Hooked on the Game

by C. M. Owens

  "You didn't tell me Harold Cole was in on it, and I didn't have enough time to research this as thoroughly as I needed to."

  Harold who?

  "Who is Harold Cole?"

  "The guy with Leonard Mars. He's a big time player in the game, but no one can ever find any evidence to prove his guilt. He's been lying low for the past five years. I guess I know why now," he says, making sure to keep his voice low.

  "Harry Talbot is Harold Cole? He's the manager here. Has been for a while."

  "Damn it. I knew this was rushed, but your father would have done it on his own if I hadn't hurried."

  The voices carry through the door, forcing us to stop our whispered conversation.

  "It's all taken care of. We need to hurry up and get this charade of a meeting over with," Harry... or Harold says.

  "We have to keep up appearances. Paul Colton is a vicious man with too much money and influence. If it looks like we're running the business into the ground, he'll start using it as an angle in court. We have to make it look as though Henrietta loves this place as much as Thomas. We've just gotten started."

  Like every cliché fucking movie I've ever seen, I move wrong and a stupid box falls from a perch and claps to the floor. Brody slaps his forehead in exasperation before he starts fumbling with his belt. What the hell is he doing with his belt?

  "Check it out," Harold says, not bothering to whisper.

  I don't know what the hell happens, but suddenly I'm against the back wall, my legs are wrapped around Brody's waist, and his lips are on mine. His pants are opened, my dress has risen up, and he's grinding against me. Oh hell no. I start to push him away and slap the hell out of him, wondering where the crap his sanity has gone, when the door swings open.

  Brody moans as though he's doing more than simply grinding against me, and I realize what's going on. A few chuckles emerge from behind him, and I start playing along. Of course, the kiss gets sloppy and terrible when I tighten my lips and refuse to allow his tongue access. Tongue is really not necessary, in my opinion.

  The door shuts back and the chuckles continue as they start walking away.

  "Let's go help Henrietta with the clients. Apparently half of them already like the place," Leonard jokes from farther away.

  I break away from the wet kiss, and slap Brody. Albeit it's a pathetic girly slap, but I felt some reaction was warranted. I'm not really well versed with violence. My attempt to inflict pain merely provokes a low snicker from him.

  "You could have warned me," I hiss as he puts me back down and starts redoing his pants.

  "Action was all we had time for. Not spoken plans and warnings. Come on. We've got a short window."

  I follow him out of the storage room, still considering slapping him harder. I'd probably earn another chuckle instead of doing any real harm. Jerk.

  When we reach the cellar door, he motions for me to go in.

  "You're not coming?" I ask, turning around.

  "I can't. I can't watch you type in codes on a safe that doesn't belong to you."

  What?

  "I thought this was legal," I gripe, pissed that I left the drills behind now.

  "It's not... legal. But it's not illegal. It's in a very gray area, considering this place doesn't rightfully belong to her but technically it does. Just go down there and take care of what you need to. I don't need to know the details. Then call me when you're coming back up. I'll find a spot to hide until then."

  "It would have been nice if you had informed me of this before we came."

  He rolls his eyes before giving me an incredulous look. "Really? Then you would have packed every tool for breaking in you could fit in the car. No way. I can handle a gray area. I can't handle it being straight up illegal."

  A few choice words enter my mind, but he shoves me forward and shuts the door before those words can spill through my lips. Coward. I really wish I had at least one or two drills. Dad has the best equipment... even though he's out of the game.

  I quickly remove the treacherous heels I'm wearing before I even attempt the stairs, and I hold them in my hand while I creep down, possibly plotting Brody's punishment. If this doesn't work because I don't have the proper equipment, I'm kicking his ass.

  It's possible the drills wouldn't have worked either. It's Annex's after all. He's a tricky bastard, so he might have a booby trap set up that would make the safe even more inaccessible if I had drilled wrong. Considering I haven't done anything like that since I was twelve, I definitely might have messed up. Drilling safes was only ever a pastime thing for my dad and me. It's not like I'm a pro.

  I drop the heels to a table on my way over to the painting with a secret. I smile when I remove it and find my salvation. I know that will is in there. It has to be. Kade might hate me, but at least I'll be able to give him one hell of a parting gift to remember me by.

  Taking a weary breath, I go to type in the first, most obvious code. The annex is designed to accept numbers only, so I count the placement in the alphabet for Kade, along with 1993, but before I can press enter, I hear something I never in my life thought I'd hear so close to my head... the click of a gun.

  "You should have stayed away from here," a familiar voice says as the barrel of the gun presses against the back of my head, making me visibly tremble.

  Where have I heard his voice before? It isn't Harry... or Harold, rather, and it isn't Leonard either. Obviously this manly voice isn't Henrietta. I guess we weren't the only ones with a four-man team.

  "I... um... got lost?" I stutter out like an idiot, slowly raising my hands in the air as a show of surrender.

  A heartless chuckle taints the air when he finds humor in my poor attempt to come up with a lie. I'm actually much better at lying when I'm not in the middle of a con... ironically enough.

  "Sure you did. At least now I know where the old man is keeping the will. Thanks for that," the grizzly voice says, and suddenly it dawns on me who it is.

  "You're the... judge," I gasp, keeping my eyes on the safe as the gun presses harder against the back of my head.

  "And you're the trailer-park trash that should have run back home to mother when Kade's friends bulldozed your house." He sighs out heavily, and then mutters, "I really hate to do this, but you brought it upon yourself."

  I need to keep him talking and figure out a way to disarm him, but I have no clue about how to do that. Unfortunately, my father isn't a fighter, so he never taught me any of those skills. Damn it.

  "You're going to..."

  I can't get the words out. I can't cry, gasp, or even feel anything besides helpless. Surely a judge wouldn't-

  "Kill you?" he laughs, finishing the words I couldn't. "What other choice do I have? I've been waiting twenty-three years to get revenge on Paul Colton. Twenty-three. Long. Years."

  Keep him talking, Raya.

  "Paul Colton? This is Kade Colton's inheritance, not Paul's."

  "Ah," he says, leaning down closer to my ear. "And Paul loves his boy. I've tried and failed many times to ruin Colton Fashion industries. He has that pretty little business packaged too well to be brought down. But this place... he didn't lock it up as well as he should have, and bringing it down is even better than bringing down his own empire. This is his father's - the man he adores. This is his son's - the boy he never knew how to relate to. This is the only thing that connected the three of them. Now I'm taking it."

  Breathe, Raya. Breathe.

  "So all of this is because you have beef with Paul?"

  "Beef," he sniffs. "It's more than that. Paul Colton married the one and only woman in this world I've ever loved, and he didn't deserve her. He still doesn't. She and I had just planned a date when he met her. He didn't give a damn about me or the fact I had been desperately trying for months to get that date. I had to go through her father just to set it up.

  "My family had money, my life was on track, and Paul was the poor boy who should have never crossed paths with her. All he did was use her and her con
tacts to build his father's business into something ridiculously wealthy. Used her," he says, repeating the last two words with a snarl. "Then he trapped her with a kid, just to ensure that she didn't wise up and leave him. That son of a bitch."

  I've heard of women going crazy after being scorned, but I didn't realize men were just as bad. Frigging psycho.

  "So then... you decided to get a group of cons to do this job? To steal this vineyard and exact revenge?" I ask, sounding stupid. But I have to stall, damn it. Where the hell is Brody?

  He chuckles... again, managing to make it sound even eerier this time.

  "Sorry, sweetheart. That's all the divulging I'm willing to do."

  I tense up. "Are you sure?" I ask in an unusually high octave, rushing the words out so fast it almost sounds like one word. "Because it really sounds like you need someone to talk to."

  The second click of a gun strikes me with more fear before I have time to register it as curious. How did he cock it twice?

  "Actually," a saving voice says from behind, making my whole body almost jitter with relief, "I think Judge Higdon will have plenty of people who want to hear his story."

  "Fuck," the judge says as the gun pulls back away from my head. But then he quickly starts trying to dig his way out. "This is Henrietta's property, where I too live, and this girl is trespassing. I was simply defending myself. You have nothing to prove otherwise."

  I hear a rattling, as Brody most likely disarms the creep, and I tremble heavily before turning to face the judge for the first time, happy to see him without a weapon and his hands raised high in the air. He's bald, short, and not at all attractive. Add in the fact he's completely psychotic... I understand perfectly well why Kade's mom chose Paul.

  Something hits me and makes me roll my eyes. "Judge Higdon. Roy Higdon. The Justice of the Peace who signed the marriage certificate for Thomas and Henrietta."

  So the judge moonlights as a JOP. Why didn't I figure that out sooner?

  Brody nods, his smile growing. "You mean forged?" he asks, winking.

  "You have nothing to prove that," the judge repeats, almost growling. "This is her property, and I rent here. I'll have you both arrested for assaulting me in my own home."

  Thank goodness Kade's grandfather didn't marry some troll without telling him.

  "Unless I, as a man of the law, stumble across something in plain sight that could contradict that. Right, Judge?" Brody asks, making the growling man even more furious. "I think you've got an open safe to deal with," Brody says, covering his eyes with one hand and pressing harder against the back of Roy's head with the gun.

  "That safe is not open! That's private property! You can't touch it!" the judge yells in objection. Yeah. Like I'm going to listen.

  I quickly press the enter button to see if the code I pushed in earlier is correct, and my smile of wonder grows when a loud beep emerges, allowing the door to pop open just a hair. First damn try. Hell yes.

  I quickly pull the door all the way open, delighting in what is right on top of the pile. "Oh look," I mutter, feigning innocence. "A document inside a very widely opened safe. And it looks like a will."

  I turn to Brody who takes the will happily. "It seems you've found evidence that this property doesn't belong to the people who can now be considered trespassers. That's enough for me to hold them for now. It won't take me long to gather the rest. Good job, Raya."

  I almost giggle like a silly girl, feeling the claws of adrenaline sinking in, but I refrain, coughing back the ridiculous outburst that was seconds from spilling out, and I offer a respectable smile and nod instead.

  Brody rolls his eyes as he cuffs the judge, and then he looks at me once more. "You'd better not be hooked."

  It was a thrill, a scare, and then a thrill again, but I'm far from hooked. There's only been one thing I've ever been hooked on and thoroughly addicted to, and... well, it was a person. In reality, I suppose I was just hooked on our game, because that's all it would have ever been - a game.

  "Let's go," I mutter somewhat sadly, my euphoric cloud shattered by reality.

  Brody frowns, but he starts shoving the handcuffed judge up the cellar stairs. I hear sirens going crazy outside, distorted voices coming over speakers, and shuffling feet going crazy. I whip my head around to find Brody smiling bigger.

  "I might have called in backup. I suppose I had a little faith in you," he says with a shrug.

  I sigh contently, happy it's all over, until we reach the outside and I see my father being pulled around by men in suits. His hands are cuffed, his curses are flying, and his claims of innocence are being ignored. Suddenly I'm twelve again, and my heart almost strangles me when it lodges in my throat.

  "Unhand me you crazy sons of bitches!" Dad demands.

  "Ray Drivel, you're under arrest for the-"

  "Not him!" Brody yells, laughing almost hysterically. "He's with me. It's the other three," he says, motioning to Harold, Henrietta, and Leonard, who are all face down in the grass with their hands behind their heads. Poor Ember isn't far away, and she's doing the same thing. I really owe her one.

  "And this one," Brody adds, shoving the judge off the porch and making him stumble to the ground with a loud umph.

  They release my father, and my breath returns. He's finally one of the good guys. Well, good enough. I'm sure he'll always be a little bit bad.

  "You okay?" Brody asks, reaching over and touching my shoulder.

  "And it's Ray Capperton!" Dad screams, interrupting any lie I was about to tell Brody about how fine I am.

  Dad rubs his wrists as he scowls at Brody. "You swore I could keep Ray Capperton. It's my favorite alias."

  A snicker actually comes out, and Brody rolls his eyes before pulling out his wallet and handing Dad a license. "Here, Ray Capperton."

  "Finally," Dad grumbles, ripping away the license and shoving it in his wallet.

  I just smile as they embark on a candid conversation. Even when Ember joins us, I remain lost in my own world.

  My phone buzzes, and I get a little sick when I see Kade's name flash across the screen. I'm sure by now he's already heard. His father has more than likely filled him in on what little he knew, and there are police here on their phones. I'm almost positive one of them is talking to Paul, briefing him on what has just transpired.

  My finger hovers over the two options I have, but I wisely select ignore. My heart settles heavily in my chest, exhausted from holding its pieces together.

  I've heard there's a reason for everything that happens in life. I've been searching for a reason for all this pain and madness. Why would I fall so hard for a man I can never have? But here it is. This is why Kade and I met. I was meant to do this. Otherwise he would have possibly lost everything. It's not closure, and it doesn't help alleviate the ache I feel, but it's nice to know that it wasn't for nothing. Maybe that'll be good enough to help me move forward... one day. Today's not that day.

  Chapter 18

  Running and Hiding

  "Raya," Dane Sterling, the club owner, says from behind me.

  "Yes, sir?" I ask, turning around to face the man the women in here drool over.

  He's only twenty-something, but he owns a ton of Sterling Shore. Which makes sense, considering he's related to the Sterlings - the ones who founded the city. Oddly enough, he never seems to pay attention to all the women who adore him. He's a lot like Kade - too busy with the future, I suppose.

  "There are at least fifteen dozen roses for you at the front door. You have to talk to the guy before he fills my club up."

  My heart breaks a little. Since Brody returned the vineyard to him two weeks, Kade has been doing his best to thank me. He's called nonstop, hounded Ember for my address, and tried his best to catch me outside my classes. Sadly, I've managed to start sneaking out windows at school. Ember has refused to hand over my address. But he managed to find out where I work, and he stalks me here more than anywhere else.

  I always hide, the other girls lie and t
ell him I'm not here, and I work around it. I even have the bouncer looking out for his car... or cars, rather. But that doesn't stop him from sending heaps of flowers.

  "Sorry, Mr. Sterling, but I really can't."

  "Dane, Raya. It's Dane. I feel ninety when you call me Mr. Sterling. I'm not that much older than you. And you have to do something. Otherwise, I'm going to have to kick his ass at some point."

  The playfulness in his tone lets me know he's kidding, and I sigh out heavily. He forces a sympathetic smile.

  "I know Kade and his family. Do you want me to go talk to him? This really isn't like him. I've never seen him obsess over anyone."

  I let an exhausted laugh free. He's so far off base.

  "He's not obsessed. He feels bad for judging me, but not because he thinks he was wrong, and not because he misses me. I did him a favor a couple of weeks ago, and it has him confused. It wouldn't have ever worked out. We're way too different. He'll remember why he left me soon enough, and all this will stop."

  Dane's eyes become alight with intrigue. Crap.

  "Why did he leave you? Since you brought it up."

  I glance around the club at all the waitresses preparing for the soon-to-be-here customers, and I motion to them. "Because I'm one of them. Not one of you. As a matter of fact, I'm not even good enough to be one of them."

  His eyes darken and a flash of anger comes over his face. "He left you because of your financial status? You're serious?"

  I huff and quickly shake my head, dreading the mess I've just made. "No. He knew I was poor before we started dating. He was great, but I have baggage. Baggage that could wreck his future plans. It's a long story. I really need to get back to work. My boss will kick my ass if I don't."

  He smiles at my playful ending note, but it's forced. And I retreat quickly when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Kade. Again. He's relentless. It'll have to stop soon.

  The club is beyond packed. The dancers on the stage are getting catcalls, money tossed, and marriage proposals. What am I getting? Crappy tips and a groped ass. I picked the wrong job.