Panic Room by David Koepp

I really s*****d the pooch this time. I never did anything like this before. Break into somebody’s house? Not even close. Bad cards, Kid. I swear to G*d, I been on the wrong end of maybe six straight years of bad cards. House. Car. Wife. (snaps his fingers — gone) Those are some seriously bad cards. And still, every time I pick up a fresh hand I swear to G*d, the rush comes so hot and prickly I feel it right down to my toes because this time, this one time, it might be there, this time it might be that hand, that perfect hand, that monster hand. (shakes his head)And you thought you were sick.