High Stakes

by Pierce, Nicolette

  “And if your brother is dead like it was assumed?”

  “Then I go back to the family and slowly run the business into the ground. Hopefully I don’t get killed in the process. The likelihood that I’ll walk away alive is slim.” His eyes darkened into shadows.

  I shivered and felt the pressing weight from his burden. “How is D involved?”

  “He’s working for a special interest and has been watching my family for a couple of years. I’m not sure what their intention is, but they want the information like everyone else.”

  I was struggling to wrap my head around this. Sergio . . . the head of a drug family? And here I originally thought he was goofy and awkward.

  “And if he’s alive?”

  “Then I find him and bring him back. If he’s alive, then he’s hiding and up to no good. He needs to end this before it gets out of hand.”

  “You’re already a mile beyond that,” Muffin said.

  “Why was the information inside the trophy? Why didn’t they just email the data?”

  “I’ve known for quite some time that my brother was tapping into my email and phone calls. I’m assuming my cousin is monitoring me now. Other drug families will hack into accounts too. And the military can use their own resources to do whatever they want. Either way, anything sent electronically would be at risk. Everyone in the family circle knows not to use email or phone. The trophy was made in French Guiana, where the DNA sample was taken. It was then sent to Panama to go undetected by customs. It was supposed to be traded out with the real trophy by our casino insiders, but there was a mix-up. Uncle Santos owns the casino, so it should have been an easy swap.”

  “Uncle Santos owns the casino?”

  “How else could he afford all of his airplanes?”

  “He could have flown me in a better plane!”

  Sergio’s lips twitched into a smile weighted with darkness.

  Oh no! I just told David I had the card while I was on the phone, and I sent the file to my email address. If either of those were intercepted, they will know I have it.

  Sergio’s phone rang. “Yes?”

  I watched him carefully to see if there was any expression change.

  “Where is he?” Sergio’s eyes rested on me and a chill of the unknown creeped inside. “I’ll be right there.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked as he ended the call.

  “They think they’ve found Dagor and possibly Pierre.”

  If Sergio left, then I was free to meet David before anyone would miss me.

  “Stay here,” he ordered. “Muffin, you’re in charge of the door.”

  “This is getting old,” she said. “I’ve got my new apartment to rearrange.”

  “It’s still my apartment,” I said.

  “Then why is your furniture out in the hallway?”

  “Because you put it there!”

  Sergio gave me a kiss on the cheek and ducked out of the apartment. Muffin shut the door after him.

  Mya slid up to me. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

  “Tell him what?” Muffin asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I’m going to the corner store.”

  “But it’s too dangerous,” Mya said. “Sergio said to stay here.”

  “He’s also currently the head of a drug family. I’m not doing what he says. Muffin, let me out.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because if I die while I’m at the store, then you can have my apartment free and clear. But you have to feed Gus.”

  Muffin pried the door open. “Bon voyage!”

  “Muffin!” Mya scolded.

  “I’ll be back soon,” I said, running before either could shut the door in front of me.

  I waited a couple of minutes before I pressed the elevator button, allowing Sergio enough time to leave the building without accidentally running into him.

  I tapped my foot in the elevator. My priority was to find David and ask him why he wanted the memory card. I understood why Sergio wanted it, and I was okay with it. From what I understood of our conversation, he had to stop a drug war or a family war—maybe even military action. Either way, stopping a war is a good thing. I wasn’t sure what David’s plan was.

  I stepped onto the dark street. Only a few streetlights lit my path to the corner store, which was four or five blocks down the road. I trekked quickly, turning to peek behind me every so often. It was eerie on the dark road knowing I had the key to a wanted drug lord’s DNA.

  I focused on the sound of my footsteps. If I only had to think about footsteps, then I didn’t have to think about anything else . . . not Sergio being part of a drug family, secret DNA, Greyson and Fiona, and not even my destroyed apartment. It’s just me and my footsteps . . . and someone else’s!

  Crap!

  I quickened my pace to a near jog. The footsteps matched mine. I flashed my eyes behind me while I ran faster. It was Dagor.

  “I know you have it!” Dagor shouted, keeping up with me. He was only a few feet away. His arm reached out to capture me.

  “I don’t have it.”

  Dagor whacked his arm across my back. I stumbled and tripped on a sidewalk crack. Unable to catch myself, my skin grated against the concrete as I crashed to the ground.

  Dagor clutched the back of my shirt. “Your phone call was monitored. We know you have it. Sergio was lured away so you could leave.”

  So, the phone call had been monitored. If his laptop was monitored, they wouldn’t need the memory card or me because they’d already have the information. They didn’t know I’d sent the information to my email. Sergio’s men were obviously not loyal to him. At least they didn’t have the information . . . yet.

  “You can have it. Let me reach into my pocket and get it.” I could put up a struggle and accidentally destroy the card.

  Dagor drew his gun and pointed it at my head. “If you try anything funny, I’ll shoot you and take it from your dead corpse.”

  I reached into my pocket. Wrapping my fingers around the memory card, I pushed my thumb in the middle to snap it in half. The rigid plastic hardly bent, let alone snapped. My hand slipped back out of my pocket, leaving the memory card behind.

  “I must have lost it. It must have fallen out of my pocket.”

  “Don’t lie to me. I said I’d shoot you, and I will.” His finger squeezed the trigger. “Say good-bye, bitch.”

  “I have it! Please don’t shoot me,” I screeched.

  “Hand it over,” he growled.

  I reached into my pocket again, brought out the memory card, and passed it to him. He snatched it from my fingers, letting out a thick, dark laugh.

  “Say goodnight, Nadia,” he sneered as his finger moved back onto the trigger.

  “No, wait!” I begged. “Please don’t!”

  “I already told you I was going to kill you after I got the information.”

  “There isn’t anything on the memory card. I erased it.”

  Dagor’s eyes darkened. “You’d better be joking or the Ortugas family will cut you to shreds. And I’ll be there to watch every horrid detail with a smile on my face.”

  “They’re just using you. Do you think Sergio would keep you around?”

  “Sergio is a weakling. His cousin hired me, and I only answer to him.” Dagor smiled. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He extracted a silencer from his pocket with a grin that twitched at the corners. His fingers quickly attached it to his gun while he kept his eyes glued to me.

  “But what about the information I erased?” I asked. “Won’t they need it?”

  “I’ve decided I don’t give a shit what they want. I was hired to obtain the memory card, and I have it. If there isn’t anything on it, it’s not my problem.” He turned his gun on me. A smile slithered to his face.

  I was momentarily blinded by bright headlights from a car barreling down the road. Run into the light. The gypsy had said it, and I had no options. The car was speeding down the street behind Dagor. It was my only chance of
being rescued.

  I snatched the memory card from Dagor and dashed into the road, flagging the racing car to stop. It was too close, and the speed was too fast. I knew there was no way the car could stop in time nor could I move out of the way. I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing I wouldn’t survive.

  Chapter 20

  My body froze in place as brakes shrieked and tires bit the pavement. A whoosh of air pressed against me as the sound of crunching metal and smashing glass blasted through the night air. The burning stench of treading singed from tires made me cough.

  Holy shit! I’m alive? I opened my eyes; I was still standing in the middle of the road. I turned to find the car on the sidewalk behind me. It had veered to avoid me and ran into a light pole. The hood was crumpled, and the front window was smashed. Lifeless airbags draped over the broken dashboard.

  I stepped toward the car. My mind was spinning like a treadmill stuck in high gear, but my body wasn’t keeping up. Were they okay? Perhaps they needed medical attention. Where was Dagor? Where was my adrenaline rush to push me through this?

  I heard running footsteps closing in. Two arms circled around and brought me to the side of the road.

  “Stay here,” he said.

  I nodded. David jogged to the car and peered into the driver’s window. He said something to the person inside and then proceeded around to the front of the vehicle.

  A car with a smashed rear window and bullet holes rolled next to me.

  “What happened?” Mya asked from the passenger seat.

  I took a breath to keep me from stuttering. “Dagor caught me, and then a car swerved to miss me.”

  Mya glanced over to the totaled car. Her breath hitched as she spotted him . . . David.

  “David?” she whispered to herself, not believing what she was seeing.

  He glanced over at the same time she spoke his name. He was caught in the headlights, bright as day and glued to his spot like a deer.

  Mya gaped. “Is that David?”

  I nodded and smiled.

  Tears bubbled up and streamed down her cheeks. She struggled with her seat belt, trying to escape from the car and run to her long-missing husband. David, realizing there was no way out and that his disappearing act was blown, ran to his Mya.

  “David, is that really you?” she cried, yanking on her seat belt. “I can’t get this thing off.”

  David smiled as he watched her struggle. The love in his eyes was full to the brim as he ducked his head into the car to help her. She bounded out of the car and into his arms. Their embrace was something from a war story. The solider returning to his true love. It was full of the pain they had to endure, the struggles they overcame, and the love that was never questioned nor ended.

  I had to look away. It was all too sweet and emotionally charged. I wiped away a stupid tear away that popped up unexpectedly. I jogged over to the crumpled car. It seemed as though Muffin wasn’t a mushy-reunion fan either and followed me over.

  “I thought you were staying at the apartment,” I said.

  “We were, but then Mya saw Catarina drive past. We thought she might give you some trouble.”

  I rounded to the driver’s side and peeked in. Catarina was pinned inside the car with Pierre knocked out cold next to her.

  “Cat, are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yes, stupid! I should have run you over instead of the damn light pole. I didn’t want to damage the memory card in case it was on you. We were tailing Dagor, hoping he would lead us to you.”

  I ignored her comments. “Is he okay?” I asked, pointing to Pierre.

  “I’m sure he’ll live, but there’s a gash on his head. I’ve already called for an ambulance. I better get paid. Do you have the memory card?”

  “I thought it was in the trophy,” I said. “You should get a real job.”

  “I don’t have to get a job. Now that you ruined my car, I’m going to sue you. I’m feeling like I might not be able to walk; at least not until a lot of medical bills are paid and a hefty sum is paid for damages and psychological trauma.”

  Muffin’s hand shot through the window and grabbed a wad of Cat’s hair. She yelped as Muffin yanked on it.

  “You won’t sue her because you’ll have to deal with me. Capisce?”

  “I’ll sue you, too, you gorilla!”

  Muffin glanced at me. “She doesn’t learn, does she?”

  “Nope.”

  With her free hand, Muffin plucked out a pocket knife from her pants pocket. She flipped it open and held it to Cat’s hair.

  “Do you want to keep your hair, or do you want to sue us?” Muffin asked.

  “I can buy hair extensions with the money I’ll win,” she sneered.

  “You might win a settlement, but we have no money. Good luck getting a dime from either of us.” Muffin yanked on Cat’s hair to expose her neck. She scraped the knife edge along her throat. I knew Muffin was a con artist and not a killer, but even I was momentarily afraid for Cat’s life. “You’re trapped like the rodent you are. Do you really want to mess with me? Maybe a deep, ugly scar on your face would keep you in line.”

  Catarina’s eyes bugged out. “Okay! Okay! I won’t sue.”

  “See, that wasn’t so hard.” Muffin said, releasing her hair and pocketing the knife.

  “I hate you!”

  My eyes drifted to the light pole. A bloodstain trailed down it. I hesitantly stepped near the front of the car.

  “Don’t look,” David warned. He strolled toward me, hand in hand with Mya. “It’s Dagor, and he’s beyond dead; splattered is more like it.”

  Fifty pounds of fear, stress, and anxiety shed from my body instantly. Hearing he was dead was like a soothing lullaby. Everything was going to be okay; my life would be normal again.

  “Thank you, Cat,” I said.

  “Whatever,” she replied.

  Sirens shouted their arrival in the distance. I looked over to see Muffin scurrying around, searching for the best place to hide.

  “Damn! There’s no place to go,” she said.

  “Looking for a place to hide?” I asked.

  “Uh, yeah . . . maybe.”

  “Bonnie Lane, I already know about you. If you promise to annul your marriage to Frankie and vacate the building, you can take Mya’s car and stay at my place for tonight only; then you have to leave.”

  Mya wouldn’t let David out of her sight and would tag along with him. Her car was now junk. And Muffin was starting to grow on me. Like a junkyard dog who snarls, makes messes, and doesn’t follow directions, she can be protective and helpful . . . at times.

  “Deal,” she said and took off. She jumped into the car just as the police and ambulance rounded the corner. She peeled down the street.

  The EMTs rushed over to Catarina and Pierre. A brief glance at Dagor told them he was beyond help. I stayed and answered a few questions but knew I needed sleep desperately. I was a physical and emotional plate of spaghetti confusion.

  “Where are you staying tonight?” David asked.

  I pressed the memory card into the palm of his hand. “It doesn’t matter. Dagor is dead, and I’m alive. If I slept in the sewer, I’d be very content.”

  David smiled at the memory card. “Stay with Mya.”

  I shook my head. “I think you two need some time alone, and I have to feed Gus. I’ll sleep on the chapel couch after it closes.”

  He gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  David plucked Mya up and carried her in his arms down the road to the corner store where he was parked. I heard her giggle as he began jogging to rush her home.

  I smiled.

  I had one stop to make before I could sleep. I traipsed the few blocks back to Sergio’s apartment and rode the elevator to his floor. I kicked open the wedged door. Sergio was still out searching for Dagor, and I didn’t have a phone to call him. I’d wait inside.

  I perched in front of his laptop, contemplating a thought I’d had earlier. If David had the memory card w
ith the information, then he would give it to the mysterious third party. I didn’t know who they were or what their intention was, but I trusted David to give the information to a worthy source.

  Why couldn’t Sergio have it as well? It was information on his brother. He wanted to protect his mother and destroy the horrid family business. If he had information about whether his brother was alive, then he could plan accordingly and not be blindsided or plotted against. He was a good man with a horrible past and a hazy future. Why shouldn’t I help him?

  I typed “Terminator” into the password field and hit enter. Downloading the email file to his drive, I saved it with his password so only he could open it. On a piece of scratch paper, I scribbled a note that only he would understand . . . at least I hoped. Otherwise it would just be embarrassing.

  The goddess has found the key to her Terminator’s heart. Use your drive and ambition to win the family over.

  I closed the computer and laid the note on top. More stress trickled from my pores and freed me from yet another fiasco. Sergio would go home and face a long road ahead. I would miss him, but as a friend. Anything else would mean complications. I’m a simple girl who just wants to play poker.

  I found my way to the parking lot. I was light as air; my troubles were almost gone. I could practically skip home fueled with happiness. And I might have to. I didn’t have any money, and Sergio’s moped was at the chapel . . . and no cell phone either. I groaned but commenced my journey home step by step. It felt good.

  Two hours later, I reached the chapel parking lot. Lucille was still in her spot, looking disheveled. The window was still broken in my apartment, and swaying couples deliriously happy on rum and pheromones were stumbling out of Lenny’s bus and into the chapel.

  “Nadia!” Frankie hollered at me from the door. He’d given up on the chicken costume and was wearing a medieval tunic with green tights. A green hat with a red feather told me Robin Hood was the celebrity of the night. “Where have you been? Did you forget you were working tonight?”