by Lucy Leroux
Forced to try Chao’s now, she prayed the wound she’d inflicted on Dante had been bad enough to distract them from picking up her purse when they’d snatched her.
If they knew about Chao’s, she lost her last best hope. But she no longer had a choice. Her funds were at critical levels. Getting ready for the night at the casino made it even worse.
Thrift shops were more expensive than she realized. It took her the better part of a day to find a black dress that fit in the bargain bins. Shoes were even more difficult. After the fourth thrift store, she settled for a pair of awful stilettos she could barely walk in.
Those shoes were her downfall. The bouncer at the door was new. He hadn’t recognized her. When the heel on her four-dollar pumps broke on the steps, he turned her away.
Chao’s had standards, and she didn’t look like a VIP member anymore.
It’s true what people say—desperation is a perfume. People could smell it on you.
Tahlia shuddered, the last traces of her crying jag wearing off. She bent to take off the broken heel.
Without tools, there was no salvaging it—not in a way that would last for more than a few steps.
Tahlia grimaced, trying to snap the remaining heel off, but unlike its partner, this one held fast.
Damn it. Huffing, she began to hammer the shoe against the concrete wall next to the dumpster.
The seventh blow knocked the thin spike off the shoe. Once she was done, she had a very uncomfortable pair of flats—but to her eye, they appeared even. She was presentable.
You can do this. Tahlia fisted her hands, giving herself a stern pep talk before rounding the corner to try again. That bouncer wasn’t going to stop her this time. If he did, she would demand to see Chao personally.
She walked up to the staircase, her shoes scraping the pavement instead of tapping the way heels did. The quieter shoes saved her life. She was almost there when she realized her cousin Dante was less than ten feet away.
Tahlia reared back, diving around the corner. Shit. Had he seen her?
Cowering behind the dumpster, she waited for the sounds of pursuit, but nothing came.
Tahlia put her hand over her heart. They found the marker…but how did Dante know she would be there tonight? Or was one of them staking out the place every night?
The latter seemed more likely. It wasn’t as if either of her cousins had jobs—not unless being an asshole counted as a profession.
Oh, my God. If her heel hadn’t broken, she’d be inside now. It would have all been over.
What am I going to do now? Tahlia dug her nails into her palm, a trick she learned in childhood to jolt her brain into action. It worked.
You’re going to stop being an idiot. Chao’s was an institution, but it wasn’t the only underground gambling den in the world. Rooms like this opened and closed all the time. The other ones she knew in Boston were defunct, but one of her online poker forums kept a running tab. Most were listed in New York.
I should have gone there from the start. Staying in Boston had been stupid. In fear and apprehensions of the unknown, she’d clung to the familiar sites of her adopted city, the only one she’d ever been to outside of her hometown in Florida.
New York was intimidating to the average person, but for someone like her—with little to no experience of the outside world—it was a terrifying prospect. But Tahlia was at rock bottom. Any more bad luck and she’d be on the streets selling her body.
Wouldn’t that be the ultimate irony? After years spent under lock and key, she was contemplating prostitution as a viable option.
At least I won’t have to hitchhike to New York. The bus that ran from Chinatown to the city was cheap enough for her meager funds. She’d find a shelter and then the nearest underground game. Once she replenished her cash, she’d think about getting farther away—someplace warmer. Maybe Oregon. She liked trees. Or Mexico. Warm beaches had a lot of appeal to a native Floridian. Tahlia didn’t look it, but she was half-Cuban and knew a little Spanish. She would get by.
Just knowing Dante was inside Chao’s was enough to make her pick up her pace and get moving. It was almost as if her cousin could see her.
Enough. Tahlia was done living in fear. Her cousin survived their first confrontation, but if they met up again, someone would die. Tahlia strongly preferred that person be Dante or Cain, but if worse came to worst, she would escape again…permanently.
She wouldn’t let them take her alive.
Chapter 7
Trick was having a hard time concentrating on the plans in front of him. His eyes were blurring, and the fine letters were jumping around, but he couldn’t put this off again. He’d promised Liam these blueprints would be approved yesterday.
If only the tiny text on them wasn’t so small. I have to ask those architects to send over a blown-up version.
“Are you even listening to me?”
He lifted his head, staring blankly at his brother. When had Liam come into his office? And why was he wearing one of his charcoal Friday suits on a Wednesday?
“I’m sorry what?” he asked.
Liam clucked his tongue at him. “I’ve been talking at you for five minutes. I can’t even say talking with you because all you’ve done since I walked into the room was grunt. Have you heard a single word I’ve said?”
“Err…”
Liam sighed heavily. “I was just telling you I looked those over yesterday and sent the approval in myself. It was the only way to keep the Sydney expansion on schedule.”
“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” Trick pushed the papers away. His chest tightened, the way it always did when he let one of his siblings down.
His mind couldn’t focus on work. “I got a little behind,” he said, dropping his pen on the desk. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Won’t happen again.”
Liam twitched his slacks up and sat down. “Patrick, this isn’t healthy.”
Uh-oh. His brother had done the pant thing and used his full name.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not feeling up to a lecture right now.”
Liam scowled. “Well, that’s too bad cause you’re getting one anyway…I know you were at Chao’s all last night. And when you were in Miami last week, you hit every casino in town—all the illegal ones.”
He sighed. “I’m a grown man, Liam. I can go to a casino if I want. It’s not like I lost any money.”
“I know you didn’t lose money. I almost wish you had. But you didn’t play at all. You were searching for Tahlia, and you and I both know she’s dea—gone.”
He shook his head. “Even you can’t say it. And until you can, I’m not going to believe it.”
Liam’s eyes filled with sympathy, but he was too stubborn an ass to let it go. “You can’t go on like this, Trick. I hate being painted as the bad guy because I’m realistic. Peyton is hardly speaking to me as it is. She won’t even let me near Maia—as if I would ever say or do anything to hurt Calen’s wife. But you two can’t keep this up. Even that ass Ethan agrees with me. You need to get on with your life.”
Liam leaned back, rubbing his face with one hand. “Don’t get me wrong. I feel bad about what happened to Tahlia. If I could get my hands on the people who hurt her, I would strangle them with my bare hands, if only for Maia’s sake. That being said, I can understand her need to keep the investigation open. Tahlia was a good friend of hers. But you only met the girl once. Once and look at you.” He waved his hand over him. “You’re a huge mess.”
Trick glanced down at himself. His suit was rumpled, and he desperately needed a shave. His tongue also felt like it had a film of nasty mold over it. “So I’ll take a shower. It’s not a big deal. I just…”
Pursing his lip, he struggled to find the words. It was difficult with his mind so muddled. “Have you ever felt an instant connection with someone? Not like finding them attractive, although I did want Tahlia from the start.”
He broke off and rubbed his face. “I’m not sure how to
explain this. It was…as if I’d been permanently distracted, always thinking about the future. My mind was always on what was next and not on what was in front of me. And then Tahlia was there, kicking my ass at cards. For the first time in forever, I felt…awake. I was totally in the present with her. Does that make any sense?”
Liam didn’t say anything.
Trick exhaled. “I know I sound like a crazy person.”
“No, I get what you mean.”
“Really? You’ve felt that?”
“All the time.”
Trick let his disbelief show on his face. “With who?
He hoped Liam didn’t mean Charlotte, the woman he’d been seeing on and off for the last few months.
“Never mind who.” Liam glanced at his watch, waving his question away. “Should I tell Calen you’re not going to make it tonight?”
“Tonight? What’s on tonight?”
This time, Liam openly scowled. “It’s the opening of Eolande, Calen’s new restaurant at the Caislean New York. He flew in that celebrity chef Kari Jones to cook tonight—the one who won that television contest. Everyone is coming. Even Maia, although she hasn’t been feeling well.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I thought that was on Friday.”
“Trick, it is Friday.” Liam snorted. He ran a rough hand through his hair. “Maybe you shouldn’t go. I swear Calen would thank me for locking you in your room tonight—every time Maia sees you, she gets worked up all over again. Ever since you told everyone about Tahlia’s gambling, she’s been running around trying to find out more, just like you. That’s not good in her condition.”
Her what? Trick frowned. “Did I miss something? Is she pregnant again?”
Liam lifted one shoulder. “They haven’t said anything yet, but she’s been sick a lot and she stopped drinking coffee and wine, so I’m pretty sure she’s expecting.”
Damn, his brother noticed everything. Trick had attended all the brunches and dinners with the McLachlan family Liam had, but he hadn’t picked up on those details. And his sister Maggie hadn’t mentioned anything either.
Well, Liam notices almost everything. His brother’s single blind spot was how Peyton felt about him. Given the way things were going, Trick counted that as a blessing.
Liam pushed away from the couch, standing up. “No matter what, don’t mention you went back to that underground casino again or Maia will want to go with you next time.”
Not good. Calen would kill him if that happened. “I’ll be fine tonight,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’m going to take a quick nap first.”
“All right. Copter leaves at six sharp. Don’t be late.”
He nodded, but Liam stood to follow him out to the corridor. “And for all our sakes, please shower. The helicopter is a tight space.”
“Asshole,” Trick muttered, too tired to flip his brother off, before surreptitiously smelling his armpit.
Okay, Liam had a point.
Chapter 8
The opening of Eolande was splashier than he’d expected. As soon as he and his siblings approached the side door that led to the restaurant, paparazzi popped out of the woodwork to snap their pictures. Fortunately for him, his brother-in-law Jason was there. One flash of his FBI badge and the leeches scattered like rats.
Dinner was also delicious. Kari Jones, the chef, had a reputation for being a bit of a diva, but she cooked a damn fine duck breast. The hand-pulled pasta side dish was the perfect accompaniment. It was almost good enough to pull him out of his funk—almost.
All of his friends were there. Sergei and his wife were chatting with Peyton and his siblings. Calen and Maia had left their little girl with the nanny for the night. Even Gio was in town for the occasion, although his wife hadn’t been able to leave her work to join him.
The more the wine and liquor flowed, the more the levity grew. Even Maia smiled once or twice, although his brother had been right about her not drinking. As usual.
Maybe he should consider giving up his search. It didn’t mean he had to close himself off from the investigation. He’d keep his feelers out at all the casinos and card rooms, and he’d double the number of private detectives hired to work the case.
Whatever else was true, Trick couldn’t keep burning the candle at both ends. He would just have to leave the physical searching to someone else from now on.
When everyone was kissing each other goodbye, he wandered outside the hotel’s side entrance. There were still plenty of people out, but this time no paparazzi rushed him for a picture.
Enjoying the moment of solitude, he inhaled, trying to cleanse his head.
Sergei and Eva exited with Gio, chattering about the evening and the great meal.
“Buona notte, my friend,” Gio said, coming over to administer a big bear hug. “Get some rest. You look tired,” he added, before joining the others in the waiting limo.
“I will,” Trick called after him. He didn’t blame Gio for being in a hurry to catch his flight back to England. His smoking hot fiancée Sophia was waiting for him there.
He waved goodbye to the car as it pulled away with a wistful sigh. All his favorite people were pairing up. And I’m still alone because someone took my maybe-soulmate away.
If Liam could hear him now, he’d smack him, and rightfully so. Trick knew thinking that was insane. He’d only spent one night in Tahlia’s company…but it didn’t seem to matter.
How was Maia holding it together? He’d only been aware of this hole inside him for a few months. She’d been living with it for the better part of a year.
Maudlin now, he leaned back to study the night sky, wondering where his favorite constellations were. They were never visible in the city…
He was about to turn to go back inside when someone bumped into him, hitting his left side with a soft crash.
Trick spun, ready to apologize, when he found himself staring into a pair of wide silver-blue eyes.
“Tahlia?”
It was her—the same brown hair and big almond-shaped eyes, but she was wearing a threadbare denim jacket that was much too light for the weather.
Shock lined her too-thin face. For a moment, they simply stared at each other.
“No,” she said, turning away quickly. She hurried down the sidewalk.
Trick blinked. Holy shit. Was he hallucinating?
“No, wait, please!” He went after her, sidestepping around a pedestrian who’d walked between them.
She was getting away. Already she was halfway down the block. Trick started to run, dodging tourists and late-night partiers when Tahlia suddenly veered right, cutting across the street.
“Tahlia!” He turned at the sound of small feet pounding the pavement behind him. Maia had spotted her as well and was running after them.
The rest of his party had finally exited the hotel. Jason was alert, his hand on his weapon. Calen was trying to follow Maia, but the crowd on the busy Manhattan sidewalk had thickened and he couldn’t reach her.
“I’ve got this,” he yelled back to Maia, waving her back.
He sprinted in Tahlia’s direction. Her brown hair was visible, but she was far up the block on the other side of the street now, almost out of sight.
Male shouting and loud honking forced him to turn back around. Maia had ignored him. She followed them into the road, making a taxi swerve into the next lane—but the car that followed it wasn’t slowing down.
Trick pivoted, darting back to snatch Maia out of the path of the oncoming vehicle.
Everyone was shouting. Calen ran into the street after them. Wordlessly, Trick thrust Maia back at her husband before weaving through the traffic to cross the street and run down the block.
He rounded the corner, expecting to see Tahlia, but she was nowhere in sight. He’d lost her again.
Chapter 9
Trick continued to search for Tahlia like a maniac, but he was soon forced to accept he wasn’t going to find her. The crowd was too dense and easy to get lost in. And she had run
away from him—fast.
When he returned to the Caislean NY, the area in front of the side entrance was empty. The doorman directed him inside, up to the family suite.
His brother-in-law Jason opened the door. “What the hell, man? Why did you take off like that? I thought you were going to get flattened by a truck.”
He shrugged. “I went after her. Didn’t you see her?”
Jason blinked at him. “You mean you saw Tahlia, too?”
“I knew it!” Maia was pointing at him triumphantly from the circle of Calen’s arm. She twisted to punch him in the arm. “I told you it was her.”
Liam and Maggie stepped into the foyer from the bar area. Their expressions were carefully blank, but Calen didn’t bother to disguise his feelings.
“I don’t care if it was the fucking Queen of England, you do not run into the middle of the street like a crazy woman!” he snapped. “And no, I’m not going to apologize for yelling earlier. You scared me half to death running in front of that car. If you’d been hit, two lives would’ve been lost.”
Silence. Trick glanced at his brother, who gave him a gloating I-told-you-so smirk.
Maia rolled her eyes and smacked him in the chest before yawning. “You know we’re not supposed to tell people yet. And that taxi stopped like an entire foot away from me.”
“But only about two inches from Trick,” Calen said from behind gritted teeth. “Because of you, he might have been hit.” He turned to Trick with a belligerent air.
“It’s not like it was really Tahlia, was it?” he asked, almost shouting.
Trick froze as all eyes turned to him. “Actually, I think it was. And I did run out there on my own in the first place. Sorry about that,” he said, the last directed more at his brother and sister than their friend.
Calen’s mouth parted. “What?”
Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting that answer.
Jason narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure, Trick? You’ve hardly slept, and there’s a lot of tall brunettes out there. Hell, there are two in this room,” he said, gesturing to Maggie and Peyton.