Beautiful Disaster (25 page)

He pulled my nightgown from his eyes and laughed at my desperate attempt to look presentable. I grabbed a black v-neck shirt and tugged it to its proper position, and then ran to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and ripping a brush through my hair. Travis walked up behind me, fully dressed and ready, and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“I'm a mess!” I said, frowning in the mirror.

“Do you even realize how beautiful you are?” he asked, kissing my neck.

I huffed, scampering into his room to slip on a pair of heels, and then took Travis's hand as he lead me to the door. I stopped, zipping up my black leather jacket and pulling my hair up into a tight bun in preparation for the blustery ride to his father's house.

“Calm down, Pigeon. It's just a bunch of guys sitting around a table.”

“This is the first time I'm meeting your dad and your brothers … all at the same time … and you want me to calm down?” I said, climbing onto his bike behind him.

He angled his neck, touching my cheek as he kissed me. “They're going to love you, just like I do.”

When we arrived, I let my hair fall down my back and ran my fingers through it a few times before Travis led me through the door.

“Holy Christ! It's the asshat!” one of the boys called.

Travis nodded once. He tried to look annoyed, but I could see that he was excited to see his brothers. The house was dated, with yellow and brown faded wallpaper and shag carpet in different shades of brown. We walked down a hall to a room straight ahead with the door wide open. Smoke wafted into the hallway, and his brothers and father were seated at a round wooden table with mismatched chairs.

“Hey, hey … watch the language around the young lady,” his dad said, the cigar in his mouth bobbing while he talked.

“Pidge, this is my dad, Jim Maddox. Dad, this is Pigeon.”

“Pigeon?” Jim asked, an amused expression on his face.

“Abby,” I said, shaking his hand.

Travis pointed to his brothers. “Trenton, Taylor, Tyler, and Thomas.”

They all nodded, and all but Thomas looked like older versions of Travis: buzz cuts, brown eyes, their T-shirts stretched over their bulging muscles, and covered in tattoos. Thomas wore a dress shirt and loosened tie, his eyes were hazel green, and his dark blonde hair was longer by about an inch.

“Does Abby have a last name?” Jim asked.

“Abernathy,” I nodded.

“It's nice to meet you, Abby,” Thomas said, smiling.

“Really nice,” Trent said, giving me an impish once-over. Jim slapped the back of his head and he yelped. “What'd I say?” he said, rubbing the back of his head.

“Have a seat, Abby. Watch us take Trav's money,” one of the twins said. I couldn't tell which was which; they were carbon copies of each other, even their tattoos matched.

The room was peppered with vintage pictures of poker games, pictures of poker legends posing with Jim and someone I assumed to be Travis's grandfather, and antique playing cards along the shelves.

“You knew Stu Ungar?” I asked, pointing to a dusty photo.

Jim's squinty eyes brightened. “You know who Stu Unger is?”

I nodded. “My dad's a fan, too.”

He stood up, pointing to the picture beside it. “And that's Doyle Brunson, there.”

I smiled. “My dad saw him play, once. He's unbelievable.”

“Trav's granddaddy was a professional … we take poker very seriously around here,” Jim smiled.

I sat between Travis and one of the twins while Trenton shuffled the deck with moderate skill. The boys put in their cash and Jim divvied out the chips.

Trenton raised an eyebrow. “You wanna play, Abby?”

I smiled politely and shook my head. “I don't think I should.”

“You don't know how?” Jim asked.

I couldn't hold back a smile. Jim looked so serious, almost paternal. I knew what answer he expected, and I hated to disappoint him.

Travis kissed my forehead. “Play … I'll teach you.”

“You should just kiss your money goodbye, now, Abby,” Thomas laughed.

I pressed my lips together and dug into my purse, pulling out two fifties. I held them out to Jim and waited patiently as he traded them for chips. Trenton's mouth tightened into a smug smile, but I ignored him.

“I have faith in Travis's teaching skills,” I said.

One of the twins clapped his hands together. “Hells yeah! I'm going to get rich tonight!”

“Let's start small this time,” Jim said, throwing in a five-dollar chip.

Trenton dealt, and Travis fanned out my hand for me. “Have you ever played cards?”

“It's been a while,” I nodded.

“Go Fish doesn't count, Pollyanna,” Trenton said, looking at his cards.

“Shut your hole, Trent,” Travis said, glancing up at his brother before looking back down to my hand. “You're shooting for higher cards, consecutive numbers, and if you're really lucky, in the same suit.”

The first hand, Travis looked at my cards and I looked at his. I mainly nodded and smiled, playing when I was told. Both Travis and I lost, and my chips had dwindled by the end of the first round.

After Thomas dealt to begin the second round, I wouldn't let Travis see my cards. “I think I've got this,” I said.

“You sure?” he asked.

“I'm sure, baby,” I said.

Three hands later, I had won back my chips and annihilated the stacked chips of the others with a pair of aces, a straight, and the high card.

“Bullshit!” Trenton whined. “Beginner's luck sucks!”

“You've got a fast learner, Trav,” Jim said, moving his mouth around his cigar.

Travis swigged his beer. “You're makin' me proud, Pigeon!” His eyes were bright with excitement, and his smile was different than I'd ever seen before.

“Thanks.”

“Those that cannot do, teach,” Thomas said, smirking.

“Very funny, asshole,” Travis murmured.

Four hands later, I tipped back the last of my beer and narrowed my eyes at the only man at the table that hadn't folded. “The action's on you, Taylor. You gonna be a baby or you going to put in like a man?”

“Fuck it,” he said, throwing the last of his chips in.

Travis looked at me, his eyes animated. It reminded me of the expressions of those watching his fights.

“Whatdya got, Pigeon?”

“Taylor?” I prompted.

A wide grin spread across his face. “Flush!” he smiled, spreading his cards face-up on the table.

Five pairs of eyes turned to me. I scanned the table and then slammed my cards down. “Read 'em and weep, boys! Aces and eights!” I said, giggling.

“A full house? What the fuck?” Trent cried.

“Sorry. I've always wanted to say that,” I said, pulling in my chips.

Thomas' eyes narrowed. “This isn't just beginner's luck. She plays.”

Travis eyed Thomas for a moment and then looked to me. “Have you played before, Pidge?”

I pressed my lips together and shrugged, displaying my best innocent smile. Travis's head fell back, bursting into a barrage of laughter. He tried to speak but couldn't and then hit the table with his fist.

“Your girlfriend just fucking hustled us!” Taylor said, pointing in my direction.

“NO FUCKING WAY!” Trenton wailed, standing up.

“Good plan, Travis. Bring a card shark to poker night,” Jim said, winking at me.

“I didn't know!” he said, shaking his head.

“Bullshit,” Thomas said, eyeing me.

“I didn't!” he said through his laughter.

“I hate to say it, Bro. But I think I just fell in love with your girl,” Tyler said.

“Hey, now,” Travis said, his smile quickly fading into a grimace.

“That's it. I was going easy on you, Abby, but I'm winning my money back, now,” Trenton warned.

Travis sat out for the last few rounds, watching his brothers try their hardest to regain their money. Hand after hand, I pulled in their chips, and hand after hand, Thomas watched me more closely. Every time I laid my cards down Travis and Jim laughed, Taylor cursed, Tyler proclaimed his undying love for me, and Trent threw a full-blown tantrum.

I cashed in my chips and gave them all one hundred dollars once we settled into the living room.
Jim refused, but the brothers accepted with gratitude. Travis grabbed my hand and we walked to the door.

I could see he was unhappy, so I squeezed his fingers in mine. “What's wrong?”

“You just gave away four hundred bucks, Pidge!” Travis frowned.

“If this was poker night at Sig Tau, I would have kept it. I can't rob your brothers the first time I meet them.”

“They would have kept your money!” he said.

“And I wouldn't have lost a second of sleep over it, either,” Taylor said.

Thomas stared at me in silence from the corner of the room.

“Why do you keep starin' at my girl, Tommy?”

“What did you say your last name was?” Thomas asked.

I shifted my weight nervously. My mind raced for something witty or sarcastic to say to deflect the question. I picked at my nails instead, silently cursing myself. I should have known better than to win all those hands. Thomas knew. I could see it in his eyes.

Travis, noticing my unease, turned to his brother and put his arm around my waist. I wasn't sure if he was doing it in protective reaction, or he was bracing himself for what his brother might say.

Travis shifted, visibly uncomfortable with his brother's questioning. “It's Abernathy. What of it?”

“I can see why you didn't put it together before tonight, Trav, but now you don't have an excuse,” Thomas said, smug.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Travis asked.

“Are you related to Mick Abernathy by any chance?” Thomas asked.

All heads turned in my direction and I nervously raked my hair back with my fingers. “How do you know Mick?”

Travis angled his head to look into my eyes. “He's only one of the best poker players that ever lived. Do you know him?”

I winced, knowing I had finally been cornered into telling the truth. “He's my father.”

The entire room exploded.

“NO FUCKING WAY!”

“I KNEW IT!”

“WE JUST PLAYED MICK ABERNATHY'S DAUGHTER!”

“MICK ABERNATHY? HOLY SHIT!”

Thomas, Jim, and Travis were the only ones not shouting. “I told you guys I shouldn't play,” I said.

“If you would have mentioned you were Mick Abernathy's daughter, I think we would have taken you more seriously,” Thomas said.

I peered over at Travis, who stared at me in awe. “You're Lucky Thirteen?” he asked, his eyes a bit hazy.

Trenton stood and pointed at me, his mouth opened wide. “Lucky Thirteen is in our house! No way! I don't fucking believe it!”

“That was the nickname the papers gave me. And the story wasn't exactly accurate,” I said, fidgeting.

“I need to get Abby home, guys,” Travis said, still staring at me.

Jim peered at me over his glasses. “Why wasn't it accurate?”

“I didn't take my dad's luck. I mean, how ridiculous,” I chuckled, twisting my hair nervously around my finger.

Thomas shook his head. “No, Mick gave that interview. He said at midnight on your thirteenth birthday his luck ran dry.”

“And yours picked up,” Travis added.

“You were raised by mobsters!” Trent said, smiling with excitement.

“Uh … no,” I laughed once. “They didn't raise me. They were just … around a lot.”

“That was a damn shame, Mick running your name through the mud like that in all the papers. You were just a kid,” Jim said, shaking his head.

“If anything it was beginner's luck,” I said, desperately trying to hide my humiliation.

“You were taught by Mick Abernathy,” Jim said, shaking his head in awe. “You were playing pros, and winning, at thirteen years old for Christ's sakes.” He looked at Travis and smiled. “Don't bet against her, son. She doesn't lose.”

Travis looked at me, then, his expression still shocked and disoriented. “Uh … we gotta go, Dad. Bye, guys.”

The deep, excited chatter of Travis's family faded as he pulled me out the door and to his bike. I twisted my hair into a bun and zipped up my coat, waiting for him to speak. He climbed onto his bike without a word, and I straddled the seat behind him.

I was sure he felt that I hadn't been honest with him, and he was probably embarrassed that he found out about such an important part of my life the same time his family had. I expected a huge argument
when we returned to his apartment, and I went over a dozen different apologies in my head before we reached the front door.

He led me down the hall by my hand, and then helped me with my coat.

I pulled at the caramel knot on the crown of my head, and my hair fell past my shoulders in thick waves. “I know you're mad,” I said, unable to look him in the eyes. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but it's not something I talk about.”

“Mad at you?” he said. “I am so turned on I can't see straight. You just robbed my asshole brothers of their money without batting an eyelash, you have achieved legend status with my father, and I know for a fact that you purposely lost that bet we made before my fight.”

“I wouldn't say that …”

He lifted his chin. “Did you think you were going to win?”

“Well … no, not exactly,” I said, pulling off my heels.

Travis smiled. “So you wanted to be here with me. I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

“How are you not mad right now?” I asked, tossing my shoes to the closet.

He sighed and nodded. “That's pretty big, Pidge. You should have told me. But I understand why you didn't. You came here to get away from all of that. It's like the sky opened up … everything makes sense, now.”