Page 48 of Deeper

Callen

Callen: Meet me at the club.

Rylan: I think you mean, “Will you please meet me at the club?”

Callen: You’ll be the one saying please tonight.

Rylan: Tatum and I are at Mohegan Sun. Come, and maybe you’ll find out if you can make me beg outside the club, without toys and equipment.

Callen: Your draw never had anything to do with the club. See you soon.

Rylan: We’ll see about that.

I’ve packed an overnight bag, and I am in my truck, driving to Rylan before much time has passed. The drive will take me about an hour, but I’ve been meaning to check out the casino while I’m here anyway. Rylan’s challenge made it impossible for me not to go find her, and I’ll enjoy proving that it’s me that causes her legs to shake and her cunt to spasm, not the club.

After I arrive, check in, and drop my bag off, I then go to find her without bothering to send a text. Inside the casino, groups of women who are dressed in napkin-sized dresses saunter around, and I ignore them. I pass a group of women decorated with dicks, obviously here for a bachelorette party, who are showering the soon-to-be bride with attention. There are the requisite drunks holding up the bar and complaining about how much they lost.

I eventually find the woman I’m looking for standing next to a roulette wheel. She ups her bet and places it on six. The wheel spins and slowly comes to a stop. She wins, and her face lights up. She doesn’t notice my advance as I come up behind her.

“You feeling lucky tonight, Little Bird?”

She jumps a little as my words reach her ear but quickly settles. “I do feel pretty good about my odds of scoring tonight. How about you?”

“Oh, I’m confident I’ll win big.”

My hands dip down to her ass.

“We’ll see how your cards play out. Now, take your hands off my ass and say hello to my friend, so we can get back to the game.”

After giving her ass a playful smack, I straighten and turn.

“Hello, Callen,” Tatum drones, completely unimpressed with my being here.

“Hello, Tatum. We up, or are we down?” I motion toward the wheel.

“I’m about even, and Rylan is up a few hundred.”

Rylan places her next bet on two while Tatum sticks with black. I don’t bet this time. The wheel spins…and lands on two, meaning they both win. The two girls celebrate and cheer for their victory. The lady in charge of the wheel smiles with them as I hand her a hundred to break for chips.

“What’s your strategy?” I lean in and question Rylan.

“I’d have to kill you if I told you.”

Killing is my job. Not hers. If she only knew…

“So, you’re blindly picking numbers then?”

“I am not.”

“Who has a strategy for roulette? It’s like the definition of chance. My strategy has been black, but I think I’m going to switch to red. That’s about as complicated as it gets,” Tatum adds.

“Tatum, you might not, but I have a strategy.” The smirk on Rylan’s face tells me she just might be picking numbers methodically or at least with some significance.

I study her choices. Rylan sets a stack of chips on twelve, and then Tatum picks red. I decide to join the fun and throw a bet down on twenty-one.

The wheel spins.

I lose, but both girls win again. Tatum dances in place and elicits a chuckle out of me. The girls give each other a high five before Rylan ups her bet again and places it on number twenty-three.

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