I started around the bar and headed that direction.
Tommy laughed. “If you don’t know how to play, you could sit down here,”—he patted his lap— “and I could teach you.”
“I know how to—”
I grasped ahold of Tommy’s arm and yanked it back.
Brooke took a step away from his grasp.
Tommy pulled back, free hand balled to a fist. His eyes shot to mine, and he stopped jerking. His mouth opened to speak.
“We’ve talked about this before,” I said. “Keep your hands to yourself in my bar, Tommy.”
He tried to yank it from my grasp again. “I was just—”
“I don’t give a shit.” My jaw hardened. “Touch her again, and I’ll bite your hand off and make you watch me eat it.”
His gaze narrowed as he ripped with enough strength to escape my hold. He turned back to Brooke. “You want to play or not?”
“I’ll play.” Brooke glanced at the table. “But if memory serves, it’s four players. One of you needs to move.”
She just bet herself in this game, and she was willing to let Tommy’s friend be her partner? Like he wouldn’t lose intentionally so Tommy could be the piece of shit he was?
Granted, Brooke seemed smart enough not to walk out of this bar with him. But she still needed a partner who wasn’t biased.
“Two of you need to move,” I said.
The guy on the left scoffed. “I’m not—”
“Or I can toss you out,” I said. “Your choice.”
His expression told me he didn’t appreciate my tone. But I didn’t care. The supernatural world was underground—there weren’t many spots where people like us could gather and be ourselves. Any places like mine stayed in business.
Spades would still get plenty of customers if this whole table stopped showing.
The metal chair scraped against the concrete as he slid it back, expression still cold.
I looked at Brooke. “You any good?”
She shrugged off her jacket. “I was once upon a time.”
* * *
Spades wasn’t a difficult card game.
The luck of the hand mattered to an extent. Spades was the name because it was the most powerful suit in the deck. A two of spades beat an ace of any other suit.
The trick to winning a game of Spades was working in perfect sync with your partner. Brooke and I didn’t know one another, but we were the only people in this game who weren’t drunk, and that counted for something.
As Tommy tossed the first card to Brooke, I held my open palm in his direction. “You didn’t let me cut the deck.”
“You saw me shuffle—”
“And I saw you glance at the bottom card.” Which was probably a high card, hence why he hadn’t offered. He’d land on himself with the last one, and it’d be his. “Let me cut.”
His jaw tightened as he slid the card he’d just passed Brooke into the center of the stack. He smacked the deck to the table before me.
I lifted half the cards off, set it to the nicked up wooden table, and plopped the other half on top. I slid it his way.