men grew quiet, and their leader shifted his focus to me. He had a tall stature, possibly around six feet, with a lean build that revealed some visible muscle. He had both arms covered in tattoos, with some extending to his neck. I saw he even had a teardrop tattooed on his cheek. You had to love the bad boy cliches.

“You good?” he asked with a sneer on his face, though it didn’t manage to make him appear intimidating if that was his intention.

“I play.” I didn’t stand up yet, and I changed my ploy from hustling to playing to his ego. “You decent?”

He looked at his friends, the sneer morphing into a smirk. “I play.”

Nodding, I leaned back against the bar. “I’m game, you?”

He licked his lower lip. One of his friends stepped into him, whispering into his ear,“He looks like he can play, Ray.”

Ray pushed him back a bit. “A hundred says I beat your ass.”

“Two hundred says you don’t.”

“You can’t bet in the bar,” the guy behind the bar said halfheartedly, and I got the impression his protest had fallen on deaf ears too many times.

“Let’s play,” Ray told me.

As I approached the pool table, I didn’t pay any attention to his three friends, who were all giving me dirty looks, each one trying to intimidate me in their own way. I wanted to tell them I’d seen pups with more bite than they had.

“Two hundred?” Ray confirmed.

“Too much?” I asked, taking a pool cue from the rack. I shrugged. “Fair enough, drop it to one.”

“I got two Benjamins, man.”

“Good.” He didn’t ask me ifIhad the money, which was his first mistake. His second was letting me win the toss.

The bar was so quiet you could hear a pin drop as I broke the rack, and the balls went everywhere. I kept my smile hidden when the first ball went straight into the side pocket. Ray hadn’t realized yet that I’d just set the tone for the game. I strolled around the table, acting like I was scoping out my next move. With a seamless stroke, the next ball effortlessly found its way into the corner pocket, and the cue ball smoothly rolled into position to line up for the next shot.

The four boys were now ominously quiet as well. With a controlled touch, I successfully sank my third ball, and as I turned to face Ray, I noticed his sneer disappear as he witnessed me lining up shot number four, which smoothly found its way into the opposite corner pocket.

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