by Abigail Cole
Convince him to let you play for your life, he can’t resist a game with high stakes.
“Garrett, get up,” I command, flashing the note for him to read. We share a concerned look and turn as one to race into the casino. Worry claws at my heart as we burst through the doors, the knowledge that so much is at stake almost more than I can bear. Whoever left this note clearly meant for Avery to see it, and if she hasn’t, I dread to think what’s happening right now.
Meg
Warm arms circle me, rhythmic breathing skating across my nape. How can something so wrong feel so damn right? I shouldn’t crave Wyatt the way I do, but last night he barrelled through my defences and left me bare. There wasn’t a place he didn’t touch, physically and otherwise. Every inch of my skin tingles with the memory of his touch, especially the tender flesh between my legs. His tongue devoured me like a savage, wringing an onslaught of emotion from me as my toes curled and walls clamped around his fingers. And that was before he took me, the full length of his shaft imbedded in me whilst he held my eye contact. No pretending I was someone else or shamefully thrusting in the dark, his emerald green eyes gave me their full concentration as if he wouldn’t have wanted anyone else right then.
The sun creeping into a pink and orange sky doesn’t bring the regret I’d expected to feel, instead a strange contentment has me sinking deeper into his hold whilst staring out of the window. I can almost imagine this is how life could be, if mine wasn’t due to end in the near future. I don’t know why I was brought here or what will happen next, but for one moment I’m glad I was given the chance to feel worshipped and adored. Maybe this was like my last meal before my death sentence is delivered, which would mean Wyatt’s basically been pimped out to me but I’m too sated to complain.
His fingers twitch against my stomach before trailing up my torso, between my breasts and stopping on my chin. Twisting my head, he leans over to kiss me passionately. I’d expected to be tossed out of the bed as soon as he woke, but his lips begged me to stay. Slanting across mine with longing mingled within their soft caress, his hands turning me into the curve of his body. His cock juts between us, his morning glory living up to its name and pressing into my hip. I groan against his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip in to coax mine out. Our limbs tangle, unable to get close enough.
Lifting my leg in the crook of his arm, he slides into my wetness in one easy movement with a moan like he needed that much as much as I did. Languid strokes of his dick grazing my G-spot, gently kneading my breasts without releasing my mouth long enough to breathe properly. I’m torn between needing the escape from the reality he’s offering and wanting him to lay me to ruin. To cherish and fuck me simultaneously like it’s my last day on earth.
Rolling me onto my back, Wyatt looms over me. His broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms block the rest of the world out of view, only me and him existing for now. I run my fingernails down the length of his spine, his firm ass clenching with each steady thrust. A choke rises in my throat, thoughts of this being the last time I am wanted churning in my mind. Reaching up to grab a handful of his brown hair, I yank his head aside and hiss into his ear. “Faster.” I demand, desperate to break the intimacy.
“No,” he replies simply. Gripping my wrists, he lifts them either side of my head and watches me intently. His hair flicks forward but he doesn’t break his gaze, watching me moan and squirm beneath him. I try to kiss his enticingly close lips, but he deflects me with a grin, refusing to be distracted. A flutter in my lower abdomen builds to an intensity that has me gasping, my limbs prickling in anticipation. I pointlessly wriggle to break free from his stare, my building orgasm making me bite back a groan.
“Look at me,” his voice says softly. I shake my head, clenching my eyes closed instead. My thighs lock around his waist, trying to slow his relentless rhythm so I can hold onto this blissful feeling of impending release for a little while longer. “See how much you affect me,” he steals a quick kiss which has me staring into his handsome face. His stubble is becoming more of a permanent feature, making his square jaw and green eyes more prominent. Strain pulls at his features a moment before I feel him erupt inside me, his climax triggering mine like a bulldozer ploughing through my centre.
Refusing to look away, we hold each other’s gaze as we groan in unison. Releasing my wrists, I immediately latch onto his body and ride the waves giving me a new lease of life with each roll of my core. My walls clamp around him with an impossibly tight squeeze, milking his every drop as my nails pierce his chest. Sweat lines our bodies as we pant together, goose bumps covering my flesh.
“Why didn’t I see you sooner?” he breathes, resting his forehead against mine as a door further within the suite bursts open. The sound of thumping boots race towards the bedroom, Wyatt jolting to pull some boxers on while I have no choice but to hold the cover tightly around my body. A small army of men appear in the doorway, guns strapped to their backs as they all lunge for Wyatt and restrain him between them.
My eyes fly between them frantically, Wyatt’s shouts filling the entire penthouse as Ray Perelli steps into the room. A cruel smile is rooted into his wrinkled lips as he regards me, a shiver of dread telling me we’ve played directly into his hand.
“Sleeping with the enemy, son? I don’t know whether to be proud or disappointed in you. Either way, you’ve broken your promise to me.” Clicking his bony fingers, the guards instantly drag Wyatt away as if he were as light as a feather, his animated struggles meaning nothing as he’s ripped from my sight. I pull the sheet around me tighter, my heart being torn from my chest and carried away with the guy I just completely and unashamedly fell for.
A woman emerges next, her shoulder-length brown hair swaying with each step she takes towards me. Knee-high boots are laced above a dark pair of jeans, her top half covered by a charcoal grey coat with a tie at the waist. In her hands is a lengthy clothing bag, which she places beside me on the bed without any trace of an expression. I now notice Ray is dressed in a full suit, despite the early hour.
“Get dressed and join me for breakfast.” Perelli has turned by the time the last word leaves his lips, his command non-negotiable. The woman remains standing by my bedside, her eyebrow arching in a challenge to fight her. Huffing, I grab the bag and stride into the bathroom, the sheet firmly in place as I go. Hooking it on the back of the door once closed, I slump into a heap on the tiled floor and rest my head in my hands. I can sense this is the final stretch of Perelli’s revenge plot, but it isn’t me I’m worried for right now. What will they do to Wyatt and why did his last glance back at me seem so filled with regret? Regret for the things we should have realised and for the feelings we should have put into words.
I pick myself up off the floor, figuring I won’t be given long to myself and hop into the shower. My hand glides between my legs, the throbbing still present as I force myself to clean Wyatt’s mess away. Watching his seed swirl down the drain, I press my fingers to my lips and hold a sob at bay. It’s not like we picked the best moment to find each other, there could never have been a happily ever after for us but at least we had last night. The most perfect night which will stay with me until I take my last breath.
Drying off, I wrap the towel around my head and unzip the clothing bag. A black halter neck dress stares back at me, silver gems forming a repetitive geometric pattern all around. Below the criss-cross neckline, there’s a gaping hole which will show off plenty of cleavage as well as having an open back. Well there’s no point moaning or refusing, so I slip the dress over my head and pull it down to the slender hem at my knees. A pair of black heels are hooked onto the hanger which I also don, brushing my hair through my fingers and leaving to air dry.
Emerging from the bathroom, the woman is waiting in the same position I left her with her arms crossed. Having removed her coat, a shiny police badge sits on her hip which I eye curiously but she doesn’t seem to notice. Sighing loudly, she crosses the room to plant me on a stool before a vanity and
mumbles about ‘grooming spoilt brats not being a part of her job description’. I chew on the inside of my cheek while she dries and styles my hair into loose curls and then turns her attention to my face, the roughness of her power application making me snarl.
Finally, fully dolled up, I’m permitted to leave what I’m sure is the worst part of torture I’ll face today and find Perelli eating at a dining table by the unused kitchenette. An empty plate sits before him, his nose buried in a newspaper as I take the opposite seat and pick at the breakfast laid out for me. Half a pain au chocolat and a yogurt later, I clear my throat to grab his attention.
“What am I doing here?” Perelli looks around as if he’s only just noticed where he is, my eyes rolling impatiently. “Why am I out of the dungeon? This wasn’t in the plan I overheard you tell Wyatt.” My gut twists as I say his name, silently hoping he won’t be punished too much. I’m a dead woman walking anyway, he can lay all the blame on me and my irresistible body if that makes it easier on him.
“Have you ever wondered why a killer whale flings a baby seal around with its tails before gorging on it?” The glint in his eye shows how intelligent he thinks he is, but I’m not easily impressed. Essentially, he’s brought me here to toy with me, have a little fun before snuffing out my light. Except in his metaphor, he’s pegged himself as the predator and me as the meek pray. Hah.
“Mmmm, yet despite being the biggest creatures on the planet, the whale lazily chooses to feed on krill scavenging bottom-feeders. Is that why you pry on offspring of your enemies, because you’re too lazy to find the real deal?” His smile drops as he refuses to answer and throws his newspaper down, using the table to push himself upright. Once standing as straight as he can manage, he holds out his arm to me which I simply quirk a brow at. Pulling his cell from his pocket, he taps the touch screen before turning the screen to face me. A live stream of Wyatt is displayed, blood dripping down his bare torso but I can’t see his injuries as his head in hanging forward limply. Fuck. My heart squeezes and my hands twist around the arms of the chair, on the verge of sweeping out this malicious old man’s legs with it.
“Play along and he won’t be hurt anymore.” Pocketing the cell, Perelli offers me his arm again which I stand to accept without complaint. The crooked cop joins the room with her phone pressed to her ear just in time to step into the elevator we’ve entered, generic music carrying us all the way to the bottom floor. The hotel lobby is as grand as the penthouse, no expense spared on the miniscule details only those with more money than sense would pick up on. The cop mutters her apologies and veers off the second the doors open, leaving Ray and I to cross the black marble floor, and push through a set of glass doors and step into the bustling casino beyond.
Despite being barely morning, people are dressed finely to wander the stretches of slot machines and huddle around roulette tables. My heels push against a spongy carpet, the repetitive logo of Harbour Bridge’s outline spanning in front of me. Lights flashing and fumes of visitor’s smoking inside start to stir a headache within me, the peaceful solitude of my cell more appealing right now. Ray’s grasp is surprisingly tight for his age, tugging me through the crowds when I attempt to see where the sudden uproar of cheers has come from.
Guards keep their distance, their black outfits blinking between the machines as we travel through the centre aisle towards a set of opaque double doors at the other end. This section of the casino is weirdly muted, only the tinks and clanks of machine levers being pulled, or buttons being tapped. No one speaks, merely hunched forward and then leaning back on a huff in quick succession.
The ceiling is littered with shiny domes across its hand painted expanse, cameras hidden within so I can’t see which way they are facing. Two bald men security uniforms stand between us and the doors Ray has led me to, instantly parting to open the doors for their employer. Inside is dark, a low hum of mumbling reaching out to draw me in. Something tells me not to enter but I don’t have any other choice since I’m not the one who will suffer for my actions from here on out. Either Perelli is more cunning than I thought, or he got lucky, but the only way to keep me in line is to threaten someone I care about – which now includes Wyatt evidently.
The guard leans over as we pass through to whisper to his boss although I can hear every word. “You have a guest.” A cruel smile lifts Perelli’s lips, his pace upping as I’m pulled into the dimly lit lounge. Blue LED bulbs lining the ceiling and floor match the light emanating from behind a bar at the back, waitresses dressed in lingerie gliding through filled booths to serve a full house of greying gentlemen. All their eyes are glued on a slender woman artfully spinning around a pole at the front, black hearts covering her nipples being the extent of her clothing.
I know where we are headed before Perelli begins to walk me to the booth in the far corner, the curved suede seat raised to have a clear view over the whole lounge. A net curtain has been half pulled across the front, the outline of a figure sitting inside the booth just visible. Crooked Cop veers away, heading for the bar with purposeful strides while Perelli pulls me up the wide steps and draws back the curtain. My eyes land on the other half of me, the one I’ve missed so dearly but would rather have never seen again than know she was in danger too. Oh Aves, what the fuck are you doing here?
Avery
“Meg!” I try to jump up from my seat, but my hands are cuffed behind me, the chain resting through a metal loop poking out between the padding. Unlike the rest of the seating in the lounge, there is no table before me, only a bare circle of carpet and various hoops attached to the curtain rail for bondage equipment to be fastened to. I shudder to think of how many women have sold their bodies to a monster like Perelli, strung up like puppets for his own amusement but I suppose everyone has their price. Meg shoves out of Perelli’s fragile arm to rush to me, throwing herself around my body in a painfully tight grip. I rest my head on her shoulder, my heart finally cementing back in place after all this time. I don’t care that my death is in sight, one last hug from my twin and best friend all I need to endure whatever Perelli is about to bring my way.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she whispers into my ear, sitting beside me but not letting go.
“Nothing would have kept me away.” We both look to a smirking Perelli, completely at his mercy which is laughable since he is incapable of any. Two guards’ step in either side of him with malice in their expressions, a promise of inescapable pain heading our way. I glance around, figuring our current arrangement is too public for an execution right here, but given who runs this establishment I wouldn’t put it past everyone present to give Perelli a solid alibi. Mellow music plays in the background while hordes of older men gawp at the beautiful woman on stage, no one speaking or wolf-whistling like you’d expect, as if her curves have them under a spell.
“I’ve waited so long for this- “His words are interrupted by a holler from nearer to the stage.
“Boooooo! Where’s the men? Ray Perelli may be one old ball sack, but surely he’s heard of gender equality!” A collective breath is sucked in across the whole room, the woman on stage halting with wide eyes and slowly backing up like a bomb is about to explode. Perelli’s hands clench in time with his jaw, spinning slowly on the heels of his dress shoes. His guards are gone in an instant, hunting down the interruption as a stampede of men drive from their seats and run for the exit. Two silhouettes remain seated at the front, not bothering an escape attempt as if they wanted to be caught.
The pair are dragged from their seats roughly, the guards not so accidently throwing them into tables on their way back to their master. With each thud of a table to the stomach or chair leg to the shin, a manic laughter I seem to recognise fills the air more and more. Soon, there is a tall guy with floppy hair forced to knee before Perelli, his hazel eyes searching for me and then winking in the blue lighting. The other arrives a second later, this one much more cooperative with a suspiciously similar Afro to the one I left far behind in Atlanta and my hear
t.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, shaking my head. I can’t even pretend to be surprised, knowing at least Dax wouldn’t have let me walk away while he still felt there was a chance for us. At least if he had, his heart would have been mostly intact to be given to another. The idea makes me irrationally jealous, but his happiness is more important to me than my own.
“I know who you are, and had expected some sort of rescue attempt but this seems a little lacking, don’t you think?” Perelli is looming over Garrett, who is grinning like the Cheshire Cat while I focus my questioning stare on Dax. His stunning blue eyes flick to me apologetically before puffing his chest out and taking control of Perelli’s attention.
“Do you or do you not consider yourself a fair man?” He asks boldly, quoting the wording from the note he must have found. Perelli’s head swings to the side, his posture growing rigid from the accusation. “You’ve had a target on the twin’s heads since they were conceived. I think it’s time you gave them the chance to win back their freedom.”
“And what do you have in mind?” Perelli bites back. Dax doesn’t falter in his confidence, a new forceful side of him coming to light. I share a concerned look like Meg, who is clutching onto my arm like we might start to merge into conjoined twins if she holds on tight enough.
“A game in your casino of your choosing. I will play for Avery’s life and Garrett will pay for Meg’s.”
“Erm, no. I don’t think so.” I pipe up, not letting a man swoop in to save my ass when I’m perfectly capable of saving myself. “We will play for ourselves and the game will be blackjack.” Perelli glances over his shoulder at me, the smirk back in place and a new light dancing in his eyes.