The Hand He Dealt

Excerpt From: The Hand He Dealt

A third red-backed card flipped over on the green baize. The ten of hearts.

“Twenty-four. Bust.”

With a scowl, the man pushed his chips to the centre of the table and got up to leave.

“Too bad,” Astra called after him. “Have a good night.”

It was four in the morning and the casino was closing. Around the room, the croupiers were clearing their tables and preparing to leave. Astra’s table was the first one closed—as the lights began to snap off she was already halfway to the door.

She passed another croupier, an attractive blonde, just unhooking her coat, her forehead smeared with blood, and she paused.

“Hey, Becky? What happened to you?”

The girl scowled. “Some jerk threw a glass at me. Think he just lost the expense account.”

“Ugh. Men.” Astra could taste the bitterness in her words. “They’re all pricks.”

The cold air hit her like a wall of ice. The skies were still pitch-dark. The night was clear, starlit, the edges of the full moon sharp. Streetlamps spilled pools of light across the sidewalk as Astra started the long walk home.

Thank God she didn’t have an early lecture.

Across the street, shouts and raucous laughter filled the air as the door of a neon-fronted bar opened and a group of twenty-something men fell out. Astra’s stomach twisted as a painful image forced its way into her mind.

Are you out tonight?

She dropped her head, fighting against the picture that haunted her. Oh God, she was beginning to hate this walk home. The surrounding dark engulfed her like a wave, weakening her, dragging her down.

Every time you do this, I lose another part of you, something I’m afraid to forget.

Her feet knew the way home as well as her mind did.

I can’t remember the scent of your hair.

It was amazing how quickly the sidewalk was passing.

I can’t remember the feeling of your breath on my neck.

It really wasn’t such a long walk after all.

She broke into a run, one hand over her face, tears choking her. Astra stumbled up the main road through the campus and into the Omega Zeta sorority house. She dashed up the stairs to the first floor, dived into the bathroom and locked herself in a cubicle.

It was stupid to feel this way. Stupid. But the aching feeling of loss was rarely absent these days.

She had only herself to blame. She had been too intelligent, too arrogant, to believe she could lose herself in the intense gaze of a pair of blue eyes. Too clever to recognise her own weakness in the face of a cheeky smile.

Fuck. The door had opened. She wiped her face and stepped out of the cubicle, her carefully-crafted neutral expression dissolving when she saw the girl turning away from her reflection.

“Sash.”

“Astra?” Sasha looked her up and down in concern. “Are you okay? What’s…”

“Don’t ask.”

Sasha nodded slowly and turned back to the mirror with an assumed casualness.

“Oh—by the way. News.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“It’s Ash.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“He knows.”

Astra caught herself in the middle of a third “Oh yeah?” and stepped behind Sasha. Their eyes met in the mirror.

“What?”

“Ash knows.”

Astra leant back against the row of sinks and ran her hand through her hair in shock.

“Ash… Fuck.”