Poker Face

by Melissa Pearl

  Yanking the net off my head, he pulled my blond locks free, rubbing them between his fingers, tipping his head as he scrutinized me. “The blonde beauty with eyes like the ocean. That’s how we’ll sell you. Men will be lining up around a corner for just a taste.” Using my hair, he pulled me toward him, sniffing my locks and running his tongue up my neck.

  I tried to lean away from his hot touch but he grabbed my side, digging his thumb into my bruised ribs.

  Tears broke free, cascading over my cheeks. I fought my wobbling lips, biting down to contain my disgusted wail.

  He stepped away from my quivering form with a little snicker before glancing at his enraged nephew. “Oh, come, Bruno. You know she only has so many lives. You will get her eventually.” He flicked his head toward the living area. “Have a nightcap with me.”

  With a huff, Bruno brushed past me, sticking me with his molten glare before stepping past his uncle.

  Santiago grinned at me, his smile smug and slap-worthy. Turning to Sal, he clipped, “Lock her in her room and then ask Monique to come and clean her up.”

  I stayed against the table while Santiago walked away. Sal’s hand was gentle on my arm. It hurt to move too quickly and I gasped as he pulled me up the stairs. He gave me a sympathetic smile, slowing his pace to a snail’s crawl. I inched my way into the room and gingerly perched on the end of my bed. The click of the lock was actually comforting.

  Drooping my head, I fought a fresh wave of tears. I didn’t want to dissolve. I wanted to focus on the fact that I’d seen Eric. He was in Las Vegas. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure why, but maybe...just maybe it was for me.

  A shaky laugh burst from my mouth, my lips forming their first genuine smile in what felt like months.

  “Please keep looking,” I whispered. “Don’t give up.”

  Closing my eyes, I gently lay back on my bed and curled to my side, imagining Eric’s arm tenderly weaving around me, wrapping me in a bubble where no one could hurt me again.

  24

  Eric

  My dreams remained murky and dark throughout the night. I was tossed in an ocean, surging over the waves. I kept flipping off my board, my body crashing below the surface as I struggled for air. Finally I’d pop free and gulp in some oxygen, only to be tugged below. I’d open my eyes beneath the salty water and be met by the girl with black hair and blue eyes. I tried to swim away from her but she chased me, her strokes long and fast. Grabbing my ankle, she kept screaming at me under the water, her bubbly cries growing desperate before she’d start to sink. My gut instinct was to dive after her, but the dream would always return to the beginning before I could.

  It wasn’t until the sky began to grow light and my body stirred out of slumber that I was able to take control of the dream. This time when she sank, I kicked hard and powered after her. The ocean grew dark around her falling figure, her pale hand outstretched to me...and then she opened her eyes. Her blue gaze punched through me, her head of dark hair finally floating free to reveal...

  “Caity.”

  I sat up, her name a whisper on my lips.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I rubbed them with my thumb and forefinger, trying to figure out the watery images. That girl with the black hair had been Caity all along. It wasn’t true, the dream was only conjuring my desire, but it was unsettling enough to get me out of bed.

  I checked my watch; it was just after six. Dad was still snoring softly into his pillow. I straightened out my clothes and snuck into the bathroom. Splashing some water on my face, I tied my hair into a low ponytail. A few hairs broke free and I tucked them behind my ear.

  Snatching up my phone, I paused at the door and hoped Dad wouldn’t be too pissed with me for leaving. Not that I should care or anything. I crept out of the room and flicked my hoodie up as I descended the stairs.

  I had no idea where I was going. I just wanted to be out in Vegas. I had a snowball’s chance in hell of finding Caity holed up in some motel room. I didn’t care that the city would only be rising. I needed to be out in it, looking.

  The morning air was crisp and refreshing. The sun was creeping up the horizon, hitting the tall buildings with a golden light. I walked the Strip, passing homeless people with their cardboard signs and groups of party animals that were stumbling to their beds after a night of revelry. One father was out with a stroller, looking sleep-deprived as he sipped his coffee.

  I started on the corner of the MGM Grand and the Tropicana. Stopping at a vendor, I bought myself a coffee and enjoyed the hot wake-me-up as I ambled past the large Coke bottle and the M&M store. Vegas was pretty damn cool. It would have been awesome to be there under different circumstances, enjoying what the city had to offer with a carefree Caity by my side. It hurt to think it may never happen.

  No, I couldn’t give in to that thought.

  She had to be around somewhere. My dreams told me so.

  I made it all the way to the Venetian before crossing over to The Mirage. Taking my time, I actually ducked into casinos, soaking in the non-stop atmosphere of Caesars Palace. That atrium with the blue, cloudy roof was cool. I meandered through, finding an access that took me straight to the Bellagio. Talk about high-class. The amount of money floating through that place must have been insane.

  I popped back onto the street, walking around the fountains. The sun was up and the sidewalk was starting to crowd with morning traffic. It felt a little safer than the night before. Tourist families were out with their young kids, taking photos beside the monuments.

  I saw lots of cheesy smiles and peace signs. Shaking my head with a melancholy smile, I stopped outside New York New York and admired the Brooklyn Bridge replica. Plonking down on the steps, I checked my watch. I’d been out for two hours, just cruising around. It was probably time for me to head back, but I wasn’t ready to go.

  My phone buzzed in my back pocket. Sliding it free, I read the screen.

  Where R U?

  It was Caity’s phone again. Rhodes was no doubt using it.

  Just walking the Strip and buying breakfast. Don’t worry, I’m being safe.

  I got no reply. I assumed Dad was huffing and scowling at Rhodes, who was probably shrugging and saying it was probably a harmless venture.

  Figuring I better stay true to my word, I popped into New York New York and grabbed myself a churro. Yeah, yeah, not the healthiest breakfast, but it meant I could eat and walk.

  I stepped back out into the sunshine and knew if I turned right I could cross the road and head back to the motel. But my body took me left, back to the point where I had spotted that black-haired girl. The chances of her being there were zip. Even if by some miracle she was, I couldn’t do much about it. Her sharp-faced boyfriend had looked like a pretty mean guy and then there was the gigantor standing with them. Like I could take him on.

  No, I had to save up my strength for whoever held Caity. I’d take on a tornado for her if I had to. If I saw her, nothing could stop me from getting to her.

  I crossed the road and paused. The Cleopatra girl had stood right there. I gazed down at the spot, picturing her thin figure and blue eyes, framed with that ebony hair. The image was so clear I felt like I could reach out and touch her.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket and then started ringing. I pulled it out.

  “Yeah.”

  “Finished your breakfast yet?” Dad snipped.

  I wiped the sugar crumbs off my lips. “Yeah.”

  “Then get your butt back here. Rhodes just got confirmation from his contact that the Carlotta girl at Friday night’s game matches Caity’s description and she was there with Santiago Gomez.”

  “The guy who owns the casino?”

  “Yes, which means Vera must have sold Caity to him. We need to make a plan.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. “I’m coming.”

  Hanging up, I shoved the phone back in my pocket, my nerves zinging with the idea that Caity was that much closer to me. I turned to head back to the motel and noticed that I was stand
ing right in front of Palacio del Diablo.

  “That’s his casino,” I mumbled.

  Before thought could stop me, I surged for the door.

  25

  Caitlyn

  Sleep was an illusion. I barely captured a wink. By the time Monique tenderly patched me up and tucked me into bed, I was a blubbering mess. In spite of my sheer elation that Eric was in Vegas, getting to him was going to be impossible. He hadn’t seen me on the street. What if he never found me? What if he tried, failed and then just gave up for good?

  Part of me knew he should. Being in this town was dangerous for him. What if Marchant spotted him? It was a slim chance, no doubt, but it was still a chance. The idea of Eric being captured and tortured made me want to throw up...which I did.

  Biggest mistake of my night.

  The throwing up just confirmed that Santiago’s thunder punch had probably fractured a couple of my ribs. By the time I was done, my tears were fueled by more than emotional angst. I was in agony.

  I couldn’t tell Monique any of my fears even though I wanted to. Both her masked and unmasked expression showed me how worried she was, but I couldn’t ease her fears. I was a mess.

  She made me take two Tylenol before easing out of the room.

  It didn’t help.

  Getting comfortable with a volleyball-sized bruise on one side of my ribcage and a swollen cheekbone on the other side of my face just added to my woes. It was a miserable night. I spent most of it lying awake in torment before falling into fitful dozes that never lasted long.

  Monique reappeared to dress me at seven.

  “Santiago wants you on security this morning.” She placed a tray of fresh fruit and buttered toast next to me and moved to open the curtains. I squinted at the sudden brightness, but it didn’t take long for my eyes to adjust. My shaky hand made straight for the steaming cup of coffee on the edge of the tray. Sitting back against the pillows with a hiss, I ignored Monique’s sympathetic smile and sipped at the brew. It was damn good. I wrapped my fingers around the mug.

  “You look pale.” Monique sat on the edge of the bed and reached for my forehead. Her cool hand reminded me of Mom, which only brought on a fresh wave of tears.

  I swiped at them, sick of the crying, wincing as I brushed my tender cheek.

  Monique reached for me again, but I flinched away.

  Her smile was sad. Tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear, she played with her earring. I could see on her face she was waiting for me to open up, but there were no words. I couldn’t think straight enough to talk. I was exhausted and broken. The last thing I felt like doing was security on the casino floor, but I couldn’t refuse. The aches in my body told me that.

  I pressed my lips together and looked away from her.

  With a gentle sigh she stood and moved to the closet, pulling out a pair of black pants and a fitted powder blue, button-down shirt. She laid it on the bed. “Once you’ve finished your coffee, I’ll get you ready.” Standing back, she studied me with her sweet, little face. “Don’t be too long. I’m going to have to take extra care with your makeup this morning. The bruise on your cheek isn’t too dark, but it will still take a little time to hide it.”

  I nodded and focused back on my drink. It scorched my throat, but I didn’t care. It felt good somehow.

  Although she’d told me to hurry, I took my time and forced a slice of toast into my stomach, as well. I was still shaky as I rose from the bed. Monique helped me lift off my T-shirt, gasping softly at the deep purple bruise on my torso.

  It freaking hurt.

  My stomach was still sore from Bruno’s metallic fist, but Santiago’s knuckles... I looked in the mirror, running my fingers gingerly over the inky contusion.

  “It’s best to stay on his good side.” Monique held out the shirt for me.

  I humphed, sliding it on carefully before pulling out my hair. I hissed again. Every movement hurt.

  “Just relax.” She eased me into the vanity chair. “You need to keep your movements as minimal as possible. The bruise will heal.”

  “I feel like my ribs are broken.” I gritted my teeth and buttoned up the shirt.

  “They probably are.” She nodded. “Santiago has not given me permission to strap them, but I can go and ask him.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She touched my shoulder and silently asked me if I was sure.

  “Just do my makeup already.”

  I could tell she didn’t like snappy Caity, but I had nothing to give her. I couldn’t be a kind, good soul today; I just had to survive.

  Monique hunched in front of me and got to work on my face. I kept my eyes on the mirror, staring out the window behind me. My vision grew fuzzy the longer I looked, but I couldn’t break free.

  Images of Eric plagued me while Monique made me look like something I wasn’t. There was no wig, thankfully, but the heavy foundation, thick eyeliner and dark lipstick still made me feel like a phony.

  “That looks good.” Monique stepped back to admire her work. “People will have to look pretty closely to see that bruise, and most of them will be too distracted with betting to even notice you.” She grinned.

  I forced a smile back at her and rose from my chair, swallowing down the grimace as pain laced through my side.

  “You can do this.” Monique squeezed my arm. “You are strong enough to handle this. You will survive.”

  There was that acceptance again, that resigned smile on her soft lips.

  I couldn’t help wondering if Gabriel had anything to do with her attitude. Maybe if Eric was here with me, it wouldn’t be so bad.

  The thought made me snicker. As if. Eric would never let anybody turn him into a slave. He’d rather die.

  I pressed my lips together and swallowed hard. I’d cried enough tears, and I couldn’t let Santiago see my anguish.

  Clearing my throat, I put on my bland poker face and walked for the door. I wanted to whisper a thank you to Monique for taking such good care of me, but I needed to stay hard if I was going to make it through the day.

  Lifting my chin, I walked out of the room and found Sal waiting for me by the gold elevator. I stepped in and kept my eyes straight ahead.

  “Is there anything specific I’m looking for today?” I asked.

  “He wants you watching the dealers this morning. Since you caught that guy last week, he’s been on the prowl.”

  I huffed a breath out my nose.

  Sal gave me a sidelong glance, but he knew what I meant. Like I wanted to sentence any more cheaters to death.

  “It’s you or them,” Sal mumbled, rolling his shoulders.

  The elevator pinged open and we stepped out. I scanned the slot machines and looked to Sal before descending the three stairs onto the main floor. We’d no doubt follow the same path we did the last couple of times. I wanted to keep my eyes downcast and just get on with it, but I couldn’t do that.

  Resolved to the fact I didn’t want to suffer another power punch or be subjected to whatever Bruno had planned for me, I lifted my gaze and gasped.

  Eric.

  There he was.

  Standing less than ten feet away...and staring right at me.

  It took him a second to register, like somehow I couldn’t possibly be real, but then his eyes rounded and he moved toward me.

  By that time, Sal had jerked in my direction, nudging my elbow to ask if I was okay.

  I nodded stupidly and turned away from Eric, heading in the opposite direction.

  It killed me to do it, but Sal would pummel Eric into the ground if he found out he was my boyfriend here on some rescue mission. Sal may be nicer than Bruno, but he was loyal to Santiago.

  It felt like a week ago all over again, except this time I didn’t have Kaplan in my ear and I wouldn’t be yelling at Eric that I didn’t want him. I did, with a passion, but I had to play it right or the love of my life was destined for a shack in the desert.

  26

/>   Eric

  She turned away from me. I had to clench my jaw to stop from swearing and tearing after the guy beside her with every fist and foot I could pound him with.

  Gramps’ voice whispered in my head, “Keep cool, son. Don’t let that rage stop you from thinking straight.”

  I sniffed in a sharp breath and followed after Caity.

  I couldn’t believe I’d found her. My emotions were surging with elation then plummeting back into anger before cresting on a wave of relief.

  She was there. She was alive.

  Following her and Brutus, I tried to keep my distance and not look overly suspicious. The guy glanced behind him a couple of times as we meandered through the swanky bar. I made sure to dip my head and turned toward the bar, leaning against it as I waited for the bartender. The second Caity was guided through the next entrance I shifted after them. Her body stiffened as she wove through the seedy, dark area. A husky voice that reminded me of an old-woman-smoker filled the room. I wrinkled my nose and kept my eyes on Caity.

  She kept fidgeting with her drop earrings, a sure sign she was edgy, but for people who didn’t know her, they probably wouldn’t pick up on her little idiosyncrasies.

  I smiled, feeling the privilege of knowing them all.

  I had to get her out of this place.

  We walked beneath an archway labelled Fortuna and their pace slowed considerably. I dropped back a little, stopping at the roulette wheel to watch a spin. I could see Caity out of the corner of my eye.

  She scratched her left shoulder, stealing a glance in my direction.

  Our eyes kissed and I gave her a smile.

  She jerked away from it, biting her lower lip and scanning the players around her. She looked up to Sal and gave a brief nod before moving on to the next table.

  I was trying to figure out what she was doing, and I finally got it.

  She was scanning each game for cheaters. I kept a close eye on her as she shifted to the right. She was walking behind the big guy now and turned to look straight at me. Her finger flicked skyward before she smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. I looked up and noticed the bathroom sign.