9. Fair Grounds Race Course & Slots

Fair Grounds Race Course & Slots

It took over an hour to walk to the one place I thought might be safe. Fair Grounds. Racing wouldn't take place until a little later in the day, and honestly, I was merely hoping a race was scheduled. I hadn't been here in a long time, but there were generally races throughout the summer months. The last time I came here, I won a lot of money, but I lost everything.

My uncle had been the one to get me started in gambling. I wasn't actually sure he was an uncle related by blood, but I had been young. Uncle Sal knew what life was like. He understood hard truths that I didn't think Luc could. Minimum wage didn't pay the rent and keep you fed. Not in New Orleans. Maybe not anywhere. You worked multiple jobs to survive and had no life, even with roommates, because they often came up short. And if you were surviving, you weren't living. But if you could make a ten-spot turn into a grand, you could write a different story.

But there was another side to that story. Darker. Bleak. Because if you lost. And lost. And lost…

Someone always wanted you to pay up. Uncle Sal had eventually had to pay up. And I should have learned. Should have walked away then. But I didn't. It had already been too late.

Now I was back. The one place I thought I'd never go. But I never went to the Fair Grounds so I felt it would be safe. Jude wouldn't look here. Wouldn't expect it. Right?

Or maybe I could get in, get what I needed, and get out before he found out.

There was a niggling sensation in the back of my brain saying I was kidding myself if I actually thought this would work, but I also had no choice. I couldn't see any other way.

I played my change in the slots, pacing myself, so I wouldn't get kicked out before the first race. Loiterers weren't tolerated, even in places like this. The lights, the noise, all so flashy in a dark room. I hated it. I'd never been fond of slots. I preferred cards, but I'd done it all.

Placing a better bet would be easier if I knew anything about the horses, trainers, the teams, but there wasn't enough time to catch up. I'd won a bit from the slots to add to my five bucks and went in for the long shots. If I lost, I'd have a long fucking walk home. If I won, I'd have… Well, I'd have a start.

I thought of Luc's face, his eyes, when I moved toward the window. You could bet online here, but they kept the windows to honor the tradition. That was a damn good thing for me. I could place the bet and collect without a phone, and the actual line was short. I got in the back of it.

"Austin. For fuck's sake. Austin Broussard, what the fuck are you doing?"

Before I could figure out what was going on, the big goon grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked me out of the queue. "Jude? What the hell?"

"What the hell is right. You." He poked me in the chest. "Are not welcome here. Or anywhere that has gambling. You know that."

"I don't have a choice." I went into the song and dance about the rent, but he didn't stop scowling.

"Get a job, man. The rest of the world works for money. What did you do before this gambling shit ruined your brain?"

I huffed. "Waited tables, and before you go on, it doesn't pay enough. Never did." Even I could hear the desperation in my voice. If I had another way, I would have taken it.

"You have to figure this out, man. If you keep this up, you're going to end up dead."

"Why the fuck do you care? Drag my scrawny ass back to the cemetery—"

"Shut up. That was to scare you. We scare people. They pay. That's how it works."

I held my hands out, palms up. "With what? I've got nothing."

"Well. People with jobs who live in the real world and get in over their heads. Works with them, but I see that's not the case with you. But I also know you're smart. What you did with the boss and the, you know…" He leaned in and whispered, "Vampire."

"Doesn't help me now."

Jude shook me. "I know you're smart enough to get a grip on this." He frog-marched me to the front doors. "I have two hundred bucks in my pocket, Austin. And I'm going to give it to you. And you are not going to gamble it."

"I'm not?"

"No. You're going to take it to your landlord and pay your rent. Then you're going to think long and fucking hard about your next move. Get a job. Go back to school. Ask for help."

Ask for help? No one helped other people for nothing. But Jude pulled the cash out and stuffed it in my hand. "I can't take this."

"You can. You will. Now go." He shoved me forward.

"I can't pay this back."

"It's not a loan. I don't lend money. Because then I'd have to hurt people I like."

Maybe the money would help. Maybe it would be enough. Or maybe I could find somewhere to turn it into more. Two hundred was a lot, but I wasn't under the impression that it did anything more than put a small dent in my issues.

An old-timer walked up to me. "Dude," he said. "You better listen to that guy." He made a weird finger movement. "He's one of dem. He'll find you."

"One of them?" Jude was already gone when I looked around.

"Yesh…" He smelled like alcohol. "He a bokor. Magic man."

That could actually explain a few things. But not everything. I didn't know if this old guy was telling the truth, making shit up, or having delusions. But I'd seen too much in the last couple of nights to not heed his warning. "Yes, sir. I'm listening to you, man." I pointed at the old timer, tapped my chest with my fist full of cash, and then shoved it in my pocket and headed home.

My landlord, Mr. Walsh, counted out the money. His face turned red, and I thought he was going to explode. Then he sighed heavily. "This isn't enough. Rent is more than two hundred bucks."

"I know. But I'm having a hard time, and I'm trying. This is a start. I swear."

"Start for what?" Walsh held up the money as if it didn't make sense to him. Maybe it didn't. It didn't make much sense to me either.

"I'm trying to do better. To be better. I found someone and—"

"Ah…well. You found a man, huh? Love will make you do all kinds of things. The way I see it is either you'll push through and become that better man, or it'll break you. Sure hope you do the right thing, kid."

"I'm trying. I'm gonna try."

"Okay. For love. I'll give you a chance. You have two more weeks. Now go." He waved his hand at me as if brushing me off. I didn't know what to think of that. First Jude, now Walsh. Both giving me a chance. A chance I never gave myself.

I went back to my place. Through the front door this time. It kind of felt nice. But I was at the end. Tired, hungry, sweaty. It was hot out, as usual. I took a shower and crashed, sleeping the rest of the day. I woke up before the sun went down, still exhausted and hungry, and I had no clue what else to do. The only thing I could. I got dressed and headed out into the city.

Realizing I was heading to the riverfront, I slowed down. It was half an hour later and the sun was trying to set as I stood on the stairs across Decatur Street from Jackson Square. A line of mule-pulled carriages lined the way, their drivers hoping to score a fair. The cathedral loomed over everything. Café Du Mond was down the street, and a little beyond that was where I'd left Luc at the river, tucking the ring in my pocket. I missed the hell out of him, but I was afraid to put the ring back on. Afraid he'd be mad, but worse, that I had so completely let him down. I couldn't remember ever feeling so hopeless in my life. Even when my mother died. She had been my tether to a normal world. She was kind. She helped people. But when she needed help, there was no one.

Then there I was. All alone, facing the world, but I'd already learned how to survive. And she was no longer around judging me and the stupid choices I made. I gambled away my life after that.

Until Luc.