The Gambler

Chapter 2 Tess

CHAPTER 2

TESS

San Quentin prison was exactly what Tess expected it to be—dark and gloomy. It sent chills through her as she passed along security and was led to a structure away from the actual prison. The place was barred with a big fence. From what she could see, it was more like a row of motel rooms stacked against each other. At the end of the row, she saw another guard leading a woman inside. Her husband, or boyfriend, was waiting for her outside, and they crashed into each other in a big hug. No hugs for her, of course. That wasn’t the reason she was here.

Nope, she was here to enlist someone’s help in exchange for a favor. She was getting really desperate at keeping her little family together. To not knuckle under the weight of the financial mess her father had put her in. Every day, it became more and more difficult not to cross over to the Dark Side. Sure, Anakin Skywalker had turned into a freak after he succumbed to his darker side, but hey, look at the man now. He was doing just fine, roaming in a galaxy far, far away. Darth Vader never had to worry about paying rent, putting food on the table, or help pay off his father’s debts.

It would be really easy too. All she had to do was hack into a few credit card accounts, hardly a challenge. Of course, she would pick big corporate assholes, starting with the CEO’s of Big Pharma. They wouldn’t even feel a few thousand dollars gone missing here and there. But then what? The Dark Side would lurk. Collecting digital coins could quickly get out of hand and in the end, she might get caught. She was already skimming money from too many various sources. The more she took, the bigger the chance of it no longer going undetected. Thus, landing her ass in jail. Then who would take care of her pops?

All of this went through her head as she stood waiting in the small hallway for her prince in orange armor to show up. It didn’t take long before her mark entered the room.

The first thing she noticed about Luciano Detta was that he wore no orange jumpsuit. He was dressed in jeans and a black wife beater. She should have known that. After all, conjugal visits were to sustain relationships between an inmate and his family, so the situation should look as normal as possible. The second thing she noticed was the impassive look on his face. He was standing in the doorway that led to a small living room. His arms were folded in front of his large chest—much larger than she’d seen from pictures—and his legs spread wide, as if he was taking a stand. He didn’t look anything like the corporate guy in a ten-thousand-dollar suit she had familiarized herself with.

She gave him a tentative smile. “Hi, I’m Tess Gib—”

“Don’t give a f**k. Drop your pants. Turn around. Hands and face to the wall.”

“What?”

“Don’t pretend like this is a f*****g date. You’re not the usual crazy the twins send to me, or what I expected, but hey, whatever gets your motor running. It’s not like I got anything else to do. Now, remove your pants, and turn your ass to me.”

Oh.

It suddenly dawned on her that he actually expected the conjugal visit to be, well, conjugal. And judging by his words, it was a common occurrence as well. Not that she was surprised by that. He was hot, in a “bad boy with great arm muscles” kind of way. So, it was no wonder that apparently women threw themselves at him, even when he was a convict. Then again, there were women who would bang anything. Even serial killers had a prison following, after all.

“Um, there seems to be a misunderstanding,” she started.

He was on her in a heartbeat, pushing her up against the wall.

His breath was hot on her cheek. “What? Not what you expected from a convict? Did you picture this to be a twisted romantic story in your head? You thought I was going to make love to you?” He laughed, sounding bitter. “This will be nothing more than a quick f**k. You got me?”

Tess channeled her inner Princess Leia to push him away. When he noticed she wasn’t playing around, he let her go. The surprise on his face was almost comical.

“There will be no f**k, quick or otherwise,” she stated. Why were the men in her life always prone to a quick f**k? Whatever happened to the long, hot love making sessions she read about in romance novels? “I didn’t come here for that. Not with you, a dude I barely know, and definitely not in a place that’s probably swarming with bacteria. Yuck. Also, I have a boyfriend.” Trevor may not be able to make her lady parts tingle every time—or much at all—but they were committed nonetheless.

His eyes narrowed. “Who the f**k are you?”

“Now you’re just sounding like Hector. You could have just asked that question without dropping an f-bomb.”

Finally, a form of understanding dawned on his face. He folded his arms in front of his chest. “My brother sent you.”

“Nope. I’m here all by myself. See, my father is in trouble and I want you to help him out.”

His lopsided smirk told her he thought she was crazy. Sadly, that reaction was a common occurrence. “Sure. I’ll just break myself out and then go help you. Easy.”

She didn’t appreciate his sarcasm, but couldn’t really blame him, as she was explaining this poorly.

“I will provide you with documents that will get you out of here. In return, I want you to get Rufus out of the hands of a certain loan shark. Do we have a deal?”

He slowly looked her up and down, his eyes lingering a sec on her black thermal fingerless gloves. It didn’t seem as if he saw anything he liked. She really hated that dismissive look. She almost pointed out that he’d been ready to f**k her a minute ago, but again shut down the crazy in her head. It wasn’t like she actually wanted him to want her. Nope, there was only one thing she needed Luciano Detta to do—get rid of Mick the d**k.

“You are going to get me out of here? Sure, I’ll bite. Do you have magic beans we can plant and then go up a beanstalk? Or maybe you’ve brought a flying carpet with you?”

Asshole. “For a guy who’s been given a chance to get free, you are awfully sarcastic.”

He was silent for a beat. “You have a lot of balls. Supposedly offering me the one thing I want most. So, what is it that you really want? How do you even know about me?”

That was an easy one. “I’ve heard about you through Jazzy. She’s my bestie.” They may not be collegemates anymore, but they were still close.

Also, I’ve been trying to get you out forever.

But I can’t tell you why.

His eyes narrowed. She sure was talking to Mr. Suspicious here. “If you really know my sister-in-law, then you should know she would help you if you asked her. So, why come here?”

It was a valid question. She could have asked Jazzy for help. After all, she was married to a scary dude who had the means to put the screws to Mick.

“I don’t want to owe anyone, or involve Jazzy in a possible dangerous situation. I’m in this mess because my father owes money to some bad people. I kind of want to break that cycle. Also, us Gibsons might not have much, but we never owe anybody anything either, as my pops would say.”

He c****d a brow. “So, you’re here to ask me for my help to honor your dead grandfather’s way of life?”

“My grandfather is very much alive, thank you very much. In fact, I don’t know anyone more lively than him. Or more crazy, but that’s a story for another day.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question. Why me? How did you come up with this idea in the first place? Or stumble across evidence that could supposedly get me out of here?”

Excellent question that led to an even more interesting story. Sadly, it wasn’t one she was willing to share. Ever. There was no way she could explain to him that following her archnemesis’ trail had accidentally led her to Luciano Detta. Onyx wasn’t someone you could explain in an hour, or even a day. Tess had been following Onyx’s trail of destruction for over three years now. The black hat hacker had taken down head pieces of Big Pharma. He was also the reason Luciano Detta had gone down for tax fraud. It was only later that Tess had discovered the linking pin between him and Jazzy. Then she got curious.

It’s true what they say—curiosity kills the cat.

She had followed the breadcrumbs and discovered that Luciano Detta was innocent. Well, innocent of tax fraud, that is; who knew what else he had on his conscience. After all, the guy was filthy rich, and behind every big fortune, there was usually a crime. Still, she had poked and prodded, scourged the dark web, and before she knew it, she actually had a file on him that would, at the least, prove there was a reason for reasonable doubt.

“Like I said, I’m a friend of Jazzy’s. I know that she was um… less than thrilled when your brother first hunted her butt down. But things worked out great for her in the end. When she told me about you, this idea formed in my head.”

Which was partially true. Radical honesty didn’t mean she couldn’t omit a few truths, right? She inwardly winced when she saw her pops shake his head in disappointment.

He leaned forward. “And is this what you think will happen—things working out great for us in the end—if you, as you boldly put it, ‘set me free’?”

For a second, she was confused. She had made him an offer, at no cost or risk to him, which to her sounded like a pretty great deal, so why wasn’t he jumping at it? Then it dawned on her. He wanted to know if she would expect the same fairy tale ending Jazzy had.

“Dude, you are so far off of being my type. I’d rather date a Stormtrooper before you. This is just a business proposition, not a marriage proposal. I have zero expectations from you.” There. She sounded all cool, collected, and businesslike.

Feeling pretty proud of herself, she got up. Then honesty kicked in. “It hadn’t even crossed my mind to actually… keep you. Broody and bitter guys like you aren’t my thing. Also, I’m into blonds.”

Once again, his eyes narrowed. “Are you always like this? Speaking whatever’s on your mind?”

She nodded. “Yep. I was raised with radical honesty, look it up. You think I’m straightforward? You haven’t met my pops yet. He will blow your mind. And possibly blow up your house as well. Mind you, not on purpose—probably—but accidents sometimes happen when he’s reenacting the battle of Gettysburg or the D-Day landing. Anyway, I digress. There’s just one more thing. You can never ask me how I got the information that will prove your innocence. Do we have a deal?”

He didn’t make her wait this time. “You get me out of here, and I will give you whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, being my father out of that shark’s clutches and his debt taken care of,” she stipulated their deal once more. “You will make it a priority. The first thing you do once you get out. The first thing.”

“We have a deal.”