I backed up, grabbing the whole box and passing it to her. She hugged it to her chest, pulling a fresh one free and holding it under her nose. Dad lowered her gently onto a chair and crouched down beside her.
I hated seeing his tender side. He wasn’t allowed to be kind. He was an asshole who left my mother, gambled away our savings and then ditched us! I wanted to grab the back of his collar and kick him out. She was my mother. I could deal with this shit. We’d been dealing with crap our whole lives and he’d hardly been there for any of it.
My fingers bunched into tight fists as I fought the urge to lash out. Breaths shot through my nose.
“Why?” I barked out the word. “Why were there men in Mom’s house this morning? Why did those guys kill Gramps? And who the fuck is Lucian Marchant!”
I didn’t know how the name came back to me. It just popped into my head—a moment of clarity as I relived those thugs standing in Gramps’ living room, telling me I had to go with them.
Dad rose from his spot with a heavy sigh, slumping onto the sofa and pressing his fingers into his eyes. “I screwed up, okay? I got myself into debt and started conning to get out of it.” He huffed and pulled what looked like a poker chip from his pocket. Tapping it against the arm of the couch, he began flicking it through his fingers.
I crossed my arms, resisting the itch to start pacing.
“I paid back everything I owed including the mortgage on our house. I was clear, but I left you guys nothing more and I wasn’t okay with that.”
“Don’t make yourself out to be a saint,” I spat.
“I’m not.” His calm expression unsettled me. “I have no excuses for my behavior. I was a loser and you both deserved better, but I wasn’t going to leave you high and dry. So, I decided to pull one last con.”
“Marchant,” I muttered.
“Yeah, I, ah...” He scratched his forehead, flicking his eyes to Mom before continuing. “I became Antonio Costa and got in good with Marchant’s wife. I managed to steal five hundred grand, which I figured was enough to keep you guys going. I thought everything was set, but then he found out. So...” He clicked his tongue and started tapping the chip against the chair again.
“So...what?”
Mom cleared her throat. “So, he put the money in a trust fund.” She glanced across at him, a small smiling touching her lips. “You know, I always thought it was you.”
He winked at her.
My face wrinkled with disgust as her cheeks bloomed red. “You told me that came from your parents.”
She shrugged. “What else was I going to tell you? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t about to turn my back on five hundred grand. I wasn’t ready to sell the house and we needed the money.”
“You—Ah!” I threw my hands in the air. “How could you do something so stupid? Take money when you didn’t even know where it came from?”
She swallowed. “It felt right. I can’t explain why, but I did it. I haven’t seen my parents since I was eighteen. I ran away after high school and that was it.”
I balked at the news.
“There was no love lost, believe me.” She looked to the floor and I wished for Caity. I needed her eyes...on both my parents.
“You told me they were dead,” I muttered.
“They are to me.”
My eyes bulged with disbelief and I couldn’t hamper my legs a second more. I paced to the edge of the room and back, feeling like a caged animal.
Liars! I was surrounded by them!
“Look, none of that matters now.” Dad sat forward on the couch. “All I care about is getting you guys somewhere safe. Marchant’s men are not going to give up, not to mention the San Diego Police. They’ll be onto the shooting at Gramps’ house by now. They’re going to come looking for you guys, asking questions, and we can’t have that kind of attention.”
“Aren’t the police there to help us?” Mom sniffed.
“Marchant’s bigger than the SDPD. He’s French mafia and...deadly. We need to disappear, get out of the country.”
“No way.” I shook my head. “I told you, I’m not leaving without Caity.”
“Where is she?” Mom sat forward, gripping the chair as she took in my pale expression.
“I don’t know,” I croaked.
“You don’t...” She frowned. “Eric, what’s going on?”
“Shayna.” Dad moved to her side, taking both her hands.
She gazed down at him and I didn’t need Caity to see the affection she still held toward him. I scowled and paced back to the window.
“Baby, I need to get you away from here. I can’t...” Dad swallowed. “I can’t let him hurt you.”
I spun in time to see Mom smile as she lightly ran her fingers down his face. “Remember how we used to dream of traveling the world, going all the way to New Zealand and back?” Her smile was watery, her lips quivering.
“Yeah, I remember.” Dad grinned, kissing the inside of her wrist. “I can take you there. You’ll be safe and Marchant can’t touch you.”
I scoffed. “She’s not going to New Zealand! That’s ridiculous. We can’t just run away. What, she’s supposed to just buy in to what you’re saying and drop her whole life? What about Cliff? What about her daughters!”
Dad ignored me, holding Mom’s gaze with some kind of super power. “I know it will hurt, but this thing will blow over eventually and then you can come back. The girls are safe with their father and you can—” He grimaced. “You can get a note or something to—to Cliff.”
I shook my head, wanting to scream.
“I can’t lose you, Shay.” He gripped her hand, his thumb running soft circles over her wrist.
I thought she was about to start purring! Her expression melted to putty and I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“You did lose her!” I pointed at him. “The day you walked away and never came back. That was it for us! You don’t deserve a second chance. She’s moved on!”
“Eric, shut your mouth.” Dad rose, looking at me with that calm gaze of his.
I wanted to punch him again. “You put us in this position. You—you’re an asshole and we don’t need you!”
“Yes, we do.” Mom’s voice was soft as she stood beside Dad, threading her fingers through his. “But Eric’s right about the girls. Will they be safe?”
Dad held his breath for a moment before letting out a short sigh. “Marchant wants his money back...and even though he thinks I’m dead, he wants my family to pay. Those girls aren’t my family. He won’t be interested in them, but I’m still going to make sure he can’t touch any of us.”
“What are you going to do?” She gripped his arm.
He ran his fingers through his floppy hair. “As soon as you and Eric are someplace safe, I’m going to resurrect myself and return his cash.”
“No.” Mom shook her head. “You can’t do that. He’ll kill you.”
“Shayna, baby, it’s okay. All that matters is that you and Eric are safe.”
I rolled my eyes and groaned.
Dad threw me a sharp look.
I met it head on. “Safe? If you wanted to keep us safe, you should have stayed the hell away.”
“I did!” He finally snapped, the calm facade being pushed aside. “I’ve stayed in the shadows for the last eight years trying to assure that Marchant could never connect anything back to you or your mother.”
“Then how the hell did he find us?” I threw my arms wide.
“I don’t know,” Dad barked. “Something alerted him. I can’t figure out what triggered all of this, but somehow he managed to find out that Antonio Costa was my fake ID. Somehow he uncovered a trail that I have spent years trying to hide.” The desperation in Dad’s voice sounded so genuine. I had no response and so he kept going, his voice sounding more broken. “It must have been some hacking genius that unearthed it. The thing I can’t figure out is that my Antonio backstory was solid. I was a single man with no ties and he thinks I’m dead, so why would he star
t looking?”
An awkward silence followed his question. Nobody had any answers. Mom’s quiet sniffle was the only thing to break the heavy stillness.
Dad’s voice was only just a whisper. “I know I’ve let you guys down repeatedly, but I tried to make it right and I stayed away to keep it right, but now Marchant knows and he’s going to be looking for major payback. I refuse to let that happen to you guys.” He turned to Mom, appealing to the major soft spot she obviously still had for him. “Please, let me get you out of here.”
Mom pressed her lips together, fresh tears covering her cheeks. “Okay.” Her head bobbed. “Okay, let’s go.”
“No.” I stood my ground, pulling back my shoulders. “I told you, I’m not leaving without Caity.”
“Please, Eric.” Mom closed her eyes. “Just—Let’s go and when this is over, we can come back for Caity.”
With a pitiful laugh, I shook my head. It felt like a useless endeavor trying to explain my crisis to either of them. They didn’t want to hear it, just as much as I didn’t want to tell it.
I walked to the door.
“Eric!” Mom warned. I turned back and gave her a silent farewell then walked out before she could say more.
She screamed my name a couple of times, forcing me into a run. I was in my jeep and screaming out of the parking lot before Dad could even get down the stairs.
7
Caitlyn
I took my time in the shower. At first I was scrubbing quickly, hating the idea of being naked anywhere near these lecherous men, but then I remembered the locked door and Sal standing watch, and my body started to relax. The hot spray soaked into my aching muscles and as the glass fogged over, I felt safe in my little cocoon. I savored the feeling, knowing it would end eventually.
My fingers were turning prune-like when there was a thumping at the door. I covered my chest, flicking off the shower and pressing myself into the wall.
“Your time is up! Santiago is waiting for you.”
It was Sal. Thankfully, his deep voice didn’t frighten me the way Santiago’s did.
“O-okay. I’m getting out.”
I snatched the towel off the railing and pulled it back into the warm stall, wrapping it around myself securely before venturing into the room.
Much to my relief it was empty. I rushed to put on the clothes and black pumps left for me. Having not bothered to dry properly, it was an effort to pull the tight pants up over my damp skin, but I managed. The shirt I’d been left was black and fitted. By the time I was dressed, I looked like the back-stage crew at some rock concert. In spite of the tightness of the pants, the clothes felt a hell of a lot safer than that gold dress, so I wasn’t about to complain. Towel-drying my hair, I used my fingers to undo the tangles and quickly gave up, running into the bathroom to hunt for a brush.
I found a wide-tooth comb, perfect for my hair. I pulled it through my large curls and arranged them as neatly as I could.
Sal was soon pounding on my door again. “Hurry up!”
I leaned toward the mirror to quickly study my face. My cheek was still a little puffy, but there was no black and blue bruising. People would have to look pretty closely to spot anything.
I stepped into the room just as Sal opened the door.
“I’m ready.” I forced a smile as he looked me up and down.
Taking my arm, he pulled me out of the room. “It is never a good idea to keep Mr. Gomez waiting.”
“I’m sorry. You won’t get in trouble, will you?”
He looked down at me and I ripped off his mask. There was sadness in his expression, a pain buried deep. I didn’t have time to unearth the layers, but I was comforted to know that the man had no interest in hurting me. He worked for Santiago Gomez and he was loyal, but he wasn’t sadistic and I felt myself relax just a little more. If Santiago kept him as my guard, I was going to be okay.
Sal led me to the elevator and the doors pinged open to reveal Bruno. His right eyebrow arched as Sal guided me in...and then he stepped back.
“You’re not coming with me?” I tried to keep the fear out of my voice, but it was damn near impossible.
“Bruno will accompany you from here.” Sal’s mask was still off and I didn’t miss the slight cringe just before the doors slid shut.
I subtly took a step away from Bruno, but it didn’t work. The second the elevator began dropping, he pushed me against the wall, grinding into me.
“Let me go.” I hated the way my voice shook. I didn’t want him to sense my fear. “I have a deal with Santiago. You have to respect it.” My words were short and punchy.
Bruno smirked, thrusting his hips against me.
“He’ll see you,” I snapped. “Casinos have cameras everywhere.”
“Not in Santiago’s private elevator,” he sniggered.
My breath evaporated, my lips parting before I could stop them.
The delight he took in my expression was repulsive. I hardened my gaze, willing him not to reach back and press the emergency stop button.
His leering eyes stayed on my face as he ran the back of his finger down my cheek. “I know what my uncle said to you at breakfast this morning. I am very much looking forward to you making a mistake.” He dropped his hand, grabbing my butt and giving it a tight squeeze. “You’ll be like an early Christmas present,” he whispered in my ear, lightly licking my lobe before pulling away from me.
I stayed against the wall, my fingers pressed into the shiny black interior, my heart banging so erratically I could almost feel the pending heart attack.
Bruno straightened his jacket and turned to face the front. The elevator stopped at the second floor and he grabbed my arm, pulling me out with a roughness that I could see he loved.
It was an effort to stop my mind from shattering. I had to keep headstrong in order to survive this, but all I could imagine was me slipping up, not being what Santiago wanted and then...
I stole a look at Bruno’s profile, my imagination flying so wild it actually paralyzed me. My legs buckled and he hauled me back up, throwing me a confused scowl.
He kept up a quick pace and I wobbled along beside him. A few strides later, we stopped outside a frosted glass door. Bruno punched a number into the black keypad and we entered a quiet room that buzzed with the gentle, yet frenetic, hum of a security room.
I took in the wall-to-wall monitors, watching black and white, fuzzy people mulling about the casino. I’d never seen so many screens in my life. I didn’t know how they monitored them all.
Santiago turned as the door behind us clicked shut.
“Ah! My prize. Come.” He flicked his hand, indicating I step further into the room.
Security guards eyed me curiously, but one look from Bruno and their heads snapped back to the screens.
Taking me by the elbow, Santiago walked me further into the room.
“This is my security hub.” He spread his arms, pride flashing over his features.
“Yes, I can see that.”
He didn’t appreciate my dry reply. I swallowed and forced a smile to counter his dark glare.
Clearing my throat, I reclaimed my elbow from his grasp and turned to scan the rest of the room. “Why did you bring me in here?”
Leaning down to my ear, he whispered. “I want you to use your eyes. I need you to read faces and tell me if there are any cheaters in my casino.”
He pointed at the screens and my stomach sank.
“You want me to—” I pointed in line with his fingers. “I can’t. There are too many.”
“Oh, I know, I know. This is a test, my dear.” He smiled. “Look at the black jack table over there.”
Placing his hand on my lower back, he guided me toward monitor #58.
“That man in the pale jacket has been playing the same table for nearly three hours, with a few short breaks. He is doing remarkably well, but I cannot see any cheating.” Santiago looked disappointed. “I want you to read him for me.”
“Okay.” I cle
ared my throat and gazed at the screen, squinting and trying to peel back the layers.
It didn’t work.
I bit my lower lip and tried again, leaning toward the screen and straining to pull off his mask.
Still nothing.
Scanning the other people in the fuzzy shot, I tried to do the same, but nothing.
“Well?” Santiago nudged me.
“I can’t...” I shook my head. “It’s not working. I can’t take his mask off.”
Santiago’s eyes narrowed, his mask-less face showing me a hot, quick anger.
I spoke into it before it had time to explode. “I think it must be the screens. I can’t read people over a monitor. I need to see their faces...in person.”
My quick answer seemed to appease him a little. Crossing his arms, his bottom lip stuck out for a moment and finally, he nodded.
“Okay.” He clicked his fingers. The security guard closest to him jumped in his seat. “Yes, sir.”
“Call Sal down. I want him to take Carlotta for a walk around the casino floor.”
“Yes, sir.” The security guard picked up his phone and put in the call.
I pinched my hands together, hoping like hell my TV monitor theory was right. Feeling a presence behind me, I flinched and looked over my shoulder.
Bruno was staring down at me, an arrogant smirk perched on his lips.
“Let’s hope you’re right.” He ran his finger down my arm. “It’d be a shame for you to fail a test so quickly.”
I stepped away from him, nearly crashing into Santiago.
He spun around to see what was going on but much to my disgust, Santiago didn’t even flinch. With a frown, I threw on Bruno’s mask to double-check my suspicions and saw his expression was one of pure innocence.
I bit the inside of my cheek and silently seethed.
Santiago eyed us both carefully and turned back to listen to the security guard.
Poker Face (Masks #4) Page 4