Page 1 of Elijah's Hope
1
Hope’s Point,Alaska
Eli
“I check.”
I looked at Jackson who was sitting to my right. Motherfucker never gave anything away.
I didn’t have to look at my cards. I knew I was holding kings. I also knew there was an ace on the flop.
“Check,” I said.
Noah, who we referred to as Ark, snorted. “You two are pussies. Check.”
“Who’s the pussy?” Cal asked Ark. “Two bucks.”
A typical Cal move. As our boss and fearless leader up here in Nowheresville, Alaska, he was constantly keeping us on our toes. Settling for a round of checks would never fly for him. My guess he was holding nothing, too.
The door to the bar where we were playing poker flew open and we all looked up to see who would be joining us for our Friday night entertainment. Most everyone from the camp not working a shift was already here. A bunch of guys were playing pool. Bud, the owner of the place, had some country music playing in the background. Nothing too exciting.
Which is why, when the door to the bar opened, everyone looked.
As if one day some fucking rock star might just appear and shake up our world. Only we all knew that was never going to happen. It wasn’t like there were any strangers who just showed up in Hope’s Point. Not when you’re in the northwestern tip of the state. Only way here was by sea or by air.
So we all knew the guy who came in with his wife behind him. And it never failed to be the freaking weirdest thing I ever did see.
“Zeke,” we muttered as a group.
“Yep,” he said in way of acknowledgement.
“Hi, guys!” Eve waved to us.
She had her arm around her husband who had a four-month-old baby strapped to his chest in one of those baby sarong wraps.
What made that sight so weird?
Zeke was tall, built like an ox, with a military short haircut. He had to be somewhere in his late forties, maybe fifty given the creases around his eyes. But he screamedbadass. No, beyond badass. The guy looked like the psycho killer out of every horror movie I had ever seen.
His wife, however, was this young, hot chick who always had a smile for anyone who said hello. The two of them were the least likely looking couple I had ever seen. And no one would have pegged a guy like Zeke as a baby daddy.
Only in fucking Alaska.
“Eve.” We all returned her greeting with smiles of our own. Eve was cool. But Zeke was the type of guy who made us all sure to keep our greetings toward his wife friendly and from a distance.
I would not want to be the man who ever stood between Zeke and his wife.
Not that he had anything to worry about from us. Apparently, the last company that had drilled oil up in these parts had filled their ranks with slimeballs. Dyson International didn’t operate that way. The men out here now were professional, hardworking and always respectful of the locals.
Cal made sure of that.
“What are you playing?” Eve asked, making her way over to our table.
“Hold ’em,” I told her. “Want to play in?”
“She doesn’t,” Zeke informed me.
Eve slapped him lightly on the shoulder. “He was asking me,” she told her husband. “I can play if I want to play.”
