Poker Face (The Masks Series Book 4)

by Melissa Pearl

  Bruno.

  He appeared behind his uncle, his anger clear for all to see.

  “Hey! She was supposed to be waiting for me in my room.”

  Santiago spun to face him. “And you were supposed to be finishing the job I sent you to do, not leaving it for the others. I made you responsible because I wanted the job done properly. You can have her when I know they’re dead.”

  “You know Sal is capable of doing it without me. You’re just holding her back, punishing me!”

  “I’m not punishing you,” Santiago muttered.

  “I have been patient, Uncle. I have respected you and you said last night that I could have her.”

  Santiago rolled his eyes, rubbing his thumb and finger down his lower lip and looking over at me. “All right,” he grunted.

  My stomach jerked and I clutched the seat beneath me.

  “You have one hour, but no bruising. Get it out of your system and then you can play with her properly tonight. I need her seeing straight for this meeting.”

  “I’ll be a wreck for this meeting if you let him have me now.”

  “He’s not going to hurt you.”

  “Are you kidding me!” I shot from my chair. “Look at his face. Your nephew is a total sadist! You know he’s going to hurt me! If you want me straight for this meeting you’ll make him wait!”

  Santiago hesitated, nibbling his lip beneath his mask.

  Yes! Thank God! I’d just bought myself one more day.

  “Uncle! No! One hour, you just said.”

  “You know I’m right. He will be forcing himself on me and that will have an impact. Think about it. I’m not some hooker. I’ve only ever slept with one man and this will destroy me!” I pointed at Bruno. “He’s crueler than you think.”

  Santiago’s eyes flicked to his nephew. “Tonight,” he mumbled.

  “No!” Bruno punched the air, seething at me before storming from the room.

  “Be warned, Carlotta: the madder you make him, the worse it will be.” Santiago’s quiet voice made my legs buckle.

  Although I could read him, Santiago was still a hard man to figure out. He could go from demon to father figure in one conversation. The man had so many layers and unpredictable mood changes it was hard to get a handle on him.

  I threw his mask back on and saw the calm, wooden facade that was easier to live with.

  “So.” I sighed. “What do you need me to do at this meeting?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched with a smile and he slid his hands into his pockets, about to answer me, when the elevator pinged open. The awkward thud made us all spin and had Santiago lurching through the doorway.

  “What happened?” he yelled.

  “They’re dead,” croaked a voice.

  “Gabriel.” Monique dropped the foundation in her hand and scampered out the door. I followed her, pausing in the doorway to watch her fall to her knees beside Gabriel's weak body. Blood had turned his crisp white shirt red; his skin was grey. Death was written all over him.

  I covered my mouth, blinking at tears. Monique touched his forehead and checked the pulse at his neck.

  “Call an ambulance, please.” She looked to Santiago.

  His smile was soft, but beneath his mask was a hard, unrelenting glare. “Tell me what happened.”

  Gabriel slowly licked the edge of his mouth. “After we spoke to you, I went to dig...helicopter.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know for sure...guns, killed Sal.”

  “Who do you think it was?”

  Gabriel’s eyes closed, his breathing shallow.

  “Gabriel!” Santiago growled, slapping his shoulder. “Who!”

  “Marchant...Marchant’s men.”

  “Bastardos!” Bruno stood at the edge of the room, his face molten. “They steal from us! Why!”

  Gabriel’s head shook, his movements slow and lucid.

  Santiago’s eyes shot to me. “Why?”

  I swallowed.

  “Why would Marchant want your boyfriend?”

  “Because...because of his father.” I licked my lips, hating the way Santiago was walking towards me. Like a black panther, stalking his prey. “I—He, Declan Shore, conned Marchant a long time ago and he wants revenge. He shouldn’t even know that Declan’s still alive, but he found out about Eric...somehow.” I sputtered over my words, pieces fitting together as I spoke. How had Marchant found out? Was it at the club? Had he seen Eric and known...or had Kaplan posted that damn envelope!

  “Let me try to understand this. Lucian Marchant killed my men so that he could have the personal pleasure of killing yours?”

  I nodded.

  “Mierda! Voy a matarlo!” Santiago thumped the table and pointed at Bruno. “Get the men together and make sure they’re armed. Nobody takes a life without my permission. We’re going to pay Lucian Marchant a visit.”

  Bruno speared me with a black look as he left the room while Santiago took off out the other doorway. The room fell into sudden, peaceful silence; the only thing to puncture it was the quiet sobs of Monique. She lifted Gabriel’s head onto her lap.

  “Mi amor.” She kissed his forehead, running her hand down his cheek and gazing at him. Her face was the same with or without the mask, a loving glow that made me think of the sun.

  “Se va a estar bien,” he whispered, shakily tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear.

  “It will be okay,” she murmured with a smile, obviously repeating his words.

  So that’s why she said it so much.

  “Please don’t leave me.” She sucked in a breath. “Please stay with me.”

  “No matter where I go, I will be there, waiting for you.”

  She sniffed, tears breaking free and trickling down her smooth cheeks.

  “But you must promise not to hurry, mi kariña. You will be free one day and you must live...for me.”

  “I can’t live without you.” She pressed her forehead against his. “I can’t.”

  “You will,” he whispered back.

  Pressing my back against the wall, I slid to my butt, wrapping my arms around my knees. My belly trembled and I couldn’t hold back the tears as I watched the couple say goodbye.

  They’d found hope in the darkest place...and now it was dying.

  Is that what hope did?

  Taunt you and then vanish?

  I had no words of comfort for Monique. I could think of nothing to say that would make this better.

  There was no hope right now.

  Only death.

  Chapter 37

  Eric

  Marchant creeped me out. I mean, I thought Santiago and Bruno were bad guys, but this French mafia whack job took sinister to a whole new level. After looking at me with those black eyes of his and telling Dad he’d sentenced me to death, he burst into a merry laughter that was maniacal. We were then dragged into the kind of rooms you saw on shows like CSI. It was a dank, concrete cavern full of rickety scaffolding with white sheets of plastic dangling off them. I assumed we were beneath the club. It was like an abandoned warehouse type space with thick chains hanging from the ceiling and large metal beams stretching the length of the room. Dripping water echoed off the concrete and I expected to see plastic-wrapped corpses littering the floor.

  They plonked me into a chair and snapped off the plastic ties that had held my wrists together for the flight. My arms were then snatched behind my back and re-secured with new ties. They cut into my wrists, biting at the skin and making it impossible to move. I looked to Dad, hoping for some kind of calm reassurance, but his lethal gaze was directed straight at Marchant.

  “Let him go. You don’t need him. You’ve got me.”

  “I do have you.” Marchant grinned. “And you will get your turn, but you see, Declan, you humiliated me...and that is not okay. You must pay the price for your deception.”

  Walking over to me, he laid his hand on my shoulder. I jerked out of his grasp, but he tightened his grip, making it impossible
to squirm.

  “My guess is...” He cleared his throat. “That this young man here means very much to you. We found the money trail. You wanted to look after them.”

  Dad’s jaw clenched tight.

  “Which tells me that you love your family.”

  Marchant’s head tipped to the side, waiting for an answer. Dad’s lips remained locked together.

  Letting out an impatient sigh, Marchant flicked his head at the man behind me. I was hauled to my feet and dragged towards a plastic-lined tank in the middle of the room. Instinct made me jerk and fight, but two beefy guys had me locked in place and I was powerless. Stopping at the side of the murky-looking water, they pressed my body against it.

  I knew what was coming. Breathing slowly in through my nose, I closed my eyes and prepped. I knew the sensation of drowning was an awful one; I’d had tastes of it out in the ocean and the best way to survive was not to panic.

  “You know who I loved, Declan?” Marchant asked.

  Dad caught my gaze, fear ripping through his expression before he managed to stop it.

  Marchant grinned. “I loved my wife and you forced me to kill her. I couldn’t be married to a cheater, so I had to fake her suicide.” He clicked his tongue. “It broke my heart. It really did. So I feel it is only fair that if you take a loved one from me, then I get to take one from you.”

  One nod from him and I was plunged into the water.

  It was freezing and impossible not to fight against the hands on my shoulders, forcing me under. I tried to control my body, to stay calm, but my lungs began to burn and I was hit with the realization that this might be it. My instinct clawed against the idea, scraping and jerking as my body fought to stay alive.

  “Enough!” The yell was muffled and murky beneath the water, but its passionate volume and tone told me it was Dad.

  The hands holding me down bunched into my shirt, pulling me free. I gulped in lungfuls of air, sweet relief against the burning pain, but it only lasted a moment before I was plunged back into the icy fray.

  By the third time I was hauled out of the water, I was too weak to stand on my own. My body was shaking and I couldn’t cough the water out of my lungs fast enough. I convulsed and hacked against the side of the pool while Marchant laughed as if he was attending a stand-up comedy gala.

  “Marchant, we get it!” Dad yelled. “Yes, I love my son. You got me! Now let him go. I’ll do whatever you need me to, just...please, let him go.”

  I’d never seen my dad crack before. Even when he picked me up with his black eye and split lip, even when he tried to apologize for letting me down once again, he never broke. He always kept it together, kept those emotions of his well in check. But the look on his face just then, it was open...a raw wound that made his expression crease and crinkle.

  “You do not understand my purpose here.” Marchant shook his head. “I’m not doing this to try and get something from you. I just want you to suffer.”

  “Then let me suffer! Take me! Dunk me! Drown me! Kill me! Whatever! Just give him a break!” Dad squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he’d played right into Marchant’s hands.

  He should have kept his poker face in play. He should have stayed his nonplussed, unruffled self, because then Marchant may have gotten bored with the game, but Dad couldn’t shut up, because watching me suffer was killing him.

  Rough hands hauled me up, forcing me back into the water and this time I didn’t struggle.

  Dad loved me.

  For the first time in my life, I could actually see it plain as day and feel it down to my very core.

  My father had just offered to die...for me.

  Which made his disappearance from my life plausible, believable...forgivable.

  Chapter 38

  Caitlyn

  Gabriel was dead. We didn’t need any EMT to confirm it...one wasn’t coming anyway. His floppy body and translucent skin told us all we needed to know. Monique wouldn’t let him go. I hadn’t tried to persuade her yet. I was still frozen against the wall, a shell-shocked shadow unsure of how to help her.

  I didn’t know if anything could ever make me move again.

  The side door clicked open and Bruno appeared in the double-doorway. He was a little out of breath from running up the stairs, but his eyes gleamed as he drank me in. I looked past his shoulder, hoping for a glimpse of Santiago, something I thought I’d never do, but he wasn’t there.

  My lips trembled, my limbs jumping into action like a skittish rabbit. I scrambled on my hands and knees back towards my room. I was aiming for the bathroom, which could only be locked from the inside, but I didn’t make it. Bruno’s fingers curled into my hair before I could get that far.

  “Bruno, no!” Monique’s horrified cry was cut off by the slamming of the door. He pushed me into the room, clicking the lock shut behind him.

  His malicious smile made his sharp face curl up and all I could see was The Joker from Batman.

  “Finally. We are alone.”

  “Santiago doesn’t want you up here.” I crab-crawled away from him, my back smashing into the bed behind me.

  “He sent me up here when he suddenly realized the three of you were unguarded. I volunteered to watch over you.”

  “Liar!”

  Bruno smirked, his shoulder tipping with a shrug. “He’s too busy plotting his revenge. He will not notice my absence and when he returns, I will tell him I found you trying to escape. I was merely protecting his precious jewel.”

  Bruno unbuttoned his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders and throwing it over my vanity chair. Unbuckling his belt, he whipped it out of the loops.

  My insides went ballistic as he unbuttoned the top of his pants. This couldn’t be happening.

  They dropped to the floor, followed by his shirt. He now stood in nothing but his pinstriped boxers and I could already see how aroused he was.

  I grappled around on the floor, looking for any way out...but there was none. I’d never make it to the bathroom without him snatching me. My instincts to fly, to escape were useless to me now, which meant I had to rely on the one thing that never came naturally.

  I had to fight.

  Bruno wrapped his hand around my throat, pulling me up from the floor and ripping my blouse open in one swift move. Buttons shot across the room. Curling my fingers into a fist, I went for his belly, firing as much power into the move as I could.

  He flinched, surprised by my attack, squeezing my throat until I was gagging and then shoving me back onto the bed. I tried to scramble away from him, but he caught my wrists and pulled them above my head.

  He was going to win this. There was no way I’d be strong enough to beat him...but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make it as difficult as possible.

  Bucking my hips and yanking against his grasp, I struggled beneath him, cutting off his amused laughter by sinking my teeth into his wrist.

  “Ah!” He flinched back, straddling me and slapping me across the face.

  I used the chance to try and get another punch in but he caught my wrist, gripping it painfully as he thrust it back over my head.

  “You can’t stop me, Carlotta.” His spittle hit my face, his unmasked determination making me quake.

  “I’m gonna try,” I seethed back.

  His eyes flared with the challenge as he pressed his body against me, holding my wrists with one hand while he dove for my pants with the other. I wriggled and squirmed, using up all my energy on making his task a challenging one.

  Unfortunately, the fighting only seemed to turn him on.

  What was with this sick freak? And how the hell was I supposed to get out of this!

  Use your brain, Caity! Use your EYES!

  The words screamed through my head and I went still beneath him. Closing my eyes, I drew in a breath to focus and popped them open, peeling off Bruno’s facial layers and noticing his instant disappointment.

  “Giving up so quickly?” He smirked.

  I said nothing, just kept staring
at him, reading, looking, searching for a clue.

  My limp-fish body bothered him. He sat back, letting go of my wrists and undoing my belt. I kept my arms above my head, letting him unzip my pants.

  I had to find something before he yanked them off.

  My eyes scrambled for a nugget, my brain trying to keep the panic at bay while I searched.

  There it was.

  I forced my shaking lips to grow with a smile. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  He paused, leaning back over me and grabbing one of my breasts. I forced myself not to react to the hard squeeze and kept my smirk in place. “Yes, you are, Carlotta.”

  “I used to be, but now I see you...for what you really are.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And what is that?”

  “You’ve never made love to a woman before, because no woman ever wanted you. You’ve always forced yourself on them, haven’t you?”

  The way his mouth turned down pushed me to keep talking...taunting.

  “I find that strange, because you are a very handsome man. Your features are a little sharp.” I wrinkled my nose, causing a flash of insecurity to streak across his face. “But that’s not what stops you. I can’t see exactly what it might be. I mean, all I can really do is guess.”

  “Shut up.” He slapped my face.

  My head flipped to the side, but I didn’t react. The sting was nothing compared to what he could do to me and I had to keep up the charade. I knew my next line could have his fist plowing into my flesh, but I had to say it because it would shock him enough to throw him off-guard...and that’s what I needed...off-guard.

  Turning back to him, I let my eyes dance with amusement. “I’m guessing the reason no one wants you is because you’re bad in bed. I don’t know who broke your heart and stole your confidence, but you now need fear to get it up, don’t you, Bruno?”

  A black rage morphed his expression to a monstrous one that barely made him human.

  “Well, I’m not afraid. There is nothing you can do to me that will make me fear you.” I spat out the words and lunged forward with a feral scream, pushing him back with every ounce of strength I had.