“If I told you that I trust your instincts, what would you say?”
“That you’re sweet talking me to do what you want.”
“I wouldn’t be able to do that even if I pointed a gun at your face,” There was a glint of mischief in his tone, justified by the way he smirked. “And let’s be honest, you’re already in.”
Then Duarte adjusted his position enough to have his full body turned to you.
“Remember what happened when you let your instincts lead last time?”
Amazing sex on a terrible couch? Of course you did. But of course you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
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“Hey, don’t try n’ call me a cheater! I’ve been at this game longer than you have!”
Race paused in the hallways of high school, hearing familiar voices from inside his former guardian’s classroom. He’d been at the library. It was quiet there. Race had been looking for quiet. If only for a few hours.
Letting his curiosity get the better of him, he strolled down to the door and peaked in.
“Ya can’t just show up n’ change the rules!”
“Gentlemen, I thought this was supposed to be a friendly little faculty meeting!”
“You cannot check and raise, man!”
“He’s right,” Race said, his hands in his pockets and four pairs of eyes whipped back towards him. All of these teachers were teachers of his.
There were four of them. Kelly, Kloppman, Jacobs and Parker. English, History, Journalism, and Chemistry.
“Higgins… what’re ya doin’ here?” Jack asked. No one but Race could catch the hint of concern in his voice as he took in the boy, tired and small, leaning against the doorframe.
The boy ignored his question. “So… this is what happens at faculty meetings?” he asked, strolling into the room.
“Just on Monday's,” Kloppman corrected. “It’s our weekly game. We don’t play for money. We talk, we relax. And we try to forget there’s such things as students.”
Jack smirked at that. And Davey snickered.
But Race paused. “Whoa, hold on, back up! Ya don’t play for money? Not even you, Dr. Parker?” He didn’t believe it. What was the fun in gambling if not for money?
“No need to! With finals around the corner, I’m sure to have fresh cash rolling in,” the man said. Though Race could only guess that he was joking as Kloppman rolled his eyes.
Shrugging, Race looked at the cards on the table. “Can I join?”
“No,” was the immediate response coming from four directions.
But the boy was nothing if not persistent. “Oh what, afraid of a little competition?”
Jack glared at him, ready to respond, but Kloppman cut him off. “Terrified. Now go,” he demanded in his signature, permanently monotoned voice.
Race rounded the table. “Alright, alright, how about we make a deal? I’ll play till I lose and then I’ll go home and study,” he promised, pulling up a chair next to Jack who studied him for a moment, possibly looking for some kind of sign that Race wasn’t okay. The boy pulled the sleeves of his sweatshirt down. He looked unharmed at the very least. “C’mon,” he smirked. “Ya can’t argue with that.”
Kloppman glanced up at him and sighed. “Fine… he needs the grades. Deal him in,” he caved, leaning back in his chair.
The other groaned in defeat, believing they were all going to win. Race only grinned.
—
“Well, now, I have three aces!” Kloppman exclaimed, putting his card down on the table. He leaned towards the kid. “Beat that, Mr. Higgins!”
Looking a bit defeated, Race sighed. “Alright… I only got two jacks and a ten,” he said, throwing down three cards. But then a smile spread on his lips. “And another jack and another ten. Looks like I win again!”
This was the fifth round they’d played. Jack’s gaze was narrow on the boy as he laughed. And David turned to the kid. “Alright, Higgins, I know you’re cheatin’. I just can’t figure out how.”
Race placed a dramatic hand over his heart. “Ya know, Mr. Jacobs, your words have soiled me,” he said, almost seriously. “Why can’t you guys just believe that maybe Antonio Higgins is good at somethin’!”
“Get off your high horse, Higgins! We all know you’re cheating!” Parker scolded, staring him down. Race scooted a little closer to Jack but didn’t show his discomfort further than that. “When I figure out how… we’ll talk,” the man smiled, impressed.
“Gentlemen, please!” Kloppman called. “The sooner he loses, the sooner he studies, at home, away from us,” the man reasoned, gesturing to the door.
Jack sighed and patted the kid on the shoulder. The boy smiled over at him like nothing could possibly be wrong. But Jack knew him better than that.
—
“Jack high, I win!” Race grinned, throwing his cards down on the table yet again.
His teachers groaned. “This may be the least amount of fun I’ve ever had,” Kloppman stated.
Jack took a sip of his soda. “Alright, Higgins, I’m not sayin’ you’re cheatin’... I’m thinkin’ it real hard, but I’m not sayin’ it.” He turned to fully look at the kid. “I just need ta know for my own peace of mind—“
“Enough with the pleasantries!” Parker interrupted. “I demand to know how you’re doin’ this!”
“Hey, I ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong!” Race argued, lifting up his arms as a sign of surrender. But he knocked over a bowl of pretzels in the process, gasping and flinching at the small movement.
Jack went to ask if he was alright, but Parker just scoffed. “Pick those up, Higgins.”
Shakily, the boy went to do so. “Alright… there’s only two hundred and forty six pretzels…”
Jack shook his head. “I’m sorry… what?”
“With four thousand, eight hundred and twenty eight grains of salt…” the boy added.
“The man’s a counter!” David accused, throwing his cards down. “Not that I’m surprised. He must’ve learned how to cheat from the best,” he said, glaring at Jack.
“Hey, watch it, Jacobs!” Jack playfully hissed before getting Race to stand up. “Alright, Rainman, we’re gettin’ ya outta here, come on,” he promoted, only throwing the boy over his shoulder when Race tried to push him off. “No, no, come on…” The kid practically went limp in his arms, waving to the rest of his teachers as Jack grabbed his own jacket and tossed it over the kid’s thin body.
When they were out in the hall, Jack let Tony slide back to his feet. “Alright, alright, talk ta me, kiddo… what’s goin’ on?”
Race shrugged. “Nothin’. Just… hangin’ in the library.”
Jack wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Okay… so ya don’t wanna talk about it… that’s fine… answer me this, though… ya hungry?”
Looking up at the man, Race smiled. “Hell yeah,” he breathed.
Jack led him out to his bike, offering him a spare helmet, one he’d gotten into the habit of taking with him when the boy had lived with him. He figured if anyone ever needed a ride, he’d have their back. He should’ve figured it would still mostly be reserved for that kid. “Well then, let’s go get some burgers n’ I’ll take ya home, yeah?”
The boy easily settled into his bike behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. He only nodded mutely.
Jack sighed. “Alright, pal, ya know you can talk ta me if—“
“Jack, I think I need help studyin’ f’r Kloppman’s test tomorrow…”
Jack sighed and nodded, patting Race’s arm. “Alright, kiddo… Let’s go ta Jacobi’s…”
He started up his bike, pulling the plastic of his helmet down as he took of down the street, only able to hope the boy would come to his sense eventually.
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Oh if only it were so simple, around the room the eyes....Bronson’s red eyes appeared in every set of shadows. Near or far it mattered not they’d see them. “If someone is the cause for why your life is ruined and you had the chance...to return the favor...wouldn’t you?” He asked casually.
The iron smell of the room seemed to grow. Cedrick being as he was...he was being used. His bloodied wounds were power. Now Bronson was everywhere with clones. But was the one in the seat actually him? Would they try and see if they nab the right one? There’s atleast six of him in the room.
“Make this simple. She’s here. Give her up. Everyone else can go. If you don’t? Well....” He grinned. All six of him grinned as they spoke in unison. “We’ll just have to kill you all if you won’t give up.”
Jacob would be honest with him self... yes. Yes he would. But when it was his family on the receiving end? It didn't go down well for him.
It was time to play poker.
When the clones erupted from around him, he snarled, knowing well exactly what they needed to do. "You're right. I would want that revenge just as anyone else." He let the clones move around the room, ignoring them and simply focusing on the one before him. "Why should we give up? One life.... to save four? Seems like a trade that is in our favor. I can't promise she won't fight you."
He then turned away from Bronson, stalking heavily toward Venreena and pushing Lorraine out of the way. He shot her a sharp look as he grabbed Venreena a bit too roughly, but then he turned toward her, seeing the glint in that orange gaze of his as he dragged her.
"This is your fault," he whispered menacingly in Venreena's ear as he all but manhandled her toward Bronson. "We give him you, my brother is saved.
