by C. Lymari
“Then I’ll kill everyone in this room.”
And I knew he meant every word. Maybe he wasn’t just a reaper. Maybe, just maybe, he was my angel of death.
My words shocked Ember—hell, they shocked me too. I’d rather die trying to kill every fucker than watch someone else who wasn’t me leave with Ember.
Her words from earlier didn’t hurt. I didn’t spend all this time with her without learning about her. She was proud, and when backed in a corner, she looked for weakness and attacked. She was a ruthless little thing, and it didn’t disgust me as much as I pretended it did. So, no, her words didn’t hurt, but they made my blood boil. It was a feeling I never knew nor had time for, but I was now becoming intimately acquainted with.
Jealousy didn’t belong in my type of work. Being jealous made you weak. It made the object of said jealousy a target. I told myself that Ember already had a target on her back, so whatever I did wouldn’t be much of a difference.
They led us to the chairs starting out at small tables, knocking out the competition one by one. I went to one and Pamela to another. Double our chances at a big winning.
Ember was about to take a seat next to me when I held on to her hand. She looked at it and at me like it burned. As if my touch was causing her pain. My mind immediately went to the night I brought her with me, the first night of withdrawals, and my jaw clenched.
“You’re sitting in my lap, princess.” I spread my legs, guiding her to sit on my left side. “Seats are only for the players.”
She snorted but did as I said. “I’m sure I could stand behind you.”
“I want you right here with me.”
“Of course you do,” she sassed.
What she didn’t know was that the meaning I had behind it was not the one she was thinking about.
Ember had gotten us through the door, but it was up to Pam and me to do the rest, or I’d lose Ember, and I wasn’t ready for that. I moved my knee up and added pressure on Ember’s waist to bring her body down to grind on my thigh as I put my cut on the table. Poker was all about skill, reading people, and maybe just a little bit of luck.
“You play?” I softly asked Ember as our table started to fill out.
When she started to shake her head, I moved my knee, bouncing it a bit.
“I don’t have the patience for these types of games.”
She was not the patient type; of that, I was more than aware.
“I’ll teach you,” I told her.
Pam had worked her charisma voodoo on Zeke and made him think it was his idea that Ember would be part of the grand prize. Not just for him, but everyone. If he didn’t win her, there would be more of a chance that I didn’t either. This provided more of a distraction for us to earn more money and not have him bitter. The fight was next week, and I needed in on it.
This game needed to be over so we could move on to higher-paying games. A grand was nothing out of all the cash I needed to score.
When I moved to put more chips in, I moved my leg again and inwardly smirked at the way Ember trembled in my lap.
“Stop moving,” she hissed.
I put my nose to her hair, inhaling her, and it smelled all wrong. She no longer smelled like mint, but like generic men’s soap, and I didn’t like it.
It wasn’t her smell.
Pressing my mouth to her nape, I smiled. “Did I miss something?”
She stiffened, but didn’t say anything. The game kept going, I stopped moving, and that made Ember relax. It got to the point where her head rested on my chest and one of her arms was wrapped around my waist.
“That looks like a shitty hand,” she whispered as her hand came to the cards I held.
Her being like this with me, it fucked with my game, my plans, and my head, but damn if I wanted her anywhere else. She didn’t notice the effect she had on men—hell, bitches too. She was a diamond in the rough. Sounded stupid to say, but despite everything, she still shone. Jealous stares came from all around us. Ember didn’t notice them, and I ignored them. Looking at us now made winning her much sweeter, but I wasn’t lying. I would kill everyone or die trying before I let someone else touch her.
Sitting up, I moved my knee again, and this time, Ember glared at me.
“Not shitty if we use it right.”
I shifted again, and I felt Ember grind down on my leg.
“Stop.”
“What?”
She attempted to look mad but was fighting a smile.
“Full house.” I set my cards on the table, still playing weak but not enough to get out of the game.
This time when I moved, I felt Ember’s wetness meet my knee.
About damn time.
“Ren,” she hissed again.
I waited to get my new cards before I answered her.
“Princess, I’m trying to hit this game right.”
“Just. Stop.”
“Stop what? Rubbing my leg against your wet pussy? You think I should see if I hit or miss in front of all these people?” With my hand to her waist, I moved her again, and this time she let out a small barely there moan. “Before the night is over, you’ll be begging me to come.”
Her breathing was shallow. “It was a joke.”
“I’m not laughing.”
I didn’t know why I underestimated her. It was like she lived to be challenged. She didn’t run scared or cower. She faced it, even if she knew she wouldn’t win. Ember leaned on the table as she discreetly rolled her hips.
If I was fighting my dick not to stir to like I was, I was losing the game now.
“Here, let’s start kicking ass,” I said as I pulled Ember back and sat her between my legs so she could feel me.
She squirmed, and then she did it again, taunting me.
“The faster I get this money, the sooner I can get you home.”
Ember turned her head, her eyes staring right at me. She didn’t let me see it often, but she was scared right now, and she was vulnerable for me. She was always so strong; this look hit me in the gut.
“Ren…”
I gulped. “Yeah?”
“Don’t lose.”
My hand came to her cheek. “Never.”
Once the word was out, I couldn’t take it back. I didn’t think, I just spoke, and it was the most real I had ever been with her, and with myself, but I knew it was true.
Ember gave me a nod, then fixed herself on my thigh, her head resting on my chest, and watched me play until it came down to a few players.
Pam was done playing. She was holding on to Zeke’s hand and laughing and smiling at all his words as if he were doing a comedy special.
“Last game of the night.” The dealer got working on the deck of cards. He then proceeded to lay out the rules and winnings. “Miss Ember, will you please stand up?”
My face stayed impassive as everyone’s eyes came to Ember. She turned to look at me, and I nodded. It was all the reassurance she needed. Years of not feeling shit came in handy when I wanted to jump and break everyone who salivated at the sight of Ember. She did a twirl, showing the players the goods, then came to sit down.
“Saw you in Bali a few months ago.” One of the guys spoke, his voice directed at Ember. “Called your name, but you never turned.”
Ember went stiff at his question. Like me, she wondered if he’d also noticed that wasn’t her.
“Sorry, I don’t speak to strangers.”
Another guy chuckled. “You just fuck them.”
“I always wanted to see if her pussy was made of diamonds,” someone else added.
Hypocrisy was real. I hated all these men talking down to Ember like this, but somehow it felt okay when I did it, because deep down, I was in awe of her.
“Everything you are thinking about her…” I let my words trail off as I put in my cut for this game, knowing we were one step closer to getting out of here and could afford the cut for the fight. “She’s so much better.”
Some men chuckled; others were already s
tarting to undress her mentally. Ember’s penetrative gaze came toward me, but I couldn’t look at her right now. Not when the words I had just said were so much more than sex.
“Well, I can’t wait to have your bitch riding my dick tonight, Falcon.”
That English accent put every cell in my body on high alert. Everyone knew that the most crucial part of a plan was the unknown. Nothing was ever set in stone, variables were to be expected, but a wildcard fucked you over. My body went stiff, and the only one who noticed was Ember. She soothingly patted my leg.
I was so caught up with Ember, I never saw him play. My head turned slightly to where Pam held on to Zeke and noticed the bitch didn’t look at all surprised. I watched with keen eyes as Gideon took the empty seat that was across from me.
In my business, you tended to know everyone or at least had heard of them, and Gideon was someone I knew. He had a fondness for knives like I did. Where I liked to keep it clean and dry, Gideon made art with blood. He was too wild to be tamed. He wasn’t just lethal because he could kill a person; he was lethal because he wasn’t afraid. He got hired to do some of the most dangerous jobs. He was the person you wanted on your team if you were to do a suicide mission. The fucker never died.
The unhinged look was still in his amber eyes. In a lot of ways, we were similar, both light-skinned with light hair. Where I was a bit more muscular, he was leaner. He wore a suit. You could barely see the tattoos on his neck, but the ones on his hands and knuckles were visible.
In our profession, tattoos made us stand out or traceable if shit ever hit the fan. It was also pride and arrogance that led us to get some, proving to the world we fucked the system and we wouldn’t get caught.
“You’re a little far from home, G.” I gritted my teeth.
The bastard smiled at me. “Missed me, mate?”
Then his eyes went to Ember. Not like everyone else in the room. Not with lust, but with calculation.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m one hell of a ride.”
When he winked at her, I reminded myself to take deep breaths. As the game went on, I held on to Ember a little closer and tighter. She didn’t say anything; she just leaned back into me like she wanted me to shelter her from the world. For the first time all night, I didn’t think I could.
Between me and G, it was hard to tell who would survive.
The more players that folded, the more I regarded Gideon. My mouth made it to Ember’s head, kissing her, but I don’t know if I was reassuring her or myself. People were starting to leave now that the yacht had made it to the harbor. The game players who lost would begin to leave, and then it would take off again until dawn, and everyone looking to fuck and party would remain.
“Ren,” Ember whispered. “I’m scared.”
Her words killed me.
I knew it wasn’t easy for her to admit. She was proud, and we’d been playing this game for a long time, but I think we both were getting tired of it. She felt like mine, like nothing in this life ever had. I’d grown up in the streets, never having anything to call my own. She’d grown up with everything, but never given her whole self to anyone. Yet here we were. She knew who I was and burrowed closer to me, finding beauty in my shadows. I liked her wickedness, thrived in making it come out. She was a jewel to the whole world, and I was the only one who got all of her.
The dealer looked at me, silently asking if I folded. My eyes stayed on Gideon’s; he didn’t fold either. I could taste the anguish in the room. It was evident Gideon and I knew each other. I didn’t have to turn back to look at Zeke and Pam to know both of them were eager to see who would win.
“Straight flush.” I put my card on the table, feeling confident when Gideon leaned back his shoulder and slumped. Ember took a relieved breath.
Gideon jumped up with a smirk on his face, and I felt like I got sucker punched.
“Royal flush, Falcon.” He winked at me. “Must be the British in me.”
Zeke started to hoot, and Pam was nowhere in sight.
“Take your prize,” Zeke said. I was about to get up to get Ember when hands came at me, pushing me down. Zeke’s guard from earlier was holding me down to the chair while another ripped Ember out of my arms.
“Don’t. Touch. Her.” An animalistic growl left my mouth.
“Ren!” Ember screamed, trying to pry herself out of his hold.
Her eyes were coming to me, begging me to save her. I’d never felt more helpless than I did at this moment.
“Mates, not cool.” Gideon strolled without a care to where the guards held Ember. “Didn’t anyone tell you how to treat a lady? Whore, prostitute, virgin, prude, all the same.”
He then pulled his winnings, looking at me and then at Zeke. “Thank you for your hospitality. It was a pleasure playing with you all, but I won’t be needing this. Fucking this cold bastard over is more than enough for me.”
He walked to the guards. “Come on, love. I have plans for you.”
I watched as the guards let her go, and Gideon put a hand to Ember’s mouth, stopping her from talking shit to him.
“I would appreciate it if you gave me a five-minute window getting out of here.”
“My pleasure.” Zeke toasted.
My eyes met Ember’s through the sea of people. They begged me to save her. Before I could call out her name, my head was bashed into the poker table, making everything spin.
Since I was little, I’d learned to master my poker face. I might be in pain and dying inside, but I didn’t want the world to know it. Fear was something I could control. I remembered my father sitting me down to talk to me. I was so excited that day; I thought he’d finally taken an interest in me and my hobbies. He wanted to know what I was like as a person and not just the fact that I was his daughter. I was naïve. My father treated me like another business meeting, starting with how had I been to asking about the weather, then gave me some “this is not easy to say, blah, blah” bullshit.
Someone wanted him dead.
Relief—I remembered feeling relived. As if that would make my father want to keep me close and love me.
So, I learned to live with death as a shadow.
Now, pain was another story. I was practically born with it. I tended to put things in nice little boxes in my mind and store them away and pretend they weren’t happening or hadn’t happened. My time with Silas was in them.
Now all of those emotions I’d neglected and diminished were pouring out of every cell of my body.
The hands that held me were all wrong. They were strong, but not protective. The mouth that kept me from screaming bloody murder was rough and cold, not warm and teasing. My eyes found Ren, and he had a murderous look in his eyes.
“Time for us to go,” Gideon said.
Not like I had a choice. Gideon started to drag me out of the boat, which wasn’t all that hard since I was basically skin and bones.
His tatted hand still covered my mouth. Since he’d gotten to the room, I knew he and Ren didn’t have the best of relationships. I’d been around Ren, and nothing fazed him, but the moment Gideon spoke, he froze.
He was handsome.
Tall, fair, with a youthfulness to his face that no one would dare call babyish by the wicked glint in his gaze. Whiskey eyes that drowned you, and tattoos peeking from his neck and on his hands. There was also something dark and alluring about him. With Ren, it was controlled; you saw it lurking behind his gaze. With Gideon, it was all around him. Pure controlled chaos.
The hand that was on my mouth was the one that had a tattoo so meticulously done. It looked like his bones were over the flesh. The other one had a cracked crown, and on his knuckles, he had tattooed the word mad with an anarchy symbol.
As he dragged me away, I realized two things.
The first thing was that I was afraid. I had nothing to my name, no means to survive, and I’d rather be dead than run back to my castle. Not when Silas was currently king. Now I knew that since the moment Ren had taken me, I wasn’t afr
aid, not really. A part of me didn’t worry about what happened next—he was there, and he would make everything else fade, and he had.
The second was that I was in pain. The thought of never seeing Ren again made me feel ill. All my life, things had been ripped away from me, without a chance to say goodbye, and now it was happening with him.
No one seemed to care as I got dragged away. The people from the game knew I was being “collected,” and everyone down on the lower level was too wrapped up in their own fucked-up states to care.
That was the problem with the world nowadays. No one gave a shit unless it affected them somehow. I was not their problem, so they pretended not to see me.
When we got off the boat, Gideon dragged me into a dark corner. He slammed me to the wall, and with his hand on my mouth, he held me there. With his other hand, he pointed at me.
I wasn’t going to break. It had become my personal mantra over the past year.
“Listen, sweetheart,” he said with that accent of his. “Things can be easy, but if you make this hard, you will regret it.”
When I didn’t answer, he took his hand from my mouth. I stared into his whiskey eyes, not knowing what he wanted from me. I knew lust made men fall to their knees like it was a sport, and there was none of that in his gaze.
“Let me go.”
He smiled, making his face morph from lethal to docile in a second. Something was not right with him.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I need Falcon, and the only way he will cooper—”
I stopped listening to him and moved to try to get away. I would not be a pawn in his game. Someone always wanted something from me, and I was tired of it. My body shook, trying to get away from his hold, when he grabbed me by the throat, slamming back. I was panting, and he didn’t look fazed.
“You…” I managed to get out. “Want…” My throat was on fire; it was like drinking cheap vodka straight from the bottle. “The…reward.”
It was hard to cough as he just held me and cocked his head to the side.
“Money, I have in spades.”
His answer did nothing to make me feel better. If anything, he was more dangerous. Which meant he wasn’t after me—he was after Ren. I wanted to protect him, which was illogical because I couldn’t even defend myself.