Chapter Text
Your shoes clicked across the marble floor as you made your way to the bar. You wanted a beverage while you waited for your husband to get done with his conference. Only military personnel allowed.
You pretended to not like the casino atmosphere, but you did enjoy people watching. Your eyes scanning the slot machines as people dropped more quarters into the hole. Sometimes they were desperate enough to throw in pennies, nickels, and dimes too just to see if the machine would turn.
You watched people throw away hundreds if not thousands of dollars within hours. Some people had money to burn, but others were below the poverty line. It makes you wonder at what point does someone stop. How can a human being go so far?
Maybe it's the same way with anything? Is that how your gentle loving husband gets caught up in a scandal involving sadistic torture of POWs? The same man who danced with you on your wedding night and gave you flowers on your anniversary. The man who held you as you cried for your childhood dog and tickled you to laughter after a hard day of work.
After being held down by your throat and choked until you were seeing stars, and not in a good way, you could imagine that Will could do some serious damage. He was a dangerous man, and you would never want to get on his bad side. Those hands did more than just caress your broken heart.
You took a sip of your martini as you watched a young woman gamble her college tuition away. Her movements getting more frantic as more dollar bills were eaten by the slot machine. You saw the sign above it which told you it was a big money slot-er. You could hear her mumbling under her breath about how the next one would be the big one. It was something you heard before.
You turned your gaze over to some partying business men who had apparently excelled at some business deal. Their hands laden with busty big booty women. No doubt they'd be down a few thousand dollars by the end of the night. Those people wouldn't come cheap, you knew that.
You sat your glass down as you spotted Will making his way to you. His hair hidden behind a baseball cap and shirt with a suit blazer thrown over it. He looked even more disheveled than before.
"Will?" you ran over to him and grabbed his hands.
He merely looked through you before walking out. Your hands clasp his as you let him pull you away.
***
You ate a bite of your 24 hour diner eggs as he looked towards you for some sort of answer. He met some kid in the conference. A kid of a man he served with in his final days. A kid who's lofty goal was to torture and kill the man responsible for putting his old man jail. It was a lot to digress in of itself, but even more when he asked your husband to join him.
You set your fork down and grabbed his hands.
"What do you think you should do?"
Will set his head down before hunching his shoulders once more. His head came up to looked at your. His big eyes giving a droopy appearance.
"I think I want to help him," he squeezed your hands, "I think I can make a difference in his life. Maybe it won't turn out like mine."
You kissed his knuckles.
"Only as long as you know when to pull back," you gazed into his deep brown eyes, "I can't loose you to this. I can't."
"I won't," he spoke as if he didn't know if he was lying or not.
You knew he probably did t even know himself.
"So did he leave any contact information?" you knew it was time for a first step once more.
***
You used your cell phone to look up La Linda. The glue your husband met during one of his poker matches while you were running errands. She looked like quite an accomplished woman. She ran the go between for gamblers and investors. She took a portion of the winnings as her investors took fifty percent of what your husband would take away from winning. The catch was what he would have to pay back if he didn't win.
Losing meant paying those investors back. The portion they put up for him to gamble was in the hundred thousands. Big money with bigger stakes. If he lost, this would wipe you out financially. Completely. Not one penny left.
You saved. You budgeted. You sold it all. Everything that was once an accumulation of your whole entire life. All for the goal of getting William back again. If he did this, then you would just lose everything you worked for all your life. A heavy blow you didn't know if you could withstand.
You wanted to tell him no. You wanted to tell him to leave the kid behind. He wasn't a minor. The boy was a young adult who could make his own choices and throw his own life away. You wanted to grab Will and pull him so far away from this that he would never come back.
***
A waitress dropped off a refill for your beverage as you watched Cirk eat a bite of eggs. Your husband was explaining what he did for a living. The breath of a career gambler telling the artful tale of his trade.
You knew he was smart, but it was something else to hear the way his mind worked. A rapid fire of input to output. He analyzed every bit of information, something no doubt to keep him alive in combat.
You loved the way he talked about cards. The numbers, the people, the motivation. You could listen to his ramblings for hours upon hours, even if it still confused you how to one up your opponent. You could see a passion burning in his eyes even if it was deep inside his soul. A link to keep him grounded to this plane of existence.
Your hand moved automatically to his thigh to squeeze it reassuringly. You would stand by him as he coached this younger man. Your fingers feeling the coarse jean material which covered his large thighs. The pulse racing along the length.
Hearing a question broke your concentration until you focused on what Cirk had asked. What was your role in all this?
"I handle his budgets," you spoke almost monotone like, "Make sure we have enough to live off of. Make sure he knows how much to put up or put down."
"And your relationship to him?" the young man pointed to Will.
"He's my husband," you offer, "I'm his partner in everything."
Will clasped your hand underneath the table. His fingers tracing your skin even though it had some slight wrinkles from age.
Cirk looked at your strangely before focusing on your husband once more.