“You—Ah!” I threw my hands in the air. “How could you do something so stupid! Take money when you didn’t even know where it came from?”
She swallowed. “It felt right. I can’t explain why, but I did it. I haven’t seen my parents since I was eighteen. I ran away after high school and that was it.”
I balked at the news.
“There was no love lost, believe me.” She looked to the floor and I wished for Caity. I needed her eyes...on both my parents.
“You told me they were dead,” I muttered.
“They are to me.”
My eyes bulged with disbelief and I couldn’t hamper my legs a second more. I paced to the edge of the room and back, feeling like a caged animal.
Liars! I was surrounded by them!
“Look, none of that matters now.” Dad sat forward on the couch. “All I care about is getting you guys somewhere safe. Marchant’s men are not going to give up, not to mention the San Diego Police. They’ll be onto the shooting at Gramps’ house by now. They’re going to come looking for you guys, asking questions, and we can’t have that kind of attention.”
“Aren’t the police there to help us?”
“Marchant’s bigger than the SDPD. He’s French mafia and...deadly. We need to disappear, get out of the country.”
“No way. I told you, I’m not leaving without Caity.”
“Where is she?” Mom sat forward, gripping the chair as she took in my pale expression.
“I don’t know,” I croaked.
“You don’t...” She frowned. “Eric, what’s going on?”
“Shayna.” Dad moved to her side, taking both her hands.
She gazed down at him and I didn’t need Caity to see the affection she still held towards him. I scowled and paced back to the window.
“Baby, I need to get you away from here. I can’t...” Dad swallowed. “I can’t let him hurt you.”
I spun in time to see Mom gently smile as she lightly ran her fingers down his face. “Remember how we used to dream of traveling the world, going all the way to New Zealand and back?” Her smile was watery, her lips quivering.
“Yeah, I remember.” Dad grinned, kissing the inside of her wrist. “I can take you there. You’ll be safe and Marchant can’t touch you.”
I scoffed. “She’s not going to New Zealand! That’s ridiculous. We can’t just run away. What, she’s supposed to just buy in to what you’re saying and drop her whole life? What about Cliff? What about her daughters!”
Dad ignored me, holding Mom’s gaze with some kind of super power. “I know it will hurt, but this thing will blow over eventually and then you can come back. The girls are safe with their father and you can—” He grimaced. “You can get a note or something to—to Cliff.”
I shook my head, wanting to scream.
“I can’t lose you, Shay.” He gripped her hand, his thumb running soft circles over her wrist.
I thought she was about to start purring! Her expression melted to putty and I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“You did lose her!” I pointed at him. “The day you walked away and never came back. That was it for us! You don’t deserve a second chance; she’s moved on!”
“Eric, shut your mouth.” Dad rose, looking at me with that calm gaze of his.
I wanted to punch him again. “You put us in this position. You—you’re an asshole and we don’t need you!”
“Yes, we do.” Mom’s voice was soft as she stood beside Dad, threading her fingers through his. “But Eric’s right about the girls. Will they be safe?”
Dad held his breath for a moment before letting out a short sigh. “Marchant wants his money back...and even though he thinks I'm dead, he wants my family to pay. Those girls aren't my family. He won't be interested in them, but I’m still going to make sure he can't touch any of us.”
“What are you going to do?” She gripped his arm.
He ran his fingers through his floppy hair. “As soon as you and Eric are someplace safe, I’m going to resurrect myself and return his cash.”
“No.” Mom shook her head. “You can’t do that. He’ll kill you.”
“Shayna, baby, it’s okay. All that matters is that you and Eric are safe.”
I rolled my eyes and groaned.
Dad threw me a sharp look.
I met it head on. “Safe? If you wanted to keep us safe, you should have stayed the hell away.”
“I did!” He finally snapped, the calm facade being pushed aside. “I’ve stayed in the shadows for the last eight years trying to assure that Marchant could never connect anything back to you or your mother.”
“Then how the hell did he find us?” I threw my arms wide.
“I don’t know,” Dad barked. “Something alerted him. I can’t figure out what triggered all of this, but somehow he managed to find out that Antonio Costa was my fake ID. Somehow he uncovered a trail that I have spent years trying to hide.” The desperation in Dad’s voice sounded so genuine.
I had no response and so he kept going, his voice sounding more broken.
“It must have been some hacking genius that unearthed it. The thing I can’t figure out is that my Antonio backstory was solid. I was a single man with no ties and he thinks I’m dead, so why would he start looking?”
An awkward silence followed his question. Nobody had any answers. Mom’s quiet sniffle was the only thing to break the heavy stillness.
Dad’s voice was only just a whisper. “I know I’ve let you guys down repeatedly, but I tried to make it right and I stayed away to keep it right, but now Marchant knows and he’s going to be looking for major payback. I refuse to let that happen to you guys.” He turned to Mom, appealing to the major soft spot she obviously still had for him. “Please, let me get you out of here.”
Mom pressed her lips together, fresh tears covering her cheeks. “Okay.” Her head bobbed. “Okay, let’s go.”
“No.” I stood my ground, pulling back my shoulders. “I told you, I’m not leaving without Caity.”
“Please, Eric.” Mom closed her eyes. “Just—Let’s go and when this is over, we can come back for Caity.”
With a pitiful laugh, I shook my head. It felt like a useless endeavor trying to explain my crisis to either of them. They didn’t want to hear it, just as much as I didn’t want to tell it.
I walked to the door.
“Eric!” Mom warned. I turned back and gave her a silent farewell then walked out before she could say more.
She screamed my name a couple of times, forcing me into a run. I was in my jeep and screaming out of the parking lot before Dad could even get down the stairs.
Chapter 7
Caitlyn
I took my time in the shower. At first I was scrubbing quickly, hating the idea of being naked anywhere near these lecherous men, but then I remembered the locked door and Sal standing watch, and my body started to relax. The hot spray soaked into my aching muscles and as the glass fogged over, I felt safe in my little cocoon. I savored the feeling, knowing it would end eventually.
My fingers were just turning prune-like when there was a thumping at the door. I covered my chest, flicking off the shower and pressing myself into the wall.
“Your time is up! Santiago is waiting for you.”
It was Sal. Thankfully, his deep voice didn’t frighten me the way Santiago’s did.
“O-okay. I’m getting out.”
I snatched the towel off the railing and pulled it back into the warm stall, wrapping it around myself securely before venturing into the room.
Much to my relief it was empty. I rushed to put on the clothes and black pumps left for me. Having not bothered to dry properly, it was an effort to pull the tight pants up over my damp skin, but I managed. The shirt I’d been left was black and fitted. By the time I was dressed, I looked like the back-stage crew at some rock concert. In spite of the tightness of the pants, the clothes felt a hell of a lot safer than that gold dress, so I wasn’t about to complain. Towe
l-drying my hair, I used my fingers to undo the tangles and quickly gave up, running into the bathroom to hunt for a brush.
I found a wide-tooth comb, perfect for my hair. I pulled it through my large curls and arranged them as neatly as I could. Sal was soon pounding on my door again.
“Hurry up!”
I leaned towards the mirror to quickly study my face. My cheek was still a little puffy, but there was no black and blue bruising. People would have to look pretty closely to spot anything.
I stepped into the room just as Sal opened the door.
“I’m ready.” I forced a smile as he looked me up and down.
Taking my arm, he pulled me out of the room. “It is never a good idea to keep Mr. Gomez waiting.”
“I’m sorry. You won’t get in trouble, will you?”
He looked down at me and I ripped off his mask. There was a sadness in his expression, a pain that was buried deep. I didn’t have time to unearth the layers, but I was comforted to know that the man had no interest in hurting me. He worked for Santiago Gomez and he was loyal, but he wasn’t sadistic and I felt myself relax just a little more. If Santiago kept him as my guard, I was going to be okay.
Sal led me to the elevator and the doors pinged open to reveal Bruno. His right eyebrow arched as Sal guided me in...and then he stepped back.
“You’re not coming with me?” I tried to keep the fear out of my voice, but it was damn near impossible.
“Bruno will accompany you from here.” Sal’s mask was still off and I didn’t miss the slight cringe just before the doors slid shut.
I subtly took a step away from Bruno, but it didn’t work. The second the elevator began dropping, he pushed me against the wall, grinding into me.
“Let me go.” I hated the way my voice shook. I didn’t want him to sense my fear. “I have a deal with Santiago. You have to respect it.” My words were short and punchy.
Bruno smirked, thrusting his hips against me.
“He’ll see you,” I snapped. “Casinos have cameras everywhere.”
“Not in Santiago’s private elevator,” he sniggered.
My breath evaporated, my lips parting before I could stop them.
The delight he took in my expression was repulsive. I hardened my gaze, willing him not to reach back and press the emergency stop button.
His leering eyes stayed on my face as he ran the back of his finger down my cheek. “I know what my uncle said to you at breakfast this morning. I am very much looking forward to you making a mistake.” He dropped his hand, grabbing my butt and giving it a tight squeeze. “You’ll be like an early Christmas present,” he whispered in my ear, lightly licking my lobe before pulling away from me.
I stayed against the wall, my fingers pressed into the shiny black interior, my heart banging so erratically I could almost feel the pending heart attack.
Bruno straightened his jacket and turned to face the front. The elevator stopped at the second floor and he grabbed my arm, pulling me out with a roughness that I could see he loved.
It was an effort to stop my mind from shattering. I had to keep head-strong in order to survive this, but all I could imagine was me slipping up, not being what Santiago wanted and then...
I stole a look at Bruno’s profile, my imagination flying so wild it actually paralyzed me. My legs buckled and he hauled me back up, throwing me a confused scowl.
He kept up a quick pace and I wobbled along beside him. A few strides later, we stopped outside a frosted glass door. Bruno punched a number into the black keypad and we entered a quiet room that buzzed with the gentle, yet frenetic, hum of a security room.
I took in the wall-to-wall monitors, watching black and white, fuzzy people mulling about the casino. I’d never seen so many screens in my life. I didn’t know how they monitored them all.
Santiago turned as the door behind us clicked shut.
“Ah! My prize. Come.” He flicked his hand, indicating I step further into the room.
Security guards eyed me curiously, but one look from Bruno and their heads snapped back to the screens.
Taking me by the elbow, Santiago walked me further into the room.
“This is my security hub.” He spread his arms, pride flashing over his features.
“Yes, I can see that.”
He didn’t appreciate my dry reply. I swallowed and forced a smile to counter his dark glare.
Clearing my throat, I reclaimed my elbow from his grasp and turned to scan the rest of the room. “Why did you bring me in here?”
Leaning down to my ear, he whispered. “I want you to use your eyes. I need you to read faces and tell me if there are any cheaters in my casino.”
He pointed at the screens and my stomach sank.
“You want me to—” I pointed in line with his fingers. “I can’t. There are too many.”
“Oh, I know, I know. This is a test, my dear.” He smiled. “Look at the black jack table over there.”
Placing his hand on my lower back, he guided me towards monitor #58.
“That man in the pale jacket has been playing the same table for nearly three hours, with a few short breaks. He is doing remarkably well, but I cannot see any cheating.” Santiago looked disappointed. “I want you to read him for me.”
“Okay.” I cleared my throat and gazed at the screen, squinting and trying to peel back the layers.
It didn’t work.
I bit my lower lip and tried again, leaning towards the screen and straining to pull off his mask.
Still nothing.
Scanning the other people in the fuzzy shot, I tried to do the same, but nothing.
“Well?” Santiago nudged me.
“I can’t...” I shook my head. “It’s not working. I can’t take his mask off.”
Santiago’s eyes narrowed, his mask-less face showing me a hot, quick anger. I spoke into it before it had time to explode.
“I think it must be the screens. I can’t read people over a monitor. I need to see their faces...in person.”
My quick answer seemed to appease him a little. Crossing his arms, his bottom lip stuck out for a moment and finally, he nodded.
“Okay.” He clicked his fingers. The security guard closest to him jumped in his seat. “Yes, sir.”
“Call Sal down. I want him to take Carlotta for a walk around the casino floor.”
“Yes, sir.” The security guard picked up his phone and put in the call.
I pinched my hands together, hoping like hell my TV monitor theory was right. Feeling a presence behind me, I flinched and looked over my shoulder.
Bruno was staring down at me, an arrogant smirk perched on his lips.
“Let’s hope you’re right.” He ran his finger down my arm. “It’d be a shame for you to fail a test so quickly.”
I stepped away from him, nearly crashing into Santiago.
He spun around to see what was going on but much to my disgust, Santiago didn’t even flinch. With a frown, I threw on Bruno’s mask to double-check my suspicions and saw his expression was one of pure innocence.
I bit the inside of my cheek and silently seethed.
Santiago eyed us both carefully and turned back to listen to the security guard.
I stayed where I was, keeping my eyes on the screen as I waited for Sal, but all I could feel was Bruno’s desire. It pulsed towards me in waves so thick and strong, I wanted to faint.
Chapter 8
Eric
I drove in a blur. I didn’t even have a final destination in mind; I just wanted to get away from everything I’d heard in that motel room.
Mom lying to me about the trust fund. What the hell was up with that? And how the hell hadn’t I figured it out before! I’d never met my grandparents, so why would they leave a trust fund to Mom that she only got access to when I was fifteen? I was a stupid, dumb kid too caught up in my rage to fit any of the pieces together.
And Dad...what the hell!
Conning some guy out of five hundred thou
sand dollars then faking his death and going into hiding. It was the kind of shit you saw in movies. This stuff didn’t happen in real life.
I screeched to a halt at the stop sign, nearly taking out an irate pedestrian. I raised my hand in apology, which she barely accepted, shaking her head and stomping across the road.
I eased across the intersection and slowed my pace, my mind still a maelstrom. I couldn’t wrap my head around it all. My parents were obviously still in love, which for some reason creeped me out big time. Had Mom known? Had she and Dad been secretly communicating all this time?
I smacked the wheel with my hand.
Screw them!
They could run off to New Zealand if they wanted to, I didn’t care.
I wasn’t going anywhere with them.
Caity.
She was the only good, pure thing left in my life. I could forgive her lies about working undercover because I knew this thing must have been a big deal. There’s no way she would have taken it on if it hadn’t meant helping someone in need. This whole thing was probably saving lives somehow and that’s what scared me. Caity was the kind of girl who never put herself first. She’d do anything to help anyone and that’s how I knew she was in trouble.
I needed to find her.
As if hearing my thoughts, my phone began to buzz. I snatched it off the dashboard and read the screen, jerking to the side of the road and parking askew against the curb.
“Sullivan. Tell me something good.” My hopeful greeting was met with a pause that only filled me with dread. “What?”
“I wish I could. I...don’t have much, I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes and hit my head on the back of the seat. “Well, what do you have?”
He sighed. “I’ve spoken to Kaplan and she...” He clicked his tongue. “Look, she’s saying that she hasn’t spoken to Caity since the Hoffman case. She had no idea what I was talking about.”
“That’s bullshit!” My head jerked off the seat.
“Yeah, I, uh, actually think you’re right. She was really snappy and cold. Even more so than normal. I don’t know, I kind of got this guilty vibe. I feel like she’s lying.”
Poker Face (The Masks Series Book 4) Page 4
