She slid off the stool and followed him to where a few guys were milling around watching. They parted like the Red Sea to let her in, and one even went to get her a chair.
As the game progressed, it was easy to see how it would play out. His opponent was pitiful, but old Dominic was decent. Maybe even good.
Luckily, she was better.
He ran the last three balls on the table, neatly pocketing the eight ball before strutting around the table like a proud rooster.
Sadie clapped excitedly and jumped up from her chair.
“Wow. You’re great,” she cooed as he sidled closer, folding a small wad of cash. “And money too? How much did you win?”
“Just now? Couple hundred. But I’ve been winning all night,” he said with a wink, pocketing the cash. He handed the cue out to her. “You play?”
She shrugged. “A little. But I’m not that good, and I don’t want to lose all my money.”
“Aw, sweetie, I’ll go easy on you,” he said, his lips parting into a slick grin. “We’ll play for fifty bucks. But,” he looked around the room before leaning in to whisper, “if I win, I’m happy to take it out in trade, if you know what I mean.”
She slid off the stool and strolled over to the pool table. “Fifty bucks…or a trade,” she said, tossing her red hair over her shoulder coquettishly. “You’ve got a deal.”
The competitive side of her always hated this part. It took everything she had to bang the ball into the rails and miss on purpose. It bordered on torture, not being able to line up a series of shots and hear the snick of the ball as it slid into the pocket each time. She could hear her father in her ear even now, as she scratched for the second time in as many shots.
“Patience, girlie. You just gotta wait for it.”
When her turn came again, she bent low, acutely aware that Dominic was right behind her, gaze locked on the mini-skirt climbing perilously close to her ass cheeks. “I think I’m getting better.”
“I don’t think it can get much better than that,” he said, his voice gravelly, and she knew he was talking about the view.
She fought back the bile rising in her throat and took her shot, missing by just an inch this time. When she straightened, she noted the wolfish look was now rabid.
He picked up his cue and finished her off as she played her part, taking her beating with a smile.
“Good game, Dom. Gosh, you’re a great player.”
He nodded and moved closer. “So what’s it going to be, doll? You gonna give me fifty,” he moved his hand to his crotch and squeezed, “or am I gonna give you a solid eight?”
The guys who gathered around all laughed uproariously, and she even managed a chuckle to hide her gag.
“Did we agree on fifty?” she said, as he suddenly pulled her close. She gasped as his hot breath washed over her cheek. “I’m pretty sure fifty only gets you a kiss and maybe a pat over the clothes, Dom. I gotta tell you, I’m worth a shitload more than fifty bucks.”
His eyes went hard, like two chips of coal, and he looked like he was about to argue, but then he let his gaze travel over her body and nodded reluctantly.
“All right, you got a point there. Let’s play another game. You win, you keep your fifty bucks. I win, you’re mine. All of you, all night, however I want you.”
She let out a laugh, finally allowing herself to pull away. “However you want, huh? We almost have a deal, Dom. But if I win, fifty won’t cut it. I get all of this,” she reached into his pocket, her hand lingering near his crotch. She knew she had him when his eyes went from hard to hot on a dime. Then she pulled out the stash of money and slapped it on the side of the pool table.
“Deal?”
He laughed at her, clearly thinking that it didn’t matter what he was risking, because she’d never beat him. The quickly thickening crowd around them laughed right along with him. “Deal. Either way, baby, you win,” he said with a smirk.
Her stomach flopped again, but she pushed the words past her lips. “Promises, promises.” She grabbed the cue and nodded in his direction, “Rack ‘em.”
He did, and she got into breaking stance. When she let the cue ball fly, it hit its mark with a resounding crack, sending three balls careening into different holes and spreading the rest across the table.
“Nice break,” Dom said, his smile a little tighter than it had been moments before.
She didn’t bother to respond as she went to work. The next five minutes went by in a whirlwind as everything in the room fell away and she sank into the zone.
She couldn’t miss.
Snick.
Snick.
Snick.
Unlike a typical hustle, there was no need to sandbag, or miss a few shots to pretend she was just getting lucky. She wanted him to know he’d gotten played, and knew full well he wasn’t going to let her get far with his money.
In fact, she was banking on it.
His expression grew angrier with every shout of glee and guffaw from his comrades, and with each passing minute. Luckily, it didn’t take long to completely humiliate the strutting him, and when she finally looked up as she sunk the eight ball, there it was.
The perma-scowl. The malice. The violence brewing behind those cold eyes.
“I guess I win,” she said with an innocent smile, reaching for the money.
“Like hell,” he said, grabbing for her hand.
The guy who’d gotten her the chair stepped up and shook his head slowly at Dom. “She got you good, Dom. You lost fair and square.”
Dominic’s rage shifted for the briefest of moments to the other man, and Sadie took the opening. She quickly stuffed the money into her purse and gave the men a wave.
“I have to hit the little girls’ room, but I’ll be back in a jiff if one of y’all want next. Put up your quarters.”
Every man within earshot began digging through their pockets as she made her way toward the ladies’ room. She could feel Dom’s eyes on her and knew as well as he did that they weren’t done yet.
She bypassed the ladies’ room and headed toward the back exit, heart hammering.
For the first time since she’d walked into the bar, she felt actual, blood-chilling fear. Everything to this point had gone to plan, but this part? She was going to need a little luck to pull it off if she didn’t want a shiner to match Monica’s.
Or worse.
She reached a hand into her purse and darted out to hide directly to the right of the doorway. Like clockwork, not ten seconds later, Dom came barreling through, chest heaving, fists clenched.
“Where are you, you fucking bitch?”
“Right here, asshole,” she muttered as she lifted the hand holding the stun-gun and pressed it to his side. She pressed the button and her world shrank to the size of a pinprick as nothing happened.
His meaty hand wrapped firmly around her wrist and yanked it hard. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Horror rocketed through her as he wrenched her arm over her head and pinned her against the wall, using his body to crowd her. He slammed her arm against the brick wall, and her elbow connected with a crunch, sending a searing pain down her arm. She tried to hold it, but the stun-gun fell to the gravel with a clatter.
“You were going to shock me, you cunt?” he demanded, spittle flecking her cheeks as he closed his free hand over her throat, crushing her windpipe. She gasped for air but there was none to be had as starbursts clouded her vision. All she could see was his red, rage-filled face...that suddenly morphed into the solemn face of her father.
When in doubt, girlie, kick 'em in the balls and run.
She closed her eyes and gathered the last of her strength. Then, she plowed her knee into his crotch with all her might. She wrenched herself away as he doubled over. She dove to the ground and grabbed ahold of the stun-gun, a prayer on her lips.
Please, God. Please work.
Just as he lunged for her again, she speared him in the ribs and pressed the button. He fro
ze and then, with a low, guttural moan, fell to the ground in a convulsing heap.
Adrenaline coursed through her in nauseating waves as she sat there for a moment, stunned and gasping.
She was alive. It had been a close call, but damn it, she was alive.
She allowed herself exactly ten seconds to celebrate the fact and get some much-needed oxygen into her burning lungs, then she sprang into action.
His body was still twitching as she rolled him onto his back and riffled through the pockets of his cargo shorts. It was all there: Monica’s phone, her car keys with the cheap little Roberto’s restaurant key chain holding them together, and her credit cards.
Sadie shoved it all into her purse and then stood right as Dominic lurched up toward her. She let out a curse and dove a hand into her purse again, this time grabbing a canister of pepper spray. She delivered a full shot of the stuff straight into his face, and thanked god that the wailing of the jukebox was louder than his wail of pain.
She blocked out the gagging and curses that followed her as she stuffed her weapons back into her bag, slipped off her heels and made a mad dash for her car. Her elbow began to throb as she yanked the door open and leapt in, pulse pounding.
It was all okay.
She’d gotten Monica’s stuff back, and she would live to tell the tale. She turned the key in the ignition, shaking with relief. Now, all she had to do was—
The sputtering cough of the engine stopped her thoughts dead.
“No, no, no, no…” She frantically pumped the gas as her throat went tight. When the smell of gas tickled her nose she knew it was over.
Flooded.
Half-dead Fred had really screwed her this time.
She stared out the window sightlessly, the weight on her chest growing with each passing second.
What the hell was she going to do now? She had fifteen minutes before Dom was mobile, if she was lucky. She could run and hail a cab down the block, but that would mean leaving her car behind, giving Dom a chance to get her plate number and registration information.
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath.
And then she reached for the phone and dialed the number of the only person she trusted enough to help her.
12
Jake glanced at the clock on his desk and let his finger hover over the dial button with a muttered oath.
He and Sadie were partners --at least in this…at least for now-- and if they wanted to do it right, it made perfect sense that he’d touch base again before the big day.
Only that's not why you're calling her, is it, ya' stupid git?
Nope, he was calling her because he hadn't been able to get her out of his head since last night and she hadn’t called him yet. Hell, if he was being honest, that had pretty much been the case since he'd first laid eyes on her. He'd been in such a dark place for so long and, as confounding as she'd been the majority of the time, she was also the bright spot in his day. Whether she was leaping from balconies, kneeing him in the balls, or screwing his brains out, he found himself thinking of her after the fact, and smiling.
How twisted was that?
But when she’d gone tear-assing out of his house not ten minutes after they’d had sex, he could only assume she wasn’t on the same page.
What was the old saying, though? No guts, no glory.
He was about to hit the call button when his phone lit up.
Sadie.
“Hello,” he said.
"Jake?" She sounded frazzled and hoarse, and his muscles went tense.
“Is everything all right?”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Um, not so good right now, actually."
“What’s going on?”
“Can you come down to Scooter’s Bar? I’m in the back parking lot. I’m so sorry to ask but…I need your help. Right away.”
The urgency in her tone had him gripping the phone tighter. “Leaving now.”
He should’ve hesitated, but there was no scenario he could imagine himself saying no, so he opted to save time and ask questions later. Still, he couldn’t deny the sinking feeling in his gut.
There was no question this could all be a set up. After all this time, all he and Sadie had done, he could have been her true mark from the beginning.
He couldn't deny, the thought rankled, settling over him like a black cloud. But the sound of Sadie's voice --on the fine edge of panic-- had him striding toward the front door, car keys in hand.
So he might be a fool. Wouldn't be the first time. And the thought of Sadie in real trouble was far more concerning than the thought that she might get some of his money. He'd never been in this for the money anyway.
He charged out of the house like Satan was on his heels, muttering under his breath the entire way. What if she was hurt? Or in some sort of trouble he couldn't get her out of?
He thrust the negative thoughts aside as he climbed into his car and gunned the engine. It was a ten-minute drive, but he made it in six. By the time he got there, the back of his neck had broken out into a cold sweat.
He pulled into the parking lot of the bar, bypassing the crowded front lot and slowly curled around to the mostly vacant back lot. It was poorly lit in comparison to the garish neon lights that dotted the little dive. He slowed to a crawl, scanning the few cars until his eyes lit on the silhouette of a woman waving him over.
Sadie.
He blew out a harsh breath as relief coursed through him.
Whatever she'd found herself in the middle of, she was still upright and apparently unharmed, which was the best he could have hoped for. Now, if they could both leave the parking lot that way, he'd call this one a win.
He pulled up behind her car and popped the vehicle into park, leaving it running as he stepped out. Gravel crunched beneath his heels as he made his way toward where she stood. She pointed to a large man who was sprawled out flat on his back groaning.
"What happened?” he asked, closing the distance between them until he was just a couple feet away.
She shook her head slowly.
"I fucked up, Jake," she whispered miserably. “I let my feelings get in the way, and I broke the rules.”
He took in her appearance, scanning her from head to toe. She was wearing a long, red wig that would've looked ridiculous on anyone else but only managed to make her look like a Scottish Queen, so far outside her realm in a shithole like this. She'd donned a black, leather skirt, short enough to pass for a napkin, and had topped it off with a tank top that clung to her curves like maple syrup on a spoon. But it wasn't the wig or the clothes that had his blood pressure soaring.
It was the bright red ring around her neck.
"What the fuck did he do to you?" he demanded. The man on the ground wriggled and groaned and Jake made a move toward him, the rage settling over him making his vision go hazy.
"No, no!" Sadie gripped his forearm and he stilled. "He didn't do anything I hadn't expected. He was just faster than I thought and he got the drop on me. It’s fine. We’ve just got to get out of here."
He tried to let her words calm him, but the sight of the welts already starting to form on her graceful neck made him want to commit murder. "So, what? Did he think he was your boyfriend? Or was it a hustle gone bad?"
She shrugged her shoulders and let her gaze flicker away. "Something like that."
Jake ground his teeth together, barely resisting the urge to shout at her. They were in the middle of a parking lot with a guy who had clearly suffered some sort of foul play. He needed to get her out of here, now.
“Get in my car.”
“But I can’t leave my car here, I-”
“I’ll have a flatbed here in ten minutes,” he snarled, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up as he stalked toward the bar. “Just get in the fucking car.”
He didn’t wait to see if she obeyed his command. His attention was locked on the man who was slowly rising to his feet, coughing and spitting.
“Is that y
our bitch?” he demanded, stumbling toward Jake, tears streaming down his face. “She stole money from me and she ain’t getting away with it.”
His words were slurred, and he was still obviously disoriented, so Jake almost felt bad hitting him.
Almost.
But all he had to do was recall the marks on Sadie’s neck, and the pity evaporated under the heat of his anger.
His fist whipped out in one lightning fast strike, and the bastard toppled like the sack of shit he was. Jake bent low and grabbed the guy by the ankles, dragging him around the side of the building near the dumpster.
By the time he returned to his car, Sadie was sitting inside it, chewing her bottom lip as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” she murmured, wheeling around to face him. “I never meant for you to get involved in that. You have to believe me.”
He was silent as he reached for his phone and punched in a number.
“Jake here. I need you to come down to Scooter’s on Lexington and pick up a car. Five hundred bucks if you get here in the next ten minutes.” He rattled off the details, and then turned the key in the ignition as he set down the phone again.
“We should get you to a hospital. Let them check you out.”
“No!” She reached for his arm and gripped it tight. “Please, no. I’m fine. It looks worse than it is and I hate hospitals.”
He opted not to push her on that until he got a closer look at her injury in better light.
“You want to tell me what went down back there?”
She pulled her hand away and moved to buckle her seatbelt. “Do I have a choice?” she asked softly.
“I think, given now that I’ve aided and abetted whatever crime you committed, that no. You don’t have a choice.”
She flinched at the heat in his tone and nodded slowly. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you it’s just that, I know when I say it out loud, it’s going to sound even stupider than I thought.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
He listened with growing shock as she filled him in on all the details. Her words came out in one toneless rush, like she was reciting a serial number from a box, but that didn’t make the story any less awful.
The Family Jewels Page 11
