by Ella Miles
I look at my cards. I have two aces, a three, a seven, and a ten.
The aces are easy tasks. The three isn’t bad. The seven starts to hurt. The ten I don’t even want to think about. I don’t want to know what’s on a king.
“Mr. Wilson, you may start the bidding. The bidding will continue around until no one wants to bid any higher,” our dealer says.
“Five,” the cowboy, Mr. Wilson says.
“Seven,” I say.
“Ten,” the slick suit says.
“Ten,” the tattooed man says.
“Thirteen,” the older gentleman says.
“Eighteen,” the cowboy says.
Shit.
“Twelve,” I say, hoping that I won’t have to play my ten and that someone else bids lower.
“Twenty-four,” the slick suit says.
“Thirty,” the tattooed man says.
“Twenty-five,” the older gentleman says.
All eyes fall to me.
Shit.
“Mrs. Pearce, would you like to bid higher? If not, bidding is closed and you lose this round,” the dealer says.
There is no point bidding higher. Even if I played all of my cards, it would still only be twenty-two, two lower than the next lowest bid.
I shake my head.
“If everyone would please lay down the cards they bid face down so I can check your bids,” the dealer says.
Everyone places their bid cards face down, and he collects them one by one, ensuring the bet that was placed was in fact in their hands.
When the dealer collects my cards, he takes his time reading each of the tasks. He whispers into a microphone and then looks back at the table.
“To continue playing Mrs. Pearce, you owe a drop of blood, a kiss from a stranger, the removal of one item of clothing, and one lash of a whip. Are you willing to pay your debts?”
“Yes,” I say, confidently. I didn’t bet anything that I wouldn’t be willing to do to get my child back. I would have bet everything I had every time if I had good enough cards.
He nods.
A woman in a slinky black dress walks over, carrying a tray of items stands behind the dealer. “The winner of the round gets to decide if he wants to inflict the debt.” He motions behind him. “Or if Miss Kiff here will be inflicting the debt. Mr. Mullock, which will it be?” the dealer asks the tattooed man.
“I would love the pleasure,” he says.
“Mr. Mullock and Mrs. Pearce, if you would follow Miss Kiff please,” the dealer says.
I stand shakily on my feet. My head spins, and my stomach heaves, wanting to vomit, but not because of this stupid game. The men are going to try and gang up on me, but I have no doubt that I’ll win.
We follow Miss Kiff to one side of the room, where I realize there is a small stage. This is part of the game—the show. I’m sure there are plenty of rich people watching our humiliation. There are people standing in line to the stage from each table. Langston isn’t among them. I look back and find him sitting at the table, staring at me wide-eyed. The vein on his head is throbbing, and his eyes rage with pain.
Relax, I got this, I mouth to him.
He doesn’t relax. If anything, the tension in his body tightens.
I sigh.
I can’t worry about him. I need to find a way to win this game without having to endure stupid humiliation.
I don’t pay attention to the first man. I hear laughter, then applause as he shrieks in pain. Then it’s my turn.
I walk up the three steps onto the rickety stage, pleased with myself for staying upright. I really should have eaten something.
Mr. Mullock steps onto the stage behind me. Miss Kiff and her tray of evil things settles in front of me.
“A drop of blood,” she says, handing Mullock the knife.
He takes it from her then encircles me, making a big show of running the blade of the knife over my breasts, then down my stomach.
I can sense Langston in the crowd, ready to jump to my aid at a moment’s notice.
“Get on with it,” I hiss through my teeth.
He snarls back and then slices the blade superficially across the top of my breast, causing more than a drop of blood to ooze out of my skin. The crowd hisses and snickers.
“So original,” I say, not impressed at all by him.
He frowns, putting the knife back on the tray.
“A kiss from a stranger,” Miss Kiff says next.
I don’t wait for Mullock to take his time deciding how or where he’s going to kiss me. I grab his cheeks and plant one on his lips before he even has time to realize what happened.
The crowd chuckles as Mullock growls. “I’m supposed to be inflicting the debt, not you.”
I roll my eyes. “Then hurry up; we have a game to play.”
“An item of clothing,” Miss Kiff says.
I freeze. It’s not that I really care if I’m naked in front of these men. I just don’t want to have to play the rest of the game without my dress on, which is what I assume is the item he’ll ask me to remove. I only have two items of clothing on—my panties and the dress. The low-cut front leaves no room for a bra.
Mullock studies me a moment, once again encircling me.
“If you want me to remove the dress, then you’re going to have to unzip me.”
“Your panties,” he says, shocking me.
The crowd boos.
I’m thankful as I shimmy my g-string down and then fling it in his direction.
“I don’t want to be distracted looking at your ugly ass body,” he mumbles under his breath.
I smile and shake my head.
Mullock walks over and picks up the whip before Ms. Kiff even finishes her sentence. “And one lashing.”
He whips the whip hard against my back before I have time to prepare. I stumble forward in my heels, but I refuse to show any more weakness. My body can’t handle the sudden force, though, and I fall to my knees, my hands landing on the ground in front of me.
More snickers and catcalls as I finally stand up on my feet, watching Mr. Mullock and Miss Kiff walk off the stage.
As I scramble off, my cheeks flush even though I didn’t have to do anything remotely embarrassing. I make it back to my seat before the next man takes the stage.
“I yield,” he says before his punishment even starts.
“Me as well,” the next man says.
I frown, realizing that may be how the games go. I may be one of the only people who will do any of the dares, debts.
The dealer begins shuffling the cards, and then he looks at me. “Would you like to keep your remaining card or trade it in?”
“Keep,” I say, knowing it’s a ten.
He deals me four more cards.
I pick them all up, reveling in the fact that they are all face cards. I don’t read a single one. All I know is that my next bet is going to be a good one.
9
Langston
I stare at the men sitting around the table as the dealer gives us new cards. Three men now stare back at me after we lost one in the previous round.
Men.
Why are there only men in this game besides Liesel?
What didn’t Phoenix tell us? What kind of trap did she set?
We both know this is a trap. That’s the only reason Phoenix would tell us about it. She wants us to suffer since she blames us for her suffering.
I replay every conversation I’ve ever had with her. Every kiss. Every fuck. Every time I thought Rose was our child. I remember it all and realize how wrong I’ve been about Phoenix. How much I missed that I should have caught. I should have known that Rose was Liesel’s and not Phoenix’s. I think somewhere deep down, I did know.
What game is she playing? How badly does she want Liesel and I to suffer during these games? Did she just set them up just to ensure we endured complete agony? Are the others playing the game in on it? Are they all their employees, which is why they aren’t doing any of the debts when they
lose?
So many questions and no answers.
My eyes drift to Liesel across the room. She doesn’t look back, but I can see the hairs rise on her arms. Her body stiffens at the feel of my gaze on her. She’s worried that I can’t handle seeing her in pain.
She’s right. I fucking can’t.
Seeing her suffer is worse than any torture I could ever physically endure. I’d rather die than see her in pain.
But she deserves the same right I do to try to get our kids back. We are both willing to lose everything to protect them, as it should be. I have to put my feelings aside for now, but I hope to hell that we get Rose back before I have to watch Liesel endure more.
I take my cards as the next round starts. I don’t have a single face card, which means it’s going to be hard for me to win. At least the tasks won’t add up to anything difficult.
The three men I’m playing against are all middle or upper aged. They all have gray hair, a well-fed stomach, and don more riches on their tuxes, watches, and rings than most people will earn in a lifetime.
I don’t look at what the dares are on my cards. I don’t care the pain I have to endure, as long as it doesn’t hurt Liesel.
I smirk, thinking about my girl.
She might even slightly enjoy seeing me in pain for all the shit I’ve put her through over the years.
When it’s my turn, I bet everything in my hand. “Twenty-three.”
It’s not enough. Every bet after mine is higher. It’s my turn again, so I just lay my cards down, surrendering to the pain that I’m about to go through.
I look over at Liesel, who lets out a triumphant exhale. Thank god her cards were better this time.
A woman stands over me. “Mr. Pearce, right this way, please.”
I stand up and follow her, my eyes still on Liesel. Her eyes grow wide, the corner of her mouth turns down, and the pink from her cheeks whitens. Maybe I was wrong thinking that Liesel could somehow enjoy seeing me in pain, seeing another woman or man touch me? Maybe she feels more for me than I think? Maybe she already loves me?
I walk onto the small stage, and the crowd grows silent, ready to watch the show. No one else is in line to the stage; the losers from the other tables walked right out of the room after they lost.
I’m right in thinking that only Liesel and I will be completing the debts. Only the two of us have enough at stake in order to be humiliated and in pain like this. For everyone else, this is just a silly game or an evil trap.
I find Liesel once again and give her a tight smile, trying to reassure her. I don’t know what is about to happen because I didn’t read the cards, but the only thing they could do to me that would truly hurt is attack Liesel or my kids. Since none of them are on the stage, the pain will feel nothing worse than a bee sting.
I wink at her.
Her frown deepens.
I hear the woman speak, but I don’t register the words. My entire world is focused on Liesel, on figuring out how to get her to love me. Not just so we can get the stupid treasure, but because I want her to love me. I was wrong to run from loving her all these years. We can handle the consequences. I’m not even sure if there will be consequences of loving her.
I feel my jacket being ripped from my body. My shirt goes next, and I’m standing shirtless in front of the room.
Liesel’s eyes water.
Why would they water? I’m just shirtless.
Then, I feel it. Not the pain, but the oozing of blood on my back.
I wish there was a way I could tell Liesel not to worry. With her safe in the same room as me, all I feel is her. My eyes plead with her not to worry, but I can see the concern marked on her face all the same.
A woman steps in front of me. I’m shocked when her lips land on mine. All I can think is when Liesel kissed that man. I turned feral as I watched another man touch what is mine, and I see the same look in Liesel’s eyes now.
My eyebrows shoot up and wiggle in her direction. I’m yours, I remind her.
Liesel rolls her eyes at my antics, but then her face turns red. Her eyes almost come out of her head, and it looks like she’s losing her mind as the woman licks her way down my body, groping me like her plaything.
I smirk, not because my body registers anything this woman is doing as remotely sexy, but because Liesel is jealous. I can work with jealous. Jealous can turn into love.
I hate you, I mouth to Liesel.
I hate you, too, she mouths back.
The woman who was licking my chest like her favorite lollipop grabs my chin and looks me in the eye. It’s clear from the gleam in her eye that she’s enjoying herself.
“I’m a sadist. I love this shit,” she says as if there was any need to explain. Literal drool drips down her chin.
Her eyes look up at me as her tongue trails down my chest once again. “You sure you don’t want to quit?”
Her hand rests on the top of my pants. It doesn’t take much speculation on my part to guess what she’s going to do next.
“I won’t quit, no matter what you do to me. I can’t.”
Her eyes widen in realization. “The kid’s yours.”
I frown, my hand grabbing the back of her neck without thinking. “You know where she is?”
“As much as I’d enjoy the pain you want to inflict on me, you better let me go before they throw you out.”
I let her go.
“Where is she?” I ask through gritted teeth.
She shrugs. “She’s being kept as the prize.”
“The prize?”
“Whoever wins gets her…”
They are trying to use my daughter as a prize for winning a fucked up game.
I can’t.
My head snaps to Liesel, trying to let her know how important it is for us to win. We both knew it was important before, but now we know for sure. If we lose, Rose will be given to one of these men.
My heart.
I can’t think about…
I just can’t.
We have to win.
“Who—who are these men?”
“Most work for the Browns. The others are worse.”
And then I feel her gripping my cock. I don’t give a shit what she does. She can rip my cock from my body all I care.
Rose.
Atlas.
Declan.
We can’t fail.
We won’t fail.
If we fail, we have to fight to the death to get them back.
My eyes lock on Liesel, and her jealousy vanishes. She’s no longer concerned that a sadistic woman is doing god knows what to my cock right now. She realizes why there are only men here—sick men who want our daughter.
Phoenix and her family were hurt more than we thought, and she plans on making us pay. All of these men know who we are, and they are going to do everything they can to destroy us, to hurt us. Humiliating us on this flimsy stage is the least of what they plan on doing.
They don’t know who we are, though. There may be doubt about whether Liesel and I truly love each other, but there is no doubt that we love our children. They don’t know the depths we will go to to protect them.
They’re about to find out.
10
Siren
I don’t know how I didn’t realize it before, but in a flash, a flip in my mind switches, and I realize what’s happening.
Why there are only men in the room playing the game.
Why Zeke and I are the only ones completing the bets.
Why it’s us versus them.
Atlas is the prize.
If we fail…no, there is no failing.
I felt that before, but I feel it even stronger now.
We won’t lose. We won’t back down. Even if the game is purposefully rigged against us, it won’t stop us.
Langston may feel like I betrayed him before, but everything I did was out of love for him. He’s like a brother to me, same to Zeke. We will do whatever it takes to keep his child safe.
That�
�s what keeps me going round after round.
It’s what keeps me walking up on the shady stage that feels like it will collapse under my feet every time I take a step. It’s what keeps me removing clothing item after clothing item until I’m naked in front of a room full of men. Until I’ve bled all I can. Until I no longer feel humiliated from their stares and chuckles. Until I’ve given up all of myself.
It’s a small sacrifice if it means I get to save an innocent child.
I look over at Zeke, who is now seated at the same table as me.
There are only three of us left: Zeke, me, and a man in a suit who miraculously has never lost a single hand. Zeke and I seem to lose every round, and with each one, more blood and clothes.
Zeke stares back at me with a heaviness. He’s calmer than I’ve ever seen him as he sits naked except for dried blood. His blood coats his skin, his beard, his hair. There are gashes all over his body from being whipped, beaten, tortured. Pain should be oozing off his body in waves; it should be all I feel from him. Instead, he feels as calm as the ocean after a storm—my steady hulk of a man.
I smile with newfound determination in my eyes. This man that I chose to spend my life with, that I love with everything in my being, is proving once again that he will fight by my side no matter what atrocities we face. Somehow, Zeke has me falling for him all over again.
I’ve never met a braver man.
A stronger one.
A more selfless one.
I know how hard this is for him, watching me get hurt and not doing anything. Yet, I can see in the tenseness of his muscles that he’s always ready to fight. One move too far from one of these goons, and he’ll spring into action, sacrificing himself to save me.
If we die, we die together. We die protecting an innocent child who is loved by us just as much we love our own child.
I wish we didn’t live in a world filled with so much evil. But I can understand the pain of a woman who lost the love of her life and her children. Just thinking about losing Zeke or Atlas in this game has me spiraling into a place I can’t even think about.