“You’re playing poker, right? That DKS one—Five Card West.” He drops beside me on the settee, which is when the smell of beer and vodka hits me. He is wasted. Wicker slaps the table. “Deal me in. I got ammo.” But when he starts patting his back, he snorts a laugh, gesturing to Lex. “Gimme my gun, bro.” Lex scoffs. “Yeah, that’s gonna happen. I wouldn’t even trust you with a blow dryer right now.”
