#luck be a lady | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artificialqueens · 1 year

Text

Luck Be A Lady, Chapter Two (Anetra x Sasha) - Athena2

Summary: Anetra is forced to make a dangerous decision about her job.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the amazing feedback on chapter one!! It’s really blown me away and I appreciate it so much. I hope you enjoy this one too!! Thank you to Writ for betaing!!

Anetra barely sleeps for the whole week. She rolls from one side to the other, the red numbers on her alarm clock following her with every toss and turn.

She’s been doing this job for five years. She’s brought three people into the basement herself, has seen the others bring more. She’s always known it’s not right, exactly. But it was easier when the gambler was a guaranteed cheater composed of an ego and money; unlike Sasha, who hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s never gotten close to any of them, never known anything beyond their name and cheating methods. If you don’t know, you don’t have to care. If you don’t care, you do the job and stay safe.

But she knows Sasha.

In three days, she’s become closer to Sasha than she’s been to anyone in five years. Maybe even longer. She knows Sasha. She knows that she’ll run to the dance floor the instant she hears a Beyoncé song, but that she favors slow, sad songs when she’s alone. She knows that her house in California will have a pool and a big yard where she can plant a garden. And she let Sasha know her too, even if the details were just the barest traces of what she can share.

It’s shitty, she knows. To only suddenly care about what she’s done when she cares about someone involved in it. But for better or worse, it’s the situation she’s in. Does she just put her walls up, bring Sasha to the basement, and safely continue like she’s been doing? Or does she dangerously help Sasha, and maybe help herself in the process—try and get out of this job?

She’s still awake when the sun rises.

—-

Anetra is still rubbing sleep from her eyes when she steps into the basement Thursday night.

“She just walked in,” Tom says.

Anetra’s heart nearly stops, because she knows who Tom means. She must have come early to spend time here before the tournament Saturday night.

“She’s a pretty thing,” Tom says, with all the sharpness of a hunter watching prey. It makes Anetra’s fist twitch, wanting to hit him for talking about Sasha that way. “I just hope you don’t get any…ideas. That won’t end well.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out one of his rings, pretending to polish it against the lapel of his suit. It’s meant to look casual, but it’s a warning as pointed as a sword.

She has to do it tonight, or she’ll lose everything.

—–

If it were any other day, Anetra would be running over the casino’s golden floors to meet Sasha. Instead, she shuffles her feet, delaying every second before she has to ruin Sasha’s world and destroy her.

Sasha’s face lights up with a smile when she sees Anetra, and for the first time, Anetra takes a while to return it. “Hey, Sasha.”

“Hey. I came early, hoping you’d be here,” she says, and there’s a hint of a blush in her cheeks. “I thought maybe we could get dinner?”

Anetra couldn’t have gotten a better opening for things herself. But Sasha is so sincere, so hopeful, that Anetra hesitates before taking it.

“Can I show you something first?” Anetra asks, the words straining her throat.

“What is it?”

“There’s this exclusive poker and blackjack lounge in the basement,” Anetra says, voice hushed. Like it’s some prized secret she’s letting Sasha in on. She hates herself for it. “It’s for top players only, it has all kinds of perks you can’t get in the regular casino. Might even be a chance to size up the competition before the tournament.”

“Can you go too?”

It nearly breaks Anetra’s resolve. Of all the things she expected, she never thought Sasha would be concerned about whether Anetra could come with her. That she’d want Anetra there with her in the first place.

Anetra nods.

“Then let’s go. Just for a bit.”

“Okay.”

Anetra leads Sasha to the nearest elevator, noticing one of the other team members watching from around the corner. Tom wanted to have extra eyes on her, make sure the job is carried out.

Anetra’s chest tightens as she flips up the access panel under the rows of elevator floor buttons. There’s one marked B, and it only works when Anetra presses her carved ring into its imprint.

“Why do you have that ring?” Sasha asks.

Anetra doesn’t answer.

The elevator descends.

“Where are you taking me?” Sasha isn’t a panicker. She’s gone through tense games and kept her cool the entire time. But there’s a hint of suspicion in her voice, and the fingers twirling through her ponytail are growing faster, more frantic. She’s not just some cheating client; she did nothing to deserve this beyond being too good at some stupid game. She’s Sasha, and Anetra knows her. And now that she knows, she’s started to care.

Anetra can’t do this.

Sasha trusts her, and likes her, and cares about her more than anyone has in a long time. She doesn’t deserve this. She’s just the breaking point, the final crack that shatters a glass at long last, and Anetra can’t do this anymore. She can’t keep handing people over to Tom and pretending she doesn’t care. She can’t stay trapped in this job, this life.

Anetra sighs. She’s in too deep now, in a stream with water reaching her head. Tom is waiting for her to throw Sasha at his feet, a lamb to the lion, and he has the entire team watching to make sure she does. There’s no time for an escape plan, and they’re probably guarding the exits. There’s only time to get Sasha somewhere safe, before Tom and his team can get her.

Anetra turns to Sasha, meeting her concerned eyes. “I don’t have time to explain, but you’re in danger.”

“What do you—”

“They’re gonna bring you to the basement. You’ve won too much money, the casino doesn’t—they don’t allow that.” Anetra’s rambling, and she yanks her ring away, instead typing in a code she’s only used once. Anetra only knows about it because another guard told her; the code leads to a secret floor from the casino’s old days, with no surveillance. It was just a small hallway with an old dumbwaiter, dusty and long out of service. It’s just as dusty now, as Anetra leads Sasha to it. It’s smaller than she remembered, but she’s seen Sasha dance, she knows how flexible she is.

“Get in here,” Anetra says, prying the doors open with a creak.

Sasha looks at it warily, but steels herself and climbs in.

“Look, if you wait here, you might be able to get out if you move fast. They’re probably guarding the exits, but they should be distracted soon.” Distracted beating the shit out of me, she thinks but doesn’t say.

But Sasha shakes her head. “I don’t know this place like you. I have no idea how to get out if the exits are blocked.” Her jaw tightens. “And I’m not leaving you. You’re gonna need a way out too.”

“But–”

“I’ll get us a ride,” Sasha says. She takes Anetra’s hand. “Do you trust me?”

Anetra hesitates. It’s been a long time since she’s trusted anyone. But she could do worse than Sasha, and there’s not really a choice now. She nods.

“Okay, I’ll get us a ride, and you…do whatever you need to do and come back, okay?”

It sounds good, but the truth is, Anetra doesn’t know what she needs to do. Bringing Sasha here was only the barest hint of a plan, a split-second plan that’s about to crash and burn even faster. Does Anetra hide with her and wait things out? But at least one of the security team knows about this floor, and Tom won’t rest until they’re both—because Anetra is surely a target now too—in his hands. He’ll have every exit guarded, every door watched for when they’re forced to show themselves. She can take down maybe half the security team, one-on-one, if she were to fight their way out. But if Tom sends the whole team at once, she won’t be able to.

Or she goes to the basement herself. Maybe she confesses to getting too close to Sasha, in the hopes Tom will take mercy on her for turning herself in. No, he probably won’t do that. But maybe if she turns herself in, he’ll let Sasha go. Anetra’s no stranger to pain, she’ll get through whatever beating he gives her. She won’t ever be able to come back, but at least she would be alive.

If he leaves her alive.

“Hey.” There’s a warm touch on the back of her hand, a thumb rubbing gentle circles. It calms the thoughts racing through Anetra’s head, and she takes her first breath in what seems like hours. “If this is the best plan we have, we’ll do this, okay? I’ll wait for you to come back.”

Anetra nods shakily. “On the seventh floor, behind the aquarium, there’s a staircase that leads to a private maintenance entrance. If I’m not back by midnight, you should be able to pick the lock and get out.”

“Okay,” Sasha says. She’s an expert at bluffing when it comes to poker; it’s rare, and usually pure luck, that someone catches her in it. But Anetra can’t shake the feeling that she’s bluffing here, that she’s secretly working on something else.

But Anetra can’t do anything about that now. She shakes the thought away, runs back to the elevator, and heads to the seventh floor. She wants to draw the guards away from there, so Sasha can get out later. The door opens, and two members of the team stare at her. Tom knew, then. He knew she was wavering. He probably has someone at every elevator.

“It’ll be better if you cooperate,” the first one tells her, almost sympathetic. They both know what’s about to happen.

It’s two against one, if she wants to take them on. And she’s tempted; she really is. But the odds are against her, and even if she does succeed, it’ll take a while. By that time, Tom will have gotten suspicious at what’s taken so long and send more people to get her, and she’ll have wasted a lot of energy. No, it’s better to go with them, and save her energy and strength for Tom.

She lets them lead her into the elevator. The number at the top grows lower and lower, counting down to her doom, her heart dropping with each floor. It finally opens into the basement, the mouth of the beast, and one of them shoves her into Tom’s private area.

The stone floor is cold and unforgiving, and she shivers when dress shoes click against it.

“Leave us,” Tom tells them, and it’s a bad sign. He wants to destroy her and he wants to do it privately, personally.

He doesn’t use guns—too noisy, too messy. But it’s not much of a mercy when she looks up to see a ring hanging from each finger.

He hauls her up by the shoulder, and being on this end of things makes her realize just how big he is. He completely blocks her view of anything beyond his massive shoulders. It’s like standing in front of a dragon, and her heart is pounding.

“I had one rule for you. And you broke it.”

“Let Sasha go and you can have me.”

“I already have you,” he says, and Anetra realizes how pointless the offer was. The most important rule of bargaining is to offer the person something they want and don’t have. She’s already in his hands.

His first punch comes in a blink, her head flying back. One of his rings slices above her left eye, cutting down to her eyebrow in a lightning-strike of pain. Blood pours from it, blurring her vision with red streaks.

She slams into the floor like a ragdoll, gasping for air. Before she can even get one breath in, something crashes into her ribs. She knows it’s a tire iron—it’s been used on others before. She draws her knees to her chest on instinct, searching through the pain for Tom’s weaknesses. He’ll use weapons, but he’s a fists-only guy, old school. And no one ever fights back.

The tire iron clatters to the ground, and she glimpses him adjusting his rings for another punch. This is her only chance, and she bites out a curse as she forces herself up. While he’s fiddling with a ring, she throws her first punch. She realizes, almost in slow-motion, that her own ring is missing. The thought flies away when her fist connects with Tom’s jaw.

It doesn’t draw blood, but it sends him staggering. His growl makes her shudder, and then Anetra’s world is just punch after punch, the noise of each hit lost to a cloud of blood and adrenaline. She jumps and kicks, catching Tom off-guard, taking advantage of the skills he hired her for.

Blood and sweat pour off her, stinging in her eyes and staining her face so much she barely notices the room tilting when he throws her onto her back. She pants, each breath bitter and coppery, thick like it’s passing through mud. His foot settles over her chest, nudging the ribs she hopes aren’t broken.

“You were good at your job,” he says, pressing a little harder, and she holds in a whimper. “But I think you might have been too good. You know too many things.”

He kicks her side. Her world erupts into white-hot pain, and if this is it, at least she put up a fight first.

Except there’s a smacking sound from somewhere, then a groan Anetra didn’t make. The weight is suddenly gone off her chest, followed by a distant thud.

Anetra shifts her head with a wince. Hovering over Tom, holding the tire iron, is Sasha.

Anetra blinks twice, wondering if she’s hallucinating. If the blood is messing with her vision that much.

But no, it’s Sasha, dropping the iron and helping Anetra to her feet. Resting one hand on her hip and the other on her arm, her touch so careful, so gentle, and yet the only thing keeping Anetra upright.

How did she even get here, how—Anetra’s missing ring. Sasha must have taken it when she grabbed Anetra’s hand, and bet it would lead her back to Anetra. A risky bet, but a calculated one. Sasha’s favorite kind.

“Oh my god, did I kill him? I didn’t kill him, did I?”

Anetra makes out his chest rising.

“Are you okay?” Sasha asks, breaking through Anetra’s fog. “Shit, you’re bleeding everywhere.”

“Sasha?” It’s slurred from the blood in her mouth, but it’s all she can ask, all she can focus on. Sasha came for her. Sasha is holding her even though she’s bleeding everywhere.

Sasha mumbles a fuck under her breath, but quickly regains her composure, cool and calm. “Okay, let’s get out of here. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I—I can’t really see out of my left eye,” Anetra says, too weak to be embarrassed about the crack in her voice. She hopes the blurriness is just from the blood and swelling, not something wrong. Sasha grabs her hand before she can even ask for help.

“It’s okay. You tell me where to go, and I’ll get us out.” Her voice is calm, guiding Anetra to take her first wobbly step.

“This back area is his,” Anetra says, blood dribbling down her lips. “Keep going until you see a black door.”

“Got it.”

Sasha gently leads her by the hand. The vision in Anetra’s left eye is blurry, like when she’d open her eyes underwater as a kid, and she stumbles even with Sasha’s guidance. She wipes the blood, but it makes things worse; it smears it across her face, gets even more into her eye. It doesn’t matter anyway, because the flow doesn’t stop. She just lets that eye slide shut, because having no vision is only slightly worse than the blood-tinged blur.

Sasha’s grip is still there, steady and slick with the blood Anetra’s getting all over her hand. But she doesn’t let go. She doesn’t let go, and it’s almost a relief. To have her hand in someone else’s, let them lead the way.

“We’re at the door,” Sasha says.

They’re in one of the employee entrance halls now. “Turn left. Go to…the brown door. Then another brown door. Then we’re in the alley.”

Her feet drag as Sasha leads her, her head drooping. A door creaks open, and the burst of cool night air, tinged with garbage from the alley, wakes Anetra up a little, though her head is still too heavy to lift.

“I’ll have my friend meet us here,” Sasha says. She shifts subtly, and it’s not until standing becomes easier that Anetra realizes Sasha adjusted her position to take on more of her weight. Anetra’s leaning on her almost fully now, her blood dripping onto Sasha’s dress like rose petals.

“Sorry…your dress,” Anetra mumbles.

“I have a whole bottle of stain remover at home,” Sasha says, and Anetra gets in one laugh before the pain stops her.

A silver car pulls up the mouth of the alley, literal light at the end of the tunnel. She doesn’t know what’ll happen next, can’t think with the ringing in her head, but they’re safe for now.

Sasha helps her into the backseat, and instead of taking the passenger seat, slides in beside her. Anetra can’t hold in her sigh of relief.

Sasha produces a towel from somewhere, but Anetra would need more than that—and more hands—to put pressure on all the places she’s bleeding from. The one above her eye is heaviest, and she presses the towel there with a wince.

She collapses against the seat, and things blur after that, a different fragment each time her eyes open. The neon lights fading into the distance. An arm around her waist helping her out of the car. A light shining into her eyes, making her hiss. The sweet smell of Sasha’s perfume, even more intoxicating when it’s not masked by smoke and liquor in the casino. And then Sasha’s voice, soft and gentle, telling her that she can sleep if she wants.

Anetra listens.

—-

Anetra wakes slowly, cautiously blinking until she realizes she can see out of both eyes. Her left one burns a little, but she can see. The ceiling above her is white, with a shadow from the sun. It’s daytime, then—though she doesn’t know which day. The bed she’s in is warm and soft, a cloud underneath her.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Anetra turns to her side, and there’s Sasha, ginger hair aflame in the sun. She’s in leggings and a sweatshirt, soft yet still stunning.

“Wh–where am I?” Anetra asks, wincing at her scratchy throat.

“My spare bedroom.”

“I’m in your house?” Anetra’s face burns, and she wants to hide under the blanket, unsure what to do now that she’s in Sasha’s house.

“I didn’t think a hospital was safe,” Sasha says, and she’s probably right. “It’s Friday morning, by the way.”

Anetra nods.

“Take these.” Sasha hands her two painkillers and a glass of water. Anetra winces as she sits up, gratefully swallowing the pills and finally taking stock of her injuries. She feels like a truck hit her, which is better than she expected to feel, honestly. There’s a bandage around her right hand, covering knuckles that are surely bruised and swollen. Her ribs and back ache, and her face stings with bruises and cuts from Tom’s rings. She raises a tentative hand to her eyebrow, and meets a square of gauze.

“That one needed stitches,” Sasha says, apologetic. “The friend who picked us up—Loosey—is a nurse. She brought supplies with her. I had her do the stitches because I didn’t know how and was afraid I’d make it worse. I did the rest myself.”

“You did this?” Anetra gestures to the bandages.

Sasha nods. “Loosey didn’t think you had a concussion, but I’m supposed to watch for it just in case. You’re pretty bruised up, but nothing’s broken.”

Sasha did this. Sasha cleaned her up, bandaged her, changed her into the T-shirt and sweatpants she’s wearing. Even though her friend could have done it, she did some herself, with her own hands. It’s been a while since Anetra was around hands that aren’t dangerous. Hands that weren’t ready to hurt her. Like Anetra almost hurt Sasha.

She almost hurt Sasha, and a wave of guilt overpowers any lingering pain. Sasha rescued her and took care of her, even after Anetra almost turned her in. “You didn’t have to do this, I didn’t mean to trouble you, I…” I lied to you. I almost betrayed you. I almost got you hurt.

“Anetra,” Sasha says, quiet and firm at the same time, “I wanted to take care of you. I don’t know what happened back there, but I’m pretty sure you saved my life. So thank you,” she says, with more sincerity than Anetra can take, or deserve.

“But I…” Anetra doesn’t know how to say it, or where to begin.

Sasha rescues her. “I’m assuming that office job you told me about doesn’t exist.” She doesn’t sound mad. It must take a lot to make her mad, like in the basement. You can’t play a game like poker without having almost inhuman patience.

“No,” Anetra says quietly. “It doesn’t.”

“Whatever it is, you can trust me. I promise.”

Somehow, Anetra believes her. She starts at the beginning, the words big and strange, because she’s never told anyone. How she’d been scared and alone and desperate for the first job that would take her. How Tom hired her, got her out of the shady motel she’d been staying in and into an apartment that day. How she thought she’d be a bouncer at one of the clubs, or breaking up drunken fights. How she was thrust into the basement and instructed to do anything he told her, with the understanding that if she didn’t, she’d lose the job, her apartment, and probably her life. If she had anyone she cared about, she would have lost them too.

“I don’t know how to get out. I…I don’t think he’d let me leave,” Anetra finishes, head clear like poison has come out of her system. “But I’m really sorry I lied to you.”

Sasha is quiet, and the longer the silence grows, the more Anetra worries it’s too late, that the lies were too big. “I understand why you did it. That’s a shitty situation.” Sasha bites her lip. “I’m sorry too. I knew the risks of playing high stakes like that, maybe I should’ve stopped.”

“No,” Anetra says with the most strength she can manage. “This isn’t your fault, okay? Don’t apologize for being amazing.”

“Amazing, huh?” Sasha asks, smiling shyly.

Anetra blushes. “Well, yeah. You’re probably the best I’ve ever seen.” She pauses, wondering if she should ask. “I gotta ask though, do you cheat? At either game?”

“What do you think?” There’s a slight challenge in her question.

Anetra thinks. She’s seen every cheating method imaginable—palming cards and chips, counting cards, wearing a wire to communicate with a partner—and Sasha never showed a hint of any. Sasha’s good, but never mean or braggy. Good enough to stand on her own. “No. At blackjack, I think you’re lucky, and you know when to walk away. At poker, I think you’re good at reading people.”

Sasha leans back in her chair with a satisfied smile.

Anetra rests against the pillows and smiles too. It’s so peaceful here, so soft in this bed with Sasha at her side. They could just stay here all day, ignoring the world of trouble clawing at the door. A world Anetra has done her best to ignore until now. “What are we gonna do?” she asks.

“Well, you are gonna stay in this bed.”

“I mean—”

“I know,” Sasha says gently. “I’ve been trying to come up with ideas. He obviously knows where you live, so we can’t go there. We can stay here, but from what you’ve told me, he’ll find us eventually. He’ll probably find us if we run. Police won’t help, and I hate dealing with them.”

“Tom has most of the police in his pocket.” It hits Anetra again how much danger she’s put Sasha in, in the casino and now in her own home. Even if she ran to California, she’d constantly be looking over her shoulder, waiting for Tom to get her. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this.”

“We’re done with apologies,” Sasha says, not unkindly. “You didn’t cause this. He was after me anyway. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay.”

Things slip into silence, crumbling under the weight and danger in the room.

“This Tom,” Sasha says thoughtfully, “would he take a deal?”

“What kind of deal?” Anetra asks in confusion.

Sasha’s face morphs into the careful one Anetra recognizes from the casino. One where she’s thinking, weighing each option. Hit or stay, fold or play. “Let’s say we could get him a big-time gambler. One who’s taken lots of money. Would he take that person, in exchange for letting us go?”

“Maybe, but I don’t know who—”

“I can get him Ace.”

It takes Anetra a few seconds to process. Ace is an old gambler who’s notorious for counting cards and cheating casinos. He funds his winnings into organized crime rings and began running his own casino last year. He’s Tom’s nemesis, the man who won a million dollars in one night at the blackjack tournament. Tom’s been chasing him for six years.

“How do you…how…can you really get him Ace?” Anetra asks, her ribs aching with the breathless shock.

“He and I have…history,” Sasha sighs. “I was runner-up to him in a bunch of tournaments when I was starting out. In the last game we played, I beat him, and he’s wanted revenge since. If he hears I’m in the tournament, he’ll enter. He can’t resist the chance to beat me.”

Anetra considers it. Tom has spent six years chasing Ace. He might be the only person Tom hates more than Anetra and Sasha right now. Bringing him down would give Tom power over him, and make the Golden even more powerful.

For all its rules and varieties, poker really comes down to one thing: having a better hand than your opponent.

Sasha just might have given them a winning hand.

—-

The next hour is spent solidifying the plan.

Anetra will call Tom and tell him about the offer. If he takes it, Anetra and Sasha are guaranteed safe entry into the Golden Saturday night. Sasha will play in the tournament alongside Ace, who’ll be drawn in after it gets out to him that Sasha is playing. Tom will take him during the tournament, in exchange for leaving Anetra and Sasha alone for good.

It’s not as detailed as it should be, and it all hinges on Tom saying yes. If he doesn’t take the deal, they don’t have another option, and Anetra tries not to think about it.

She dials the phone, and Sasha takes her free hand while it rings. He has to answer, because if he doesn’t this is all for nothing, and—

He picks up, and Anetra takes a breath. “I want to make you a deal,” she says before he can speak, like she’s in some crime movie.

“And I want your blood all over my floor,” Tom growls. “When I find you—”

The most important rule of bargaining: to offer the person something they want and don’t have.

“The deal involves Ace.”

There’s a pause, one where Anetra’s heartbeat pounds in her ears. She squeezes Sasha’s hand, holding to her like an anchor.

“You have one minute to convince me.”

That’s all Anetra needs.

#rpdr fanfiction #s15 #anetra #sasha colby #anetra x sasha #lesbian au #casino au #angst #luck be a lady #athena2 #tw violence #tw blood/injury #concrit welcome

14 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 1 year

Text

Luck Be A Lady, Chapter Three {FINAL} (Sasha x Anetra) - Athena2

Summary: Anetra and Sasha enjoy a bit of peace before they have to put their plan into action.

A/N: Thank you again for the love and amazing feedback on the last chapter! I really enjoyed writing this whole thing and am sad it’s over. Thank you so so much to Writ for encouraging me through this whole thing, and for beta-ing as well. You’re the best <3

Please leave feedback on this if you like, I really appreciate your comments!!

Sasha’s stubborn in her insistence that Anetra stays in bed, so Anetra rests with a bag of ice on her ribs as Sasha clangs around in the kitchen that night, even though she offered to help. Sasha returns with two bowls of mac and cheese, saying it would be something more exciting but she hasn’t been grocery shopping in a few days. It’s not the box kind—it’s real, with thick cheese sauce and breadcrumbs on top, and Anetra has to stop herself from tipping the whole bowl into her mouth. Add cooking to Sasha’s many talents.

Anetra pats the space next to her in bed, and Sasha takes it.

They eat in silence, and Anetra worries it will be awkward after all the talking. But it’s peaceful, a moment to breathe after the stress of the phone call and planning. It’s easy to have Sasha here, to have her understand the need for silence rather than trying to fill it.

After they eat, Sasha pulls a thermometer out of thin air and sticks it in Anetra’s ear. Anetra rolls her eyes and huffs. “What’s this for? I’m not sick.”

Sasha takes it out and nods in approval. “Loosey told me to watch for infection.” That’s not all, because then Sasha unleashes an avalanche of questions. “Have you had any nausea or dizziness?”

“No.”

“What year is it?”

“2023.”

“Where are we?”

“In your house. I don’t know exactly—“

“When’s your birthday?”

“Aren’t you supposed to ask questions you know the answer to?”

“Shit, you’re right,” Sasha says, and they burst out laughing. It’s so good to laugh, to feel this safety for just a bit longer, that Anetra doesn’t even mind how laughing makes her chest twinge.

At some point, the head-injury questions become real ones. Questions about when her birthday really is, which sends Sasha on an astrology tangent. Questions about what movies Anetra likes, what music she listens to. Her favorite childhood memories before things went bad, playing video games with her cousins while the adults droned in the background, tracing over her sports medals and trophies. This time, she lets herself be honest with Sasha. She tells Sasha things she hasn’t told anyone, about the restless nights convincing herself she didn’t like girls. The fight with her family and how she thinks part of her will always want to go back, like a missing body part you don’t need, but still notice, and Sasha nods in a way that Anetra knows she understands exactly how it feels.

“I haven’t talked this much in years,” Anetra says hoarsely. “Haven’t really had anyone to talk to.”

“No?” Sasha asks, and her smile isn’t one of pity, like Anetra expected, but one of care.

“No.” The concern on Sasha’s face is too much, and Anetra busies herself with drinking every last drop of water.

Sasha gets up and grabs the bowls, letting out a yawn, and it hits Anetra that she looks exhausted, the fading light making the shadows under her eyes more pronounced. How had she not noticed sooner? Maybe because Sasha carries herself with such poise, is so good at helping others that she never lets you notice she needs help too. Anetra doesn’t know when they got here, but Sasha spent a while fixing her up, and she was awake when Anetra was. She must have barely slept, and Anetra is split with guilt for keeping her up all night and the unfamiliar, probably undeserved affection of being cared for like that.

“Did you sleep last night?” Anetra asks.

Sasha shrugs. “A little.”

“Not enough, I bet. And I’m not even as good at betting as you.”

“I’m fine.”

Anetra shakes her head. “If I have to stay in bed, so do you. You can do the dishes later.”

“But—”

“Bed,” Anetra says, no room for arguing.

Sasha sighs, but she sets the dishes on the nightstand and slides back under the sheet.

Anetra freezes, her chest burning, because she wanted Sasha to rest for once, but didn’t think about what would happen after Sasha got in bed with her. It’s different, now that they’re under the sheet, instead of sitting up. No food as a distraction. Now they’re laying together, and Anetra knows Sasha liked her enough to kiss her cheek, but she doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to say—

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Sasha asks.

“Sure,” Anetra says gratefully. “You can pick.” She’d watch damn near anything to avoid how close Sasha is to her, how fast her heart is racing.

Anetra’s learned that Sasha likes classic movies, especially for the fashion, and isn’t surprised when she picks Roman Holiday.

“You know,” Sasha begins about halfway through, eyes heavy with sleep, “The casino is nice and all, but I like this way better.”

“Really?”

She nods. “Quiet nights in are my favorite. A little wine. A little weed. Some TV.” She pauses, and adds, “You.”

“Too bad I had to get beat up for it to happen,” Anetra says, smiling a little. Deflecting more than a little, because she doesn’t know what to do with the enormity of that little word at the end of Sasha’s thought. It’s like trying to cup a waterfall in your hands, Sasha’s affection spilling over and threatening to flood the place.

“Too bad,” Sasha laughs too, and they stay quiet until the movie ends.

Though Sasha said she’d go to her room after the movie, she’s half-asleep when it ends, so peaceful that Anetra couldn’t possibly disturb her. Sasha spent hours taking care of Anetra, skipping over herself, and sleep is the least Anetra can give in return.

Anetra watches Sasha’s half-sleep become real sleep, her breaths slow and steady. And though Sasha is gorgeous all dressed up in the casino, there’s something about seeing her like this, sweatshirt sliding off her shoulder, hair flowing down her back like tendrils of flame. Something about seeing her calm and at rest, when she’s so often in motion. It’s seeing her without her armor, soft and vulnerable, and Anetra feels that desperate tug to care for her and protect her. The same tug that probably got her into this mess. But she takes one more look at Sasha, as she sighs and moves a little closer in her sleep, and if this is a mess, it’s the most beautiful mess Anetra’s ever been in.

—-

Anetra wakes first the next morning, hesitantly stretching her sore arms. She’s wondering if she should get up—and risk Sasha’s mom-scolding—to surprise her with breakfast, when Sasha’s nose scrunches up, making Anetra’s heart rush with affection. Her eyes flutter open soon after. It’s adorable to watch her eyes—a soft green that reminds Anetra of spring—narrow in confusion, before quickly piecing things together and relaxing.

“Morning,” Anetra says quietly.

“Morning.” Sasha props herself up on one arm, hair falling over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep here.”

“You were exhausted.” Anetra glances over her. Her skin is rosy in the light, even with a pillow crease on her cheek, and the bags under her eyes are gone.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Sasha frets.

“You didn’t, I promise,” Anetra says, touched again at the concern. She grins. “And hey, that was the best night of sleep I’ve had in years.”

Sasha rolls her eyes. “You’ve worked nights for the past five years! That’s probably the only night of sleep you’ve had.”

“Well, yeah, but it proves my point. I’m not even used to sleeping at night anymore, but I did with y—I did here, and it was great.”

Sasha sighs, but she’s smiling too. “I think you’re right, though. I swear I slept better last night than I would’ve in my own bed.”

It was probably just the exhaustion catching up with them, but Anetra can’t deny how safe she felt last night, even with the danger breathing down her neck.

“So,” Sasha begins seriously, “Scrambled eggs or fried?”

“Fried,” Anetra says, after drawing it out as long as she can. “Can I help this time?”

Sasha scans her over, surely assessing her injuries, but Anetra’s face is on fire just the same.

“As long as you don’t move around too much,” Sasha says.

“Deal.”

—-

“Okay, one more time.”

Sasha’s bathroom has been their war room for the past hour. Anetra took her first shower in days, eyes avoiding the mess of blue and purple dotting her ribs and back. She couldn’t scrub her body as hard as she wanted to, so she settled for scrubbing her hair instead, washing out sweat and forgotten traces of blood, trying to erase the past few days. She even let Sasha sit her down and dry it for her after, and she keeps running her hands through it to feel the softness.

Sasha finishes wrapping the new bandage around Anetra’s hand. “We go in the casino and right to the tournament room. I play like normal, don’t give anything away. And then we wait for security to get Ace for cheating.”

“And don’t drink anything they give you,” Anetra adds. She wouldn’t put anything past Tom at this point.

“Right.” Sasha nods, and if she’s worried, she gives no sign. “I really like your tattoos, by the way,” she adds, pointing to the ones on Anetra’s arm, poking out from her rolled-up sleeve.

“Thanks.” Anetra’s burning from her chin to the tips of her ears, and she reviews the plan again while Sasha gets dressed. For all its darker parts, working at the casino was methodical, structured, and Anetra clings to that structure now, to block out the worries. And the thoughts of Sasha.

Sasha comes back in a red dress that clings to her hips and shows off the freckles dusting her shoulders, pulling in Anetra’s thoughts like a magnet. The red reminds Anetra of the roulette squares at the casino, the red of destiny and fortune while you await your fate.

“You look beautiful,” Anetra says, forcing her mouth not to drop. There’s no time to have these thoughts about Sasha. Not when their lives are on the line.

“Thank you.” Sasha smiles and takes her place in front of the mirror to do her makeup. Like just about everything Sasha does, Anetra can’t look away. She savors the light flicks Sasha does for her eyeliner, the delicate movements of her wrist as she spreads on red lipstick. It makes her fearsome and gorgeous at the same time, a warrior preparing for battle and a diamond preparing to shine.

Anetra takes a spot next to her in the mirror. She’s in her black clothes Sasha washed for her, lightly gloating about her stain remover that got all the blood out. Her eyes drift to the purple bruises painted around the edges of her eyes, on her chin. The thin cuts littering her face, looking more like scratches now that the blood and swelling have stopped. She self-consciously runs a finger along the gauze above her eyebrow. The stitches aren’t out yet, but Sasha admitted that Loosey told her it would scar. There’s a scar on her knee from a fall off her bike as a kid, but that’s small and faded and out of the way. This one is on her face, and she doesn’t know how big it will be, or if it will make her look weird, or make people stare at her funny.

“It’ll be pretty thin,” Sasha says, reading her mind. “Loosey said the cut wasn’t that big, facial wounds just bleed a lot.”

Anetra nods. She knows she should be grateful it wasn’t that bad, that it didn’t damage her eyesight. She should be grateful she got through everything Tom did with such little damage, and she is. She doesn’t regret it, and would do it all over again to escape with her life, and Sasha’s. But—

“It probably still feels weird, huh?” Sasha says gently, and Anetra wonders if she really can read minds, if that’s why she’s so good at poker. “It’s okay to be upset about it.”

Anetra shrugs. “I mean, it’s nothing, considering how bad it could have been. I just…I don’t know. I guess I do feel weird about it.” She doesn’t know exactly how to put it into words, the anger over him doing it, the strange pride in surviving it, the tiny fears about how it’ll look. How all those things are somehow stored in a few stitches, tearing at the seams of the gauze.

“Anetra?”

“Yeah?”

Sasha bites her lip, and Anetra doesn’t breathe. “I like you. I really, really like you. And I want you to know I like you with or without the scar.”

It hits Anetra harder than one of Tom’s punches. She knew Sasha liked her; she danced with her and kissed her cheek in the casino. But it’s different to hear it so clearly, crushing Anetra’s doubts that Sasha was just caring for her and letting her stay here because of the danger they’re in, no actual feelings attached. And it would be easier, surely, for Anetra to keep her feelings inside, especially tonight, but holding back would only hurt them both.

“I like you too,” Anetra says. “A lot, actually.”

“I liked you from when I saw you a few months ago,” Sasha admits, playing with her hair. “I thought you were too shy to talk to me, and was thinking of how I would talk to you. But you always disappeared.” She smiles sadly. “I know why now.”

“I’m sorry,” Anetra says, even though they’re done with apologies. “But I want you to know I liked you from the start too. I would’ve talked to you way sooner if I could’ve.”

Sasha nods. She leans in a little, so little it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone else, but it is to Anetra. She leans in too, pulled into Sasha’s orbit, taking in the galaxies of her eyes. Sasha’s lips are just inches away when an alarm blares, and Anetra jumps. Sasha’s phone buzzes from the bathroom counter, the alarm she set to remind them to leave on time.

“Right,” Anetra says, trying to catch her breath, “let’s go.”

It’s time to roll the dice.

—-

The ride to the casino is silent. Sasha wanted to drive, and Anetra stares out the window, watching hotels and casinos rise out of the desert to meet the sky. Neither wants to put on the radio and risk an upbeat song that will clash with the tension, or a depressing song that will make it more apparent. They stay in the little bubble of silence, and it’s easy to think that as long as they keep driving, they’re safe. The dice don’t have to land; they can spin forever and forever, fates unknown. But the car’s tires spin and spin, and they come to a stop in the parking garage. You can’t delay the inevitable in gambling. You have to win or lose sometime.

It’s usually lose, but Anetra isn’t thinking that.

Anetra’s heart patters against her chest like desert rain on a tin roof as they get out of the car. Her hands fidget at her sides, wanting to crack her knuckles or something, but unable to with the bruises and the bandage.

“Will you hold my hand?” Sasha asks, like Anetra is doing her a favor and not the other way around. Anetra immediately wraps her good hand around Sasha’s, her heart calming. “You have really nice hands,” Sasha says, threading their fingers together.

“I do?”

“Yeah.”

They hold their breath as they near the door, Anetra half-anticipating a sniper to get them just from being this close to the place. But they step inside without anything happening. Tom’s holding his end of the deal so far.

Their hands stay intertwined through the casino, until they reach the tournament room on the second floor. Sasha lets go to sign in at the check-in table, but immediately grabs Anetra’s hand again. They hover in the corner of the hallway, watching other players file in.

Anetra takes a look at Sasha, trying to gauge how she’s doing. Just like when she’s playing, Sasha is calm and composed, her expression giving nothing away. But maybe her mouth is just a little tighter than normal.

“Are you nervous?” Anetra asks.

“A little,” Sasha admits, and Anetra knows Sasha must trust her to share that much. She’d never let an opponent see her weakness; you won games by keeping your cards close to your chest, literally and figuratively. “Not about the tournament, really. Just…this is more dangerous than I would have liked, but I don’t think we have another option.”

Anetra nods. “It’ll be okay. You just play.”

Sasha nods, but suddenly tenses beside her. “That’s him.” She nods towards a man in his sixties with short gray hair.

She thinks Ace will ignore them, be so focused on the game that he’ll go right inside. But that’s not his style, Anetra sees immediately. She’s seen many styles of players, and he’s the predator type. The type who stalks the area, marks his territory, and plays with his prey before the game.

He makes his way toward them, and Anetra squeezes her hand, straightening up and putting herself in front of Sasha a little. Making sure he doesn’t even think of messing with her.

“I want to see you before I beat you,” Ace says as a greeting, voice barbed-wire sharp. “Memorize that pretty face before it loses to me.”

Anetra doesn’t even realize she’s launching herself at him until Sasha tugs her back, resting a steadying hand on her hip.

“And you’ve got a guard dog now,” he adds with a sneer.

“The only thing you’ll be seeing is my name left on the tournament board,” Sasha says calmly, but the coldest Anetra’s ever heard her. “And I’ll be seeing your face lose to me, except yours isn’t even pretty.”

“We’ll see.” His eyes flash the cold gray of steel, of a knife in your stomach, but he leaves.

“Are you okay?” Anetra asks, hands rubbing Sasha’s shoulders.

“I’m fine.”

“Can I tell you…that was so bad-ass,” Anetra says. “You’re so bad-ass.” Anetra still wants to punch him, but Sasha’s response was better—cool and unbothered, a calm ocean when he was trying to get a typhoon out of her.

Sasha lets out a breathy laugh. “I’m not the one who almost got in her second fistfight in forty-eight hours.”

Anetra smiles sheepishly.

“When this is over,” Sasha says quietly, “you can come with me, if you want.”

“To California?” Anetra asks in disbelief. She’s been so focused on getting through tonight, she hasn’t spared a thought for what happens after. When, win or lose, she’s left walking through the wreckage of her life. The deal was for her and Sasha’s lives, but Anetra’s still going to lose everything she’s called her life here.

Sasha nods. “I have two extra bedrooms in the new house. You can stay until you find your own place. If you want,” she repeats.

“I—”

A hush falls over the hallway, and everyone shuffles through the doors.

It’s time.

Sasha’s shoulders are squared and steady as she turns toward the players’ entrance, despite the offer she just gave Anetra. “It’ll be okay,” she says. “I’ll be okay.” She leans over and kisses Anetra’s cheek, feather-light over the cuts and bruises, just like she did that first night.

Anetra watches her go, a coach watching their boxer enter the ring, a woman sending her lover off to battle.

Now there’s just the waiting.

—-

The tournament is in a small room, with gold carpet and gold accents on the scarlet walls. Four security members prowl the floor. Only a few approved guests are allowed, and they sit by the table they’re watching. It’s too far to see up-close, so most of the viewing relies on a screen, like sitting in the rafters at a concert and watching on a Jumbotron. Anetra knows the same video feed is also going to the basement, to catch cheating. There’s no photography, no contact, and no talking allowed.

It’s an elimination tournament. Six tables of six players each, trying to rack up as many chips as they can, in as many rounds as the time limit allows. The top two from each table move on to the second round, four tables of three players each. Only one winner from each table this time; making it two tables of two. And then one last table, with the top two players.

Four rounds of this.

Four rounds of sitting and waiting and sweating, eyes half on Sasha and half on the door, wondering if Tom will emerge.

The watching is the worst part. Anetra would almost prefer another fistfight, because at least she could do something. Instead, she has to watch Sasha up there, all alone in a sea of harsh players. This isn’t some casual game; it’s a real tournament with millions on the line. It’s not like Sasha needs help, but Anetra still wishes she could be with her, to rub her shoulders or make her laugh. At least then she wouldn’t feel so powerless.

But maybe she’s been powerless all along.

Sure, she had the job and her fighting skills, the power to bring people down. But every part of that was in Tom’s hand, flowing from his orders. She’s ignored a lot over the years because of how he saved her. She had traded her power for his protection, but maybe she doesn’t need his protection anymore.

Anetra shakes the thoughts away as round one starts. Sasha is on the end at her table, posture straight, hands still. Each player makes a bet to start. The dealer—each one hand-picked from the best of the casino’s staff—shuffles the cards and deals one face-up to each player, then himself, the white cards stark against green velvet. Each player gets another card, face-up, and the dealer gets another, face-down. Anetra knows the rules by heart, but watches the game like it’s brand new.

Sasha’s cards add up to eleven. She motions for a hit, and the dealer passes her the eight of hearts. She stays.

The dealer moves to the next player without skipping a beat. The numbers on the timer above each table melt away, and the faster things go, the more chips players can win.

After each player has a turn, the dealer flips over his second card. If the total of his cards is over sixteen, he stays; if the total is under sixteen, he has to take another card. The result is the same: anyone with a higher score than the dealer’s final one wins double their bet. The dealer’s total is eighteen, and Anetra breathes a sigh of relief as Sasha stacks her chips in a neat pile.

And then the next hand begins, the seconds ticking by with each beat of Anetra’s heart.

After twenty minutes, an employee erases names on the tournament board.

Sasha’s is still there, and that’s all that matters.

—-

Table placement is supposed to be random, but when Sasha and Ace aren’t together by round two, Anetra knows Tom rigged things to keep them apart in the hopes they’ll be in the final game. It makes sense, from an entertainment perspective—two of the best players hand-to-hand.

If Sasha gets through this next hand.

She’s unlucky in her first one, taking a hit on top of her thirteen, and getting a ten, which sends her to bust.

The chips dwindle.

Anetra doesn’t breathe as Sasha’s pile grows smaller, then stands back up, until the timer stops.

After each round, the guests head to the betting table in the corner, altering their bets or adding more to their original ones.

Anetra doesn’t bet, but if she did, her money would always be on Sasha.

—-

Only four players now, spread between two tables, but despite the extra space, the room feels smaller than ever. The air presses on Anetra, thick and heavy and making her sweat. Everything seems to happen in slow motion; the lights glaring off the cards as the dealer flips them, the chips scratching against the velvet tabletop as they’re pushed around.

How much longer is Tom going to wait, make Anetra sweat it out? What if he doesn’t get Ace? What if this is all some set-up, and he’s going to burst through those doors and take Sasha away instead?

Sweat runs down Anetra’s neck, and she doesn’t even realize the third round is over until the alarm sounds.

Final round.

Two names on the tournament board.

Sasha vs. Ace.

—-

In the set-up period, her mind wanders, not to the game, but to Sasha’s offer.

You can come with me.

Can Anetra really go with Sasha? Sure, they haven’t known each other long, but they’ve bonded so deeply in the time they’ve shared. She knows Sasha, even trusts her. Sasha clearly returns the feelings, feels that same trust and connection that Anetra doesn’t know how to explain. And she wouldn’t have to stay with Sasha if she didn’t want to; she could get her own place, have the freedom and space she’s never had, even as a kid. But the past two days living with Sasha were the most fun she’s had in a while, so she might not mind staying.

She’d be leaving everything she’s ever known, everything she’s ever had. But really, what does she have here? A job that almost killed her, which she’s being dismissed from after tonight. An apartment that never felt like a home so much as a holding pen, which she’s also losing tonight. An old home she hasn’t been able to return to in five years. A few acquaintances, but no friends, because there was no point making friends with this job. Without the job, there’s nothing keeping her here besides painful old memories that sometimes intrude on her dreams.

Sasha is giving her a second chance. The chance of a home. The chance of a new life, with new memories to make. Maybe Anetra can let herself make them.

—-

The final round starts, and if there were a time for Tom to emerge, this has to be it. The two greatest blackjack players the casino’s ever seen, side by side at a table. Now that Ace is playing Sasha, Anetra takes time to watch him, alert for the little gestures she’s learned to recognize. He switches between rubbing his ear and rubbing his chin. The chin leads to success more often than not; Anetra figures this is his tell for counting cards, and the ear is meant to mislead. If she can see it, surely the security team can. Surely Tom won’t let his nemesis slip through his fingers again.

The timer blinks at her with red eyes.

“Hit.” Sasha’s soft voice calms her down, and Anetra watches the dealer flip over the six of clubs; on top of Sasha’s previous two cards, she has 21.

Anetra allows herself a tiny smile, pretending she could be there to hug Sasha. Trying to telepathically send her support when Ace snarls at her.

Even with the counting, Ace’s anger at Sasha is pushing him into dangerous risks, while she keeps her calm. Still, Anetra can’t tell how close things are; Sasha stacks her chips in neat towers, while Ace lets his spill over the table, making you cower at his sprawling pile.

It goes on and on; in the last five minutes, not even the players speak, instead motioning for hits or stays to save every second. There’s nothing but cards thwacking against the table and chips clinking, nothing but the sweat on Anetra’s neck and the pounding of her heart, until the alarm sounds.

Her chest aches with the air she can’t let out as the dealer counts the cards, and her breath flies out in one gasp when he announces Sasha the winner. The door bursts open an instant later, crashing into the wall.

Standing in the doorway is Tom, lips turned into the only smile Anetra’s ever seen on his face. His face also carries the marks of that night, splotched blue and purple, and Anetra grins. He strides to the table like a commander, instructing the guests to leave for a security matter; they rush out in a flood, brushing past the security team. Anetra should run with them, should stay far away from Tom after she barely escaped the first time. But Sasha saved her in the basement when she could have just escaped and saved herself.

There’s no way Anetra’s leaving her.

Tom reaches the table, his beefy hands clamping down on Ace’s shoulders, and Anetra can’t help smiling at the shocked look on Ace’s face.

Anetra runs to the table, and she relaxes for the first time all night when Sasha crashes into her arms. Anetra forgets where they are, forgets the stream of curses Tom and Ace are shooting at each other, and kisses Sasha. Her lips are as soft and warm and sweet as she is, and Anetra knows she’ll follow her to California, follow her anywhere.

Anetra pulls away to gasp for air. “That was,” she says breathlessly, “the best you’ve ever played.”

“Maybe.” Sasha grins slyly, and then puts her lips back on Anetra’s, kissing her like her lips are air.

They only break apart again when something slams on the table, and Anetra finally pays attention to her surroundings again. Ace, blood dripping from his lip, is in the hands of the security team. Tom is at the table, eyes staring into Anetra’s soul. She’s never been able to read him, and she still can’t, but tries. Anger, maybe, at her getting away once, and having to let her go again. Temptation to forget the bargain. Reluctant happiness at her giving him the man he’s been chasing.

“Are we good?” Anetra asks, making sure her voice doesn’t shake. She stands in front of Sasha, shielding her from his gaze. “You have Ace. Me and Sasha walk, and you never bother us again.”

He hesitates.

“Are. We. Good?” Anetra asks, demanding this time, her voice stern the way his always was.

Tom lays a palm over Sasha’s pile of chips. “I want her winnings.”

“That’s not part of the deal!”

Tom shrugs. “Take it or leave it. I have the whole team here to bring you back into this basement. You won’t walk out this time.”

“Anetra,” Sasha says, in that mix of firm and gentle she’s perfected, “give him the chips. Please. They’re not worth your life.”

Anetra is trembling, but she turns to look at Sasha. Sasha’s gazing at her desperately, hand stroking Anetra’s arm. Sasha’s won plenty before this tournament, Anetra knows. But it’s the principle of it. The fact that he’s stealing from them again, when he’s already taken so much from them.

From Anetra.

Except these aren’t her chips being taken; they’re Sasha’s. And Sasha wants her to live. Anetra wants to live too. She wants to live, take the weight of this place off her chest. Take its hooks out of her sore shoulders. She wants to go to California and build a new life, one she can love.

Anetra’s shoulders unclench. “Take them. As long as you never bother us again. I’d hate for the other casino bosses to hear about your dishonesty. Or who really gave you Ace.” It’s a cold threat, a reminder of the things she knows. Things she’ll let slip if he betrays her again.

“Deal.”

Anetra takes Sasha’s hand. “Let’s go.”

There’s more screaming and swearing as they leave, but it’s just a buzz in Anetra’s ears. Her hand is in Sasha’s. They’re walking out of here alive, with a new future on the horizon.

They keep holding hands until they reach the car, and Sasha pulls out of the parking garage like she’s aiding a criminal. She tears down the strip until the Golden is out of sight, and pulls into a diner, shoulders heaving. Maybe she needed the extra distance to breathe, to believe that they’re truly safe. Anetra doesn’t blame her; her own heart is only just beginning to slow.

Sasha turns to Anetra in disbelief. “Did we really just do that?”

Anetra smiles. “We really did.”

“Holy shit. I won a blackjack tournament. We handed over a criminal. You bargained with a casino boss. And you kissed me.”

“That one’s not as exciting as the others,” Anetra teases.

Sasha shakes her head. “It was to me.” Her eyes are warm and sincere, and Anetra melts.

“Sasha, I want to go to California with you. If you’ll still have me.” It’s not an I love you, and for all the bonding, Anetra doesn’t think she’s ready for that yet. But it’s as close as she can manage, and maybe better in some ways. I want to start a new life with you. You give me hope for the future.

“Of course I will!” Sasha’s smile is brighter than the sun. “You know,” Sasha begins, “I came here early on Thursday to have dinner with you. We never got to have it. On account of, you know, everything.” She nods at the red-and-white diner in front of them, and Anetra knows that turning in here wasn’t as random as she thought. Sasha’s always loved a well-calculated move.

Anetra doesn’t say anything. Instead, she gets out of the car and sprints to the driver’s side, opening Sasha’s door. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

Sasha grins. “And a milkshake.”

“And a milkshake,” Anetra agrees.

Sasha’s hand slides into Anetra’s, and becomes a winning one.

#rpdr fanfiction #anetra #sasha colby #anetra x sasha #lesbian au #casino au #luck be a lady #athena2 #concrit welcome

8 notes · View notes