Page 27 of Bozo

Jerry smiles as he clicks the button on his key fob to open the car. "Anytime, loveen. Now, let's get you home. You've got a big day tomorrow."

"A big day?" I ask, confused.

"Of course," he says with a wink. "You're going to meet the family."

I roll my eyes, but I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. "We'll see," I say, knowing I’m not really ready for that. I know he’s trying to help, to get me to meet new people, but I’m not ready.

NINE

BOZO

One Year Ago

“You up for this?” Lorcan questions with a grin. The man has made millions—hell, probably even more than that. He takes a cut of my profit as he stakes me, not to mention the money he takes in from rake. Every cash game and tournament he puts on, he’ll take a percentage. For tournaments, he’ll have a buy-in, and part of that buy-in will include a handling fee that goes straight to Lorcan’s business. Whereas the cash games are where he takes the most money, every pot played, a rake will be taken for the business. The higher the pot, the higher the rake.

"Always," I reply steadily. A poker game isn’t ever going to shake me. I’m good at what I do and now everyone knows it.

Lorcan claps me on the shoulder, pride and greed etched on his face. "That's my boy. Remember, there are a lot of crime bosses here tonight. You don't need to worry about them. You’re covered," he assures me.

One thing about Lorcan is he protects those he deems family, and for some fucked up reason, that includes me. We’ve beenworking together for years, and while I keep the hell out of the illegal side of his business and just play cards, I’m part of his family, and it’s in a way that won’t ever change no matter where my life takes me.

“Who’s here?” I ask. Over the years, I’ve met a lot of the crime bosses. Some are decent, others are fucking assholes and hate to lose. It all depends on what type of mood tonight brings. If they’re happy and joyous, they’ll play looser and won’t care about losing money, but if they’re uptight and in no mood to play… well, that’s when things can get dicey.

Over the years, I’ve changed a lot. I’m no longer the scrawny kid Lorcan met. I work out. I’ve gained about a hundred pounds, most of it pure muscle.

As we walk toward the private room, I see the warehouse that Lorcan uses as a casino is full to the brim. He’s holding a tournament tonight as well as a high-stakes cash game. The tournament is for those who can play fast and loose with a lot of money and love the thrill of playing poker.

I can feel the eyes of the players on me as we enter the back room where the cash game is taking place. Unlike the main floor, back here is decked out with plush leather seats for the players and waitresses ready to be at the beck and call of each player and get them drinks if they need.

Lorcan leans in close, his breath hot on my ear. "I've got a lot riding on this one, Connor."

I grin when I see my opponents. Jerry Houlihan and a couple of Americans are here, as are Lorenzo Mariano and Tempest, both here from Boston. Lorenzo is the son of Cesare Mariano, one of the heads of the Boston Syndicate Elite, and Tempest is the secretary for the Saint’s Outlaws motorcycle club. There are also two other guys that I don’t know. One is wearing a cut that says he’s part of a motorcycle club here in Dublin called FuryVipers. I’ve heard a little about them but haven’t met any as of yet.

I nod to Lorcan, understanding what he means. If we win tonight, we’ll win big. If not, it could mean owing someone big, and that’s not an option. This isn't just another game; it's a power play, a chance to solidify his position among these crime bosses.

As I take my seat at the table, I feel the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. The green felt beneath my fingertips, the soft clink of chips being stacked, it's all part of the ritual I've come to love.

Jerry Houlihan catches my eye and gives me a nod of recognition. Over the years, we’ve grown closer. He’s become almost a surrogate dad to Gráinne. He’s kept to his word and helped her out, paying for her school tuition and anything else she needs. She’s not seen her dad since the night I returned home. Instead, she stayed with Jer and became a member of the Houlihan family.

The Americans, Lorenzo and Tempest are eyeing me with curiosity. They've probably heard stories, but tonight they'll see for themselves what I can do.

The guy from the Fury Vipers is a wild card. His eyes are hard, constantly scanning the room as if expecting trouble. The other unknown player is older, in his late seventies, maybe older, with a full head of gray hair, and he's dressed in an expensive suit. He exudes an air of quiet confidence that tells me he's no amateur.

As the dealer begins to shuffle, I take a deep breath, centering myself. The first hand is dealt, and I glance at my cards—pocket kings. A strong start, but I'm not playing amateurs, that's for sure, so I'll take it easy and see how the play goes.

"Gentlemen," the dealer announces. "The game is No-Limit Texas Hold'em. Good luck."

The betting begins, and I can feel the tension in the room ratchet up a notch. The Fury Viper is first to act. He throws in a small bet; nothing too over the top, but enough to make a statement. The older gentleman smoothly calls, his face betraying nothing. He’s old school; I know that by just looking at him. He won’t be up to any bullshit tonight.

I consider my options carefully. With pocket kings, I'm sitting pretty, but I don't want to give away the strength of my hand too early. I match their bets, my chips sliding into the pot with a satisfying clink.

Lorenzo and Tempest fold quickly, clearly not willing to commit too much this early in the game. Jerry, however, surprises me by re-raising. His eyes meet mine briefly, a silent challenge dancing in them. Jerry knows me. He knows how good I am and what I’m capable of doing. He’s testing to see how far I’ll go in this first hand; how much I’m willing to show the other players at this early stage. The remaining players call Jer’s raise and I follow suit.

The flop comes down: ace of hearts, seven of clubs, two of diamonds. Not ideal for my kings, but not terrible either. The Fury Viper leads out with the exact same bet as he did pre-flop. The gentleman calls again, his movements deliberate and unhurried.

I can feel Lorcan's eyes boring into me from across the room. He knows as well as I do that this hand could set the tone for the entire night. I take a moment, weighing my options, before calling, and I’m not surprised when Jerry does the exact same.

The turn brings the jack of spades. No help there. It’s pretty much the same as the previous bet. It’s annoying that the Fury Viper guy hasn’t upped the ante, but I’m letting him lead, letting him set the pace, as we all are by the looks of things.

---