Page 7 of How to Kill Your Rival

The git smirks at me, and I can’t read him. Is this a bluff? He doesn’t have an easy tell as far as I know.

God, the pleased look on his face is insufferable.

‘Are you in or not, Hamilton?’

‘Raise you five hundred,’ I say, and push my chips in. It’s reckless. I’ve got a pair of tens and fuck all else.

‘Real money?’ Fraser leans forward with his eyes glittering.

‘Obviously not,’ Priscilla says.

‘Obviously yes,’ James and I say.

Priscilla takes a deep sip of her tea and shakes her head.

Fraser sits forward before sighing. ‘I’m out.’

Dad doesn’t say anything but tosses his cards at the table and reaches for the whisky bottle while James and I glare at one another.

‘Show me,’ I say.

‘Show you what, Eliza?’ James says, and I swear I detect a lowering of his tone. Trying to throw me off, no doubt.

‘Your cards, numbnuts.’

‘Children. Play nice,’ Priscilla says.

James lays his cards down.

Damn it.

‘Fuck,’ I say, and lay mine down with a groan. It’s not that I can’t afford the wager – dealing death pays very well – but I detest losing to him.

‘I’ll take that in cash,’ he says.

‘You’ll take an IOU until I get to the bank if you want cash.’

‘I don’t accept IOUs.’

‘You don’t have much choice unless you want a sodding kidney,’ I say.

‘Or,’ he says, leaning back and folding his arms, ‘we could make it interesting.’

‘Five hundred pounds is interesting, James.’

‘I’m thinking more of a forfeit.’

Fraser grins. He loves it when I lose. Even more so if my dignity is potentially involved.

‘What kind of forfeit?’ I ask.

‘Loser runs down to the loch and gets in.’

The loch will be bloody freezing, especially at this time of night.

‘Naked,’ he adds.

‘We’ll freeze,’ I say.