Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.
Chapter 1: Poker Face
The air smelled of desperation and sweat. The only sounds that could be heard were the controlled breaths of the three players left at the table and rhythmic click clacking of clay chips against the felt table cloth.
Edward Cullen leaned back against his chair while his right hand smoothly shuffled a poker chip back and forth across his knuckles. To the rest of his opponents, he looked calm, almost to the point of boredom; but in reality, he was anything but. His stomach was tied up in knots and he was so nervous that he felt like vomiting. However, Texas Hold 'Em was not only a game of skill but also of deception. He couldn't show any weakness at the table. It was almost like swimming in shark infested waters. Just the smell of blood would cause one of the sharks to pounce.
He surreptitiously watched the balding fat man to his left puff on his cigar, its smoke curling seductively in the air. He knew the man was wasting time. Edward knew this guy was good. So him looking like he was thinking was all for show. He'd come across him several times in the underground circles that he played in. He'd even seen him one or two times at the casinos. He knew that the only thing that stood between him and the $25,000 pot was this portly guido.
He glanced at the Asian woman across from him play with the red lacquer on her long fingernails. He knew that she had to be nervous of the possible outcome of this play. After all, she'd come this far and if she was to be knocked out, it would most definitely hurt. After all, it was a $2,500 buy in and she'd gone all in.
"C'mon Frank, it's not rocket science," the dealer cajoled, hoping to get the game moving along.
Frank took a puff of his cigar, blowing the smoke out in ringlets. "Fine. I raise you five hundred."
Edward felt everyone's eyes turn to him. "I call," he said tossing his chips in.
The dealer laid down the river. The community cards now consisted of a ten of hearts, an eight of spades, a two of hearts, a five of clubs, and finally an eight of diamonds.
"Fuck!" The Asian woman swore, throwing her cards face up on the table. "Stupid fucking hand. Shit." She had missed her flush.
"Well, gentlemen. It looks like it's down to just the two of you," said the dealer his eyebrow rising in question.
Edward sat up and shuffled his stack of chips. He resisted the urge to check on his cards knowing that it would only tell his fear. Mentally, he did his calculations, thinking about the possible hands based on the community cards laid out on the table.
As he stared at his fingers, his mind absently wandered to the circumstances that led up to this point.
He owed some money to a very bad man. Although, if Edward were truly honest with himself, he'd admit that he was already fucked even before he'd crossed paths with Aro Dubranovich.
It seemed so long ago but only two years before, he'd been in the middle of his residency at Seattle General trying to follow in his father's footsteps. It all started out harmless enough. One of his colleagues had invited him to a private poker game in his home. Up until then, Edward had only dabbled in online poker, too afraid to play with real people, much preferring the faceless opponents he found online. So, he'd been surprised when at the end of that night he came home $200 richer. He'd found that he had a real knack at keeping his emotions in check. Taking something that his father and medical school had taught him (about remaining professionally objective) and turning it into something that could make him a fast buck. From then on, he'd developed a thirst, an itch that needed to be scratched. He'd spend the precious little time he had off from work sitting for hours in poker rooms at the local casinos. At first, it was only one night a week. Then one night became two then three until he was calling in sick for every other shift. Soon enough, his attending had put him on notice. It wasn't long until his father caught wind of it and had called him out on his unprofessional behaviour. Unfortunately, by then it was too late. Edward was too caught up in the game, not caring much for anything other than winning the next pot. He would win some games but he'd lose even more. Pretty soon, he was grinding. He'd had to drop out of the residency program and was having to live off of his winnings, which wasn't much at all. Edward soon became so desperate that he was forced lie to his parents in order to beg for money. Money that he'd use to bankroll his next game.
Edward took a deep breath and mentally straightened himself out shaking off his musings. Looking once more at the community cards, he pushed the four stacks of clay chips in front of him.
"I'm all in," he gushed, hoping to hell that his voice didn't just break.
Frank coughed and stubbed out his cigar on the ashtray next to him. "Pretty gutsy move, kid." He took a peek at his pair of cards before calling Edward's bet. "Let's see them."
Edward slowly flipped open his cards. A pair of twos. "Four of a kind."
Frank began to laugh. It quickly turned to a cough and a wheeze. Grabbing at his chest, he shook his head before tossing his cards face down into the discard pile.
"I can't fucking believe you won with a pair of fucking twos," Frank sneered, before reaching a hand to the inside of his jacket.
Within less than a second, there were four guns pointed straight at him including one from the dealer.
"Woah, woah, woah," Frank gasped, putting his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. "I was just grabbing a cigar."
When the guns were finally lowered, Edward let out the breath he'd been holding and ran a shaking hand through his already dishevelled hair.
"Eddie, I suggest you take your money and go," the dealer suggested to which Edward could only agree too eagerly.
He made his way to the cash window, nervously smiling at the dark haired woman that sat behind the glass.
"Congratulations," she said as she pushed twenty five stacks of $100 bills towards him.
"Th-thanks," Edward stammered, looking at the stacks and wondering how the hell he was going to get it home.
The woman noticed his bewildered expression. "Don't you have anything to put this in?" She asked.
Edward shook his head causing the woman to sigh. "Amateurs," she muttered, disappearing beneath the counter as she reached for something below her.
"Here," she shoved an empty black duffel bag through the hole in the glass. "Put it in here."
Edward stared at the money, then at the bag, before looking back at the woman. She simply rolled her eyes at his ineptitude.
"Just take it," she sighed. "Unless you prefer to haul that cash inside your jacket."
That snapped Edward into action. "Sorry. Thanks a lot." He quickly shoved the bills into the bag before pulling the zipper shut. He shifted the bag onto his right hand before making his way down the dimly lit hallway, the only light coming from a bare bulb hanging from the plaster ceiling. Climbing the stairwell, he pushed the heavy metal door open and was greeted by the quiet stillness of a pre-dawn Seattle street. He couldn't help the sigh of relief that passed between his lips.
It had been a long day followed by an even longer night. He'd fielded phone calls from both his father and his former chief resident. Both had exhausted him. When he'd heard of the poker tournament being held in the basement of an old storefront near Chinatown he felt a small sense of relief. It had been almost a week since he'd lost the money that Aro had bankrolled him. Seven days that the juice had been running on the $10,000. He was glad that he would finally be able to get Aro off of his back. He'd promised himself that this would be it. This would be the last time that he would play. He'd pay Aro back and clean up his life. Perhaps he could get back into the residency program and take the licensing exam. Actually make his parents proud instead of the embarrassment he now caused them.
Looking up, he spotted a 24 hour cafe up the block. He could really use a coffee. Playing for eight hours straight took a lot out of a person. Maybe some caffeine and a greasy breakfast would help him relax his frayed nerves.
The smell of coffee and bacon greeted him as soon as he walked into the restaurant. He picked a booth by the window, setting his bag full of money beside him.
"Hey there, can I get you a coffee?" a female voice greeted.
Edward looked up and caught sight of a voluptuous woman with strawberry blonde hair looking at him questioningly. He was so caught up by her good looks that he missed the carafe of hot brown liquid that she held in her hand.
"Sir?" She asked again, her blue eyes looking down on the downturned cup and saucer that sat on the Formica table in front of him.
Edward finally noticed the direction of her gaze and hurriedly flipped the cup over. "Oh yeah, coffee, please."
She placed a well worn plastic covered menu in front of him.
"I'll give you a sec to decide on your order," with a smile and a slight sway of hips, she was gone.
Edward watched her walk away before rubbing a hand down his face. He picked up his steaming mug of black coffee and took a tentative sip. It tasted like burnt rubber but it was hot. His eyes scanned the cafe noticing the few patrons that occupied the place at this ungodly early hour. Other than a couple of men that looked like they were truckers and a lady that looked like she pushed around a shopping cart all day and talked to invisible people, he was the only other person fully awake at this time of the night.
"Have you decided on what you wanted?"
Edward wasn't sure but he might have heard a double meaning in the waitress' question. His eyes roamed up her body lingering a little longer on her breasts before he met her eyes. A hint of amusement greeted him there.
"Yeah," he answered, licking his lower lip before raising an eyebrow at her. "I'll have the breakfast special."
She rolled her eyes and laughed, grabbing the menu off of his proffered hand. "One breakfast special coming right up."
She sauntered away from the table causing Edward's eyes to zero in on her behind. He felt the stirring in his groin and wondered if maybe a little quickie would help him relax.
He continued flirting with her throughout his meal – exchanging friendly quips and double entendres. Finally, when it came time for his bill, she leaned down and whispered, "I get off in five minutes. Meet me in the parking lot."
Edward couldn't hide the smirk that threatened to erupt across his face. He threw a few crumpled bills on the table before grabbing his duffel bag and exiting the cafe.
He lounged against the brick wall just off to the side of the cafe as he waited for the waitress. When she finally walked out, he noticed that she'd changed out of her uniform and into a pair of form fitting jeans and a heavy, black sweater. Her hair, which had previously been held back in a low ponytail was now draped seductively over left shoulder.
She walked up to him, stood on her toes and pressed her eager lips against his in an open-mouthed kiss.
Edward was pleasantly surprised at her forwardness. He buried his hand through her hair, angling her neck to deepen the kiss.
She swept her tongue across his lower lip before pulling back slightly. "I'm Tanya," she said breathlessly.
Edward, still reeling from her passionate kiss, smiled. "Hi Tanya. I'm Edward."
Tanya pressed her palm flat against his muscular chest. "Well, Edward what do you say you come to my place and we get to know each other a little better?"
The corner of his lip lifted up into a crooked smile. "Lead the way," he said holding her proffered hand.
Twenty minutes later, they found themselves stumbling through Tanya's dark apartment. Edward moaned as Tanya raked her fingernails along his abs, his desire shooting straight through to his groin.
"Shh, keep it down... I don't want to wake up my roommate," she said between kisses.
"Whatever you say, T," Edward replied, too horny to really be paying attention to what she was saying. He grabbed her sweater, quickly pulling it over her head. Not long after, they both found themselves naked and writhing around on her bed.
Edward smiled to himself as Tanya licked her way down his happy trail.
Today was going to be an awesome day.
Edward woke up groggy and disoriented. He stretched his arms above him as a yawn escaped his lips. As his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, he clued in to the fact that he wasn't at home. As his memory came back to him, a satisfied smile spread across his lips. However, as he felt along the space beside him, he realized that he was alone.
Where the hell was Tanya?
His eyes scanned the room spotting the clock that sat on the dresser against the wall. The bright red numbers read 4:30 causing Edward to scramble out of bed, tossing the blanket to his feet.
Cursing softly, he realized that he'd slept the day away. He looked around the room and spotted his clothes pulling it on quickly. As he grabbed his sneakers to slip them on, he had a feeling that he was forgetting something. He thought about the events of last night as he slipped his jacket on before making his way to the front door.
He went to play poker...
...then gone to have breakfast...
...came home with Tanya...
He ran his fingers through his dishevelled hair trying to figure out what he was missing.
The bag! He was missing the bag of money he'd been carrying around all night!
He remembered having it with him when he left the restaurant, so where the hell could it be?
He let go of the doorknob just as he was about to open the front door. He ran back to the bedroom and searched high and low for the non-descript duffel bag. When he couldn't find it in the bedroom, he ran to the living room and began tossing couch cushions and opening cabinet doors in his search. Finally, he came to the conclusion that it was nowhere to be found.
"FUCK!" He shouted, running his hand through his hair. He smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead as he paced and thought about where the missing bag of money could be. Suddenly, he stopped and realized that he must have left it in Tanya's car this morning when he'd come home with her. He quickly ran outside, looking around for the blue Ford Tempo. When he didn't see it, he walked down the block until he luckily found a cab.
Tanya must have gone to work, Edward thought or at least that's what he was hoping for. After all, it was pretty late in the afternoon. Edward crossed his fingers as the taxi pulled to a stop in front of the cafe he'd been sitting in just a few hours before. He tossed a twenty dollar bill at the driver and stepped out of the cab, shutting the door behind him.
Walking into the cafe, he noticed how different the place looked from this morning. Instead of the insomniac's clubhouse it had been this morning, the place was now bustling with activity – from men in suits to teenagers goofing around. Edward scanned the faces of the people working behind the counter. The head of strawberry, blonde hair that he was looking for was nowhere to be found. Striding up to the counter, he paused in front of the burly, dark haired man with the pinup girl tattooed on his arm.
"Is Tanya working today?" He asked, a cocky smile masking the desperation behind his eyes.
The man looked him up and down before crossing his arms across his heavy chest. "What's it to you?" The man rudely countered.
Edward tried hard to hide his irritation. "I'm her cousin, Joe. She told me to meet her here after her shift," he lied.
The man's posture eased up a bit though he still held back some of his initial distrust. "Huh, cousin, you say. Well, your cousin up and quit a couple of hours ago, leaving me short a waitress for tonight's dinner shift."
"Oh," Edward said stunned. He quickly recovered and tried to look sympathetic. "I'm sorry about that. Sometimes Tanya can be a little dramatic," he shrugged his shoulders.
"Yeah, well, it was still pretty shitty of her to leave me high and dry," the man said as he proceeded to wipe down the counter.
Edward slowly backed away. "I'll just go check her apartment. Maybe she's gone home." He pivoted and pushed the door open roughly stepping into the now drizzly Seattle afternoon. Just as he passed by the side alley a hand grabbed him by the collar of his jacket causing him to stumble. When he finally caught his balance the first thing he saw was a pair of shiny, alligator skinned loafers. Those loafers where attached to a shiny aubergine suit. And that suit belonged to none other than Aro Dubranovich.
"Hello Edvard," Aro greeted in his thick Slavic accent as he fingered the heavy gold chain around his neck. "How you say...long time no see."
Edward swallowed before plastering a phony smile on his face. "Aro, my good man. How the hell have you been?"
Aro's smile disappeared from his face. His murky gray eyes clouded over with anger. "Time to get down to business, yah? Where fuck is my money?" He asked stepping a little closer to Edward.
Edward bristled, ready to defend himself. However, as soon as that thought crossed his mind, the hand holding his collar tightened effectively restraining him.
"I told you I'd get it to you," Edward placated. "It's just taking a little longer than I thought."
Aro nodded his head and the burly man standing beside him pulled his fist back before slamming it into Edward's stomach.
"Fuck," Edward swore as he doubled over in pain.
"Tsk, tsk," Aro shook his head leaning down so that he was face to face with Edward. "Lucky for you I'm patient man. I give you five more days to get money. If not," he paused and looked towards his two goons.
"Felix and Demetri will pay you visit and I assure you, those beautiful fingers of yours will no longer be attached to your hands. Do we have understanding?"
Edward nodded fervently.
"Good," Aro smiled as he straightened his posture. "Just remember, juice is running. Oh and so you don't forget," his eyes flickered once again to Felix.
Before Edward could turn his head, his jaw was met with a hard fist, before the hand that had been holding on to his collar released, dropping him to the cold, wet pavement.
He watched the three men walk away, tasting the metallic flavour of blood on his tongue. His finger automatically touched his lip unsurprised to see the vibrant red that smeared his digit.
Pulling himself up, he swore to God and all things holy that if he found Tanya and that bag of money, he would never touch a deck of cards ever again.