Poker Face (The Masks Series Book 4)

by Melissa Pearl

  “I’ll call you as soon as I get anything.”

  I nodded and watched him walk out of the diner. Dad stood and went to pay the bill.

  When he got back to the table, he hitched up his jeans. “I left her a decent tip. I figured she deserved it after putting up with all our bullshit.”

  I snorted out a short laugh and shuffled out of the booth seat.

  Dad followed me to the car.

  “Where do you want me to drop you?”

  “I’m sticking with you, buddy.”

  “Dad, this is not happening. I don’t need a puppy nipping at my heels.” I yanked out my keys.

  “Eric, wait!”

  With a sigh, I turned, feeling like a petulant teenager.

  His expression was dark, but his voice remained even. “I know this sucks for you right now, but I’m telling you, kid, you have to be careful. I’m not going anywhere and I don’t want you sleeping at your place tonight.”

  “Dad...”

  “No!” He held up his hand to stop me. “We are not having this conversation again. You might not give a shit about your welfare, but I do, and if you don’t watch your back, you’re going to end up like Gramps.”

  I blinked, grinding my teeth together. “I’m not going into hiding. You know I have to find Caity, so would you shut the hell up about the Moochan guy!”

  “Marchant! Lucian Marchant and no, I won’t shut up about him.” Dad banged the hood of the car. “The way you feel about finding Caity is the way I feel about protecting you. I’ve been doing it for the last eight years and I won’t stop now. Marchant will not give up and like hell am I gonna let him get to you.”

  “I’m not running from this!”

  “I respect that, but I’m asking you to please show a little caution. You don’t know this guy; you don’t know what he’s capable of. If he gets to you, you’ll never see Caity again, and who do you think’s going to look for her when you’re gone? You want Rhodes swooping in and saving the day? She doesn’t want him coming to the rescue.” Dad pointed at me. “She wants you.”

  I squeezed the back of my neck, hoping like hell he was right.

  “You need to stop being so cavalier about this whole thing. Stay underground and let me help you.”

  I didn’t want to let him in. I’d been trying to live without him for nearly a decade and I didn’t want to depend on him ever again, but he was right. I could use all the damn help I could get. With a stiff nod, I finally gave in.

  “Thank you,” Dad muttered, opening the passenger door and jumping into the car.

  I slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. I felt weary down to my core, but I wasn’t asking Dad to drive. “So, where do we go now?”

  “I need to head back to the motel and get my stuff. We can spend the night there.”

  “No going back home for me?”

  “Not right now.”

  “What about Nicole and Dale? Will they be safe?”

  “Might be worth giving them a call and telling them to get out of Dodge for a while.”

  Blowing out a sigh, I found Dale’s number and made the call. He agreed without so much as a murmur. The story of Gramps had really unnerved him and he wasn’t sticking around to be questioned by some mafia thugs.

  “We thought we’d go on a little road trip to San Francisco for a few days, until this thing blows over. Nicky doesn’t want to, but I’m not losing her over this. I’ll throw her over my shoulder if I have to.”

  I chuckled. “Sounds good, man. You take care.”

  “You, too. Keep me posted.”

  I nodded and hung up after a short goodbye.

  “They’re heading out of town.”

  “Good. You sure you don’t want me to drive?”

  I gripped the wheel, my head pounding like a bass drum. Gramps’ words kissed the edges of my brain.

  “Pride comes before a fall, son. Don’t be an idiot.”

  A short, dry laugh puffed out of my nose and I let go of the wheel. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

  Unbuckling my seatbelt, I walked around to the other side of the car while Dad climbed into the driver’s seat. I slammed the door shut behind me and leaned my head back against the headrest. We drove into the darkness, my mind running with the mantra, Please find something, Rhodes. Please find something.

  Chapter 16

  Caitlyn

  My nerves were strung tight by the time we pulled off the main road and wove down a long driveway. Santiago had said no more about taking my powers; we’d spent the rest of the trip working out our cheating code. It was a good distraction, but not enough to silence his ominous threat. It swirled around me, laughing and jeering like a little demon. I couldn’t screw up tonight. I had to make him a rich man.

  Although I could read faces, I had no control over the cards dealt. All I could pray was that things would work in my favor. I needed Santiago’s bad hands to come infrequently enough that when he played the bluff it wouldn’t be predictable. I needed him to have a run of good hands and then I needed him to lose just a few, so no one would suspect we were cheating.

  I rubbed my temples, my head beginning to ache.

  “Take your hand down. You give everything away. Your poker face is just as important as mine.” Santiago’s expression was hard as we pulled to a stop outside a glowing mansion. “You are my jewel tonight, a bored lover who is simply here for show.”

  I nodded my understanding and watched his face morph with a broad smile as the car door popped open. Our driver helped me out of the car and I waited for Santiago before approaching the house. Lifting my dress, I ascended the stairs beside him and paused outside the grand front doors.

  It was a lavish home and reminded me of an old English estate. It felt very out of place in the Nevada desert, but when a posh butler opened the door and led us through to an in-house casino, it suddenly made sense.

  “Good evening, Mr. Gomez. What a pleasure it is to have you in my home again.” The tall man with a willowy smile that was anything but genuine, tipped his head at us. He had a long, narrow face and his toffee-nosed accent made him seem like royalty.

  Santiago shook his hand with a tight smile. “It is a pleasure to be here, Señor Keating.”

  “And who is this exquisite specimen?” Keating indicated to me.

  With a smile, Santiago threaded his arm around my waist and gazed down at me. I left his mask on and pretended his loving gaze belonged to Eric. I dipped my head with a blush.

  “This is my Carlotta.”

  “A pleasure to have you in my home.” Keating extended his arm and we walked past him, stopping once more to talk to a short, stout man in an Armani suit. My eyes widened a little as I suddenly recognized him. I pressed my lips together, forcing my expression to remain bland.

  “Good evening.” Santiago nodded at the man, but the action was stiff and cold. I could see instantly there was no love lost between these men.

  “Señor Gomez,” the short man replied. His dark eyes skirted to me, his brows rising with recognition.

  “Have we met before?” His eyes narrowed when he looked at me.

  I didn’t know what to say, but lying felt like the right thing to do so I shook my head and put on an accent.

  “No, I do not think so.”

  Why a French accent came out of my mouth, I will never know. French, Caitlyn? Seriously?

  But it did and I had no choice but to go along with it. Santiago’s unmasked face balked with confusion then crinkled with mirth. I flipped his mask back up so I didn’t have to see him laughing at me. He stood by my side, cool as a cucumber while I dug a trench for myself to jump into.

  “You seem very familiar.” The stout man tipped his head, the pads of his fingers pressing into his champagne flute.

  Of course I seemed familiar; he’d only seen me two days ago at another poker game, only that time I was hanging off Miguel’s arm.

  “Je suis désolé, monsieur, but I do not know you.”

  I
’m sorry. It was like the only French I could remember from high school. I held my tight smile, hoping he’d buy it.

  The man reached for my hand, kissing my knuckles like he did last time. His unmasked face told me he knew I was lying. I stared back at him, pretending I wasn’t afraid. My aloof, slightly disgusted gaze finally started to tug at his resolve. His confidence was pushed aside by doubt and it didn’t take him long to start questioning himself.

  Thank goodness!

  I was so tense I thought I might pass out.

  Santiago pulled me against him, nuzzling his lips against my ear.

  “I did not know that weasel was going to be here. Does he think you are lying?”

  I turned, putting on a sultry expression as I ran my hand up Santiago’s arm. “Not anymore.”

  Santiago chuckled. “Well played, my Parisian princess. Now maintain the charade. Tonight must go perfectly.”

  I nodded, my lips quivering slightly. He gave me a sharp look of warning before planting a kiss on my lips. It was gross. I mean, Santiago was a good-looking man, but he wasn’t my type, not to mention the fact he was probably twenty years my senior. But more than that, he wasn’t Eric, and his lips on mine felt disgusting. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed to slide my hand up his arm and thread my fingers around his neck.

  I hated that I had to put on this show.

  I hated that my life depended on it.

  Santiago let me go and with his hand on my back, led me to the grand poker table. The dark, polished wood was lined with padded green sides. The chairs around it were plump and smelled like real leather. Santiago slid his out and took a seat. I ran my hand over his shoulder and nestled against the edge of the chair. More rich men and women filtered in over the next few minutes. The amount of sparkly dresses and rich jewelry was a little overwhelming. There was enough wealth in this room to start a bank.

  I tried not to let it intimidate me and ripped off masks as soon as I saw people. I wanted to know what kind of room I was in. It wasn’t pleasant. The casino was filled with cheaters, liars, and arrogant pricks with superiority complexes. By the time my eyes had scanned every face, I felt like I was standing in a pit of writhing snakes. Trying to keep up my poker face was damn hard, but I had to. I couldn’t give anything away. I silently reprimanded myself for not doing this earlier. I had let this entire kidnapping overwhelm me. Fear had dulled my wits and I needed to pull it together.

  I had to stop showing Bruno my terror and Santiago my reluctance. I had to play this right, wear my own masks and poker expressions to get me through this hideous ordeal.

  The noise in the room reduced to a quiet lull as Mr. Keating stepped up to the table.

  “Thank you for joining me tonight, gentlemen. It is a privilege to have your company.”

  He didn’t mean that.

  My eyes threatened to roll and I pulled them into submission.

  Poker face, Caity!

  His eloquent speech lasted for another few minutes and the entire room seemed relieved when it had finished. These men were not here for polite chatter, they were here to win...and win big.

  I kept my eye on the cards and the faces, my head pounding a little harder with each round. Santiago lost the first hand and there was nothing I could do about it. His cards were terrible and I warned him out of bluffing the first hand with a sharp pinch to the shoulder. It was better to ease the other players into a sense of confidence before pouncing on them. Thankfully, he listened to me and only lost two thousand dollars.

  The next round he won easily and hauled in a sweet fifteen thousand.

  His smug smile was quite genuine, unlike mine. People bought into it though, much to my relief.

  By round ten, Santiago was swimming in it. Mr. Armani and one other player were already out. They were pretty pissed, but they bet high on losing hands; what did they expect? So far, Santiago had only had to play the bluff once, so he still had a few more of those up his sleeve. His cards were working in my favor and we were yet to receive any suspicious looks from other players.

  It was working.

  I was so relieved I wanted to cry, but I wouldn’t let my expression crumble...even when Santiago stood up during the break and whispered in my ear. “You really are a keeper, my dear.”

  I hated those words.

  I didn’t want to be kept by him. I didn’t want to be touched. I didn’t even want to breathe the same air, but it was safer than Bruno’s darkened bedroom and so I smiled and pecked his cheek.

  Monique’s words whistled through my brain. “I thought I was going to die, but I didn’t...so then you hope for death. It never comes, so you learn to accept it.”

  Accept it.

  I couldn’t. I was nineteen years old and I refused to believe that this would be the rest of my life.

  But what choice did I have?

  Eric had no idea where I was and come Monday, when I didn’t return to explain my note, he’d probably start looking for me. But where would he even begin?

  And Kaplan, would she try to find me? What leads did she have? Even if they found that secret passageway behind Quella’s full-length mirror, would it lead them to me? Miguel was no doubt dust in the wind by now.

  I had nothing going for me.

  Maybe my best bet was to escape.

  As Santiago slid back into his seat and I leaned against him, the idea grew with fervor in my brain.

  I couldn’t just sit around and wait to be rescued; I needed to break free on my own.

  Chapter 17

  Eric

  Dad drove at a quick clip and we made it back to the hotel by midnight. He made me wait outside while he went in to check the room. I leaned against the wall and tried not to feel anxious. A car backfired down the street, sounding like a gunshot, and I thought my heart was going to explode. I jerked into the room just as Dad flicked the lights on.

  “It’s all clear.” He placed the gun on the table. “Lock the door.”

  I did as I was told, flicking the deadbolt and sliding the chain across, as well. Dad’s paranoia was obviously wearing off on me.

  Snatching up a pillow, I threw it against the headboard and slumped onto the bed.

  “Where do you think Mom is by now?”

  Dad checked his watch. “All going to plan, she should be touching down in the next hour or so.”

  I nodded. “New Zealand?”

  “Yeah.” His smile was glum as he ran a hand through his hair. “Oh hey, um, she left this for you.” Digging into his back pocket, he pulled out a note and passed it to me. “I was gonna give it to you earlier, but figured you were too fired up to actually read it.”

  I unfolded the note carefully.

  Hey kiddo,

  I know you’re hurting right now and I know you’re scared...but I also know that if anyone can find Caity, it’s you. I hate leaving you, but I figure I’m less of a burden if I’m out of the picture. Your dad has promised me he won’t leave your side. I trust him and although this probably feels like an impossible request right now, you need to, as well. Yes, he let us down in the past, but he’s trying to make right and we need to let him do that.

  I don’t know when I’ll get to see you again, but I have to believe one day. I’m sorry if I haven’t been the mother you needed me to be. All those men, all those broken promises...I guess I was trying to fill the gap in my heart. You had your rage, I had my inability to be alone. Times of crisis always force you to reflect and I can say with certainty that there’s only ever been one man for me and I should have waited for him to come home. Don’t give up on Caity. You two were made for each other and I’ll see you both again somewhere, somehow. I’ll keep saying that until it comes true.

  Don’t worry about me. Your dad’s set me up and I’m gonna be safe. I’ll find my way.

  Please always remember how much I love you.

  xxx

  Mom

  My brow crinkled, my eyes stinging as I folded the note away. She sounded so confident and
sure. I wasn’t used to that from her and if it hadn’t been written in her handwriting, I would have questioned its authenticity. My gaze flicked to Dad. He was standing at the end of the bed, watching me. I cleared my throat and shoved the note in my back pocket.

  “Did you read it?”

  “Yeah, she made me.”

  I nodded, my jaw clicking to the side. “She’ll be okay.”

  “Yeah.” He frowned, clearing his throat. “Man, I hope so. Leaving her at the airport, it kinda killed me, you know.”

  “I can imagine.” My voice was tight. I couldn’t really. There’s no way I’d walk away from Caity...ever.

  “Shit, Eric, I know sorry doesn’t cut it. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

  I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  Dad plopped onto the sofa against the wall. “It does matter.” He sighed. “Now you’re on the run...and I never wanted that for you.”

  I gave him a dry look.

  His face bunched with a scowl. “I know you think I left because I didn’t care about you anymore, but I didn’t want to go, okay?”

  Shaking my head, I turned away, picking at the bed cover.

  “Your mom kicked me out.”

  “No, she didn’t,” I snapped. “You left. You just left!”

  Dad huffed. “I started gambling when you were about four. Your mom and I were pretty tight for cash and I thought what the heck, it could get us some quick money.” He shrugged. “And it worked, too. I started on a really good streak and it was a damn easy way to bring home the bacon. It was a hell of a lot better than working night guard shift at the local mall. I hated that job. So after a few sweet runs on the poker table, I quit my job and started sneaking out to the casino every night instead.”

  He clicked his tongue, his face wrinkling with regret. “My lucky streak ended pretty damn fast, but I’d had a taste and I was convinced I could win it back. It didn’t take long for Shayna to figure out what I was up to and she kicked me out. She told me my gambling problem might hurt you and she wouldn’t have it.”