The Lucky Star's basement smelled like fear. Marcus stood at the door, his hands in his pockets. Claire was beside him, her dad's notebook in her hand. Sophia was outside, the car running—their escape plan.
Wolf was waiting at the poker table, Raymond tied to a chair behind him. His face was bruised, his lip split. "Marcus," Wolf said, grinning. "Sit. We have a debt to settle."
Marcus sat, his knee bouncing. The dealer dealt the cards. He flipped his over: ace and king of spades.
Wolf bet $10,000. "All in," he said. "Your uncle's freedom for your chips."
Marcus's heart raced. He had $7,000 from the Silver Star. Not enough. But he had the weighted chip—Miller had tested it, confirmed it was cocaine. He pulled it from his pocket.
"I'll bet this," he said, sliding it across the table. "Worth $3,000. Cocaine. Your cocaine."
Wolf's face darkened. "You're bluffing."
Marcus shook his head. "Miller has the test results. The FBI's on their way. You're done, Wolf."
Wolf laughed, pulling a gun from his waistband. "You think a chip will save you? I'll kill your uncle, then you. And the girl outside—she's next."
Raymond struggled against the ropes. "Marcus, run!" he yelled.
Marcus stood, reaching for the chip. Wolf fired a shot, missing his hand by inches. Claire ran in, tackling Wolf to the ground. The gun slid across the floor.
Marcus grabbed it, pointing it at Wolf. His hands shook. "Let my uncle go."
Wolf grinned, spit dripping from his mouth. "You won't shoot. You're a kid."
Marcus's finger tightened on the trigger. He thought of his mom's restaurant, of Claire's dad, of Raymond's bruises. He pulled the trigger.
Click. Empty.
Wolf laughed, shoving Claire off him. He grabbed Marcus by the throat, slamming him against the wall. "Stupid kid," he said.
Then the door burst open. Miller and two FBI agents ran in, their guns drawn. "Freeze!" Miller yelled.
Wolf reached for his gun, but an agent tackled him. He was cuffed, kicking and yelling.
Raymond was untied, collapsing into a chair. Claire ran to Marcus, checking his neck for bruises. "You okay?" she asked, her voice shaking.
Marcus nodded, his hands still trembling. The FBI took Wolf away. Miller walked over, clapping him on the shoulder. "Good work. The chip was enough to put him away. And we found your dad's body, Claire. In the warehouse. We'll get justice."
Claire's face paled, but she nodded. "Thank you."
Outside, the sun was rising. Sophia was leaning against the car, smoking a cigarette. "We did it," she said, grinning.
Marcus looked at Claire, then at Raymond. The debt was paid. His mom's restaurant was safe.
But as they drove home, Marcus thought of the anonymous email—"Your old poker cheat friend". He pulled out his phone, staring at it.
Claire noticed. "What is it?"
Marcus shook his head. "Nothing. Just… thinking about tomorrow."
Tomorrow, he'd go back to school. Tomorrow, he'd tell his mom the truth. Tomorrow, he'd start over.
But the email lingered in his mind. Who had sent it? And what did they want?
He looked out the window, the Los Angeles skyline glowing in the distance. The game wasn't over. Not yet.