The Game #22

Nine of diamonds, eight of diamond, three of clubs.  A set of eights.  Pretty good flop, all things considered, thought Edward.  He would be next to last to act, normally an excellent place to be, but Edward needed to get as many of the players out of the game as possible.  He and Ginger had the highest chip stacks, they should be the ones going after Darius.

“Eight hundred” said Tommy, firing out his bet.  Twenty-five percent of the pot; there was and even chance that Tommy had aces or kings, maybe another set.  Unless it was nines, Edward still had him beat.

The turn moved to Nelly, who promptly folded her hand.  She looked at her father, tears running down her face.  At twenty-three, she was by far the youngest player at the table.  She doesn’t deserve this shit, thought Edward.  The water was only a couple of feet deep in Robert’s cell, but it was slowly rising.

Bill slammed his chips down on the table, calling Tommy’s bet.  Edward tried to catch his eye, maybe get him to calm down a little, but the dealer was standing in between them.  Bill had to realize that if he went on tilt, it could cost Rebecca her life.  Edward was not sure about Bill’s cards, but it was a good guess that it was a medium hand.  He was probably planning to bluff, but with this many players, he chances of pulling it off wouldn’t be very good.

“Raise to fifteen hundred” said Darius sliding a stack of chips across the felt.

Damn! , thought Edward, Darius had picked up something on the flop.  The eight nine could give him a straight or flush draw.  Not good.  Edward feared that pushing Darius here could cause some of the others to increase their bet and deplete their chip stacks even further if they lost.  There was almost no water in Mary’s cell, but as much as he wanted to help everyone else out, he couldn’t do it at Mary’s expense.  His eights were still good, he was sure of that.  “Call fifteen hundred” he said.

Angela was next.  She looked at her son, Scott.  There was about a foot and a half of water in his cell.  Edward could tell she was trying to both read the others and calculate where the water might get to should she lose the hand.  After a few moments, she folded her cards.

Tommy called quickly, pushing another seven hundred dollars into the pot.  Edward put him on a pair of aces.  Tommy should know better than that, thought Edward.  Aces busted almost as often as they won.  Edward sighed and focused on the rest of the hand.  At this point, there wasn’t much he could do.  Besides, Tommy might get an ace on the turn or the river.

Bill called without comment, but Edward could tell he was still steaming mad.  The pot was closing in on ten thousand dollars now, with four players looking for the turn card.  Kenny burned the top card and flipped the next one onto the table.  Seven of clubs.  Bill sat up ever so slightly at the sight of the card.  Set or a straight? Edward wasn’t sure.  Bill’s tantrums often made him difficult to read and Edward suspected that was the method behind Bill’s madness.  Edward decided that it must be a set of sevens.  If Bill had been playing five six, he would have folded by now and if it was a ten jack, Bill would probably not have blown up like he did.  Sevens it was then.

“All in”, Tommy said, pushing the rest of his chips into the center of the table.  Edward couldn’t really blame him.  The five hundred or so chips he had left wouldn’t be enough to save Rose Marie’s life if he didn’t win this hand.

“Call” said Bill, placing the chips on the table without further comment.

Darius called as well, simply pushing his chips into the pot.  Edward thought for a minute.  Darius must be on a diamond flush draw and the seven missed him.  He’s holding out for the river.  Tommy was all in and there was only a little over a foot of water in Rebecca’s cell.  If Bill lost here, she would still be relatively safe.  Of course, Mary might not do so well if what Edward had planned didn’t work.


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