Plush. It was the only way to describe the main room where we stood. White leather couches, but the cushions were so pillowy it would be like sitting on clouds. Real fur rugs were splayed under coffee tables and side tables.
Red accents outfitted the walls. A ruby-painted skull of what maybe was an elk or some other creature with horns adorned the space above the couch. A rifle was mounted on the mantel above the fireplace.
Hunting-chic, if that were a style, would be how I’d describe Neri’s watery lair.
“Perhaps you’d like another drink before we move on?” Neri asked. He must have seen my graceless moves in the helicopter. My arm felt sticky from the spilled champagne.
I spotted the bar ahead, with a lot of brass adding to the white marble. “Um. Sure.”
Neri’s man moved toward the bar, but I stopped him. “No, it’s okay. I’ll do it.”
The man ignored me and kept moving.
“Henry, it’s fine,” Neri said. Then, he turned to me. “We’re not dealing with our usual kind of poppet. This one has a few more preemptive moves than what we’re used to.”
I offered a tentative smile before passing Henry and taking up position behind the bar.
“Afraid I’ll do something to your drink?” Neri asked, his voice containing the velvet of a tempting threat.
“I’m afraid anyone will, given the opportunity,” I responded.
Glasses, glasses, where were the glasses … I bent down to search the lower cupboards. My heartbeat had to be as loud and audacious as the helicopter blades that had just departed. Subtly, I reached into my cleavage.
“I have no such fear. Pour me one as well, my dear.”
I straightened, propping two lowball glasses laser cut from crystal on the bartop. Turning, I found a fourteen-year-old scotch that should do nicely, and despite the circumstances, the glug and slosh of the copper liquid were comforting sounds in this otherwise silent room. Not even the waves dared to splash against the yacht’s hull.
“Wait.”
Henry held up an arm when I made to carry the drinks to Neri, who had sat himself on the couch below the—Elk? Antelope? Impala?—red-painted skeleton horns. I didn’t realize Henry had taken up such close residence near the bar.
“I’ll try it first,” he said.
“Neri has a poison-taster?” I asked before thinking to shut up.
Henry didn’t bother to respond. He grabbed a small straw from the bar, sipped, plugged the mouth hole to prevent any backwash, then discarded the plastic.
A professional poison taster.
Henry held up a finger when I went to take the glass, I guess waiting for any effects. Sighing, I said, “Should I make you one, too?”
Seemingly satisfied, Henry handed the glass back. “I’ll take this one. Make the boss a fresh one.”
I didn’t waste time, bending down to grab another glass and poured. Henry was close, but easily distracted by my ass. When I straightened, I made sure to adjust my breasts, an added bonus. I then went to Neri, who unfurled from his laid-back stance and nodded his thanks.
After tasting, he said, “You chose one of the good ones.”
“I know good scotch when I see it,” I said.
“Excellent. Then you won’t mind drinking some of mine.”
He patted the cushion next to him, and after brief hesitation, I took it. Every synapse in me wanted to scream out, but I met his stare with placid calm.
I smiled, took his glass, and drank deep. I made sure my swallow was audible when I handed it back.
“Good girl,” he said calmly. He turned the glass until he found my lipsticked rim, tilted it so his lips met my stain, and drank. His eyes didn’t linger on anything but me.
“As wonderful as it would be to sit here and pick your brain,” Neri said, lowering his glass and resting against the pillows with no cares, no fear. “You only have so many hours at my disposal.”
If it was a question, I didn’t want to answer it. He discussed this night like it had allotted hours, like a transaction, but his attitude contradicted his words. I’d been involved in a lot of fucked-up moments and avoided plenty, but this was not a time I was here for. The deepest part of me, the part of my mind I’d inherited millions of years ago from my ancestors, told me that there was another plan in place, something sinister.
Neri set down his drink and rose, and I automatically mimicked him.
“Stay here, Henry.”
Henry remained at the bar, arms crossed, but his eyes followed us all the way out of the room and I had to avoid the instinct to look back several times.
We took a very narrow spiral staircase farther into the hull. As we descended, I imagined the water crushing the ship from all sides, and me, willingly entering its depths.
Ten feet below water level, we stopped. My shoes made no sound on the carpeted hallway. While also narrow—and with a lot more ivory and mahogany than upstairs—it still exuded first class, but with no windows. That could be a good thing, considering if I were to look out, the only thing I’d see would be my underwater grave.
We circled the staircase until we were near the bow of the boat, and Neri stopped at a door that was carved in a way that made me think it was the master quarters.
I didn’t want those quarters. I didn’t want to see a bed.
“This is where I leave you,” Neri said.
Against my better judgment, my brows furrowed.
“Enter at your own risk, my dear.” Neri stepped away, the carpet absorbing the sounds of his footsteps as he departed.
I stared after him.
If this night could get any weirder … to think, a few hours ago I’d had visions of my life being perilously close to the end. Instead, I was helicoptered in to some gun tycoon’s luxury cruise ship without any explanation as to why I was standing by myself in the galley.
My next move was obvious: turn the knob. I’d come this far and there was no swimming away from it.
Silently, I did. There was no break in carpet from the hallway to the room, so my footfalls remained undetectable as I moved forward.
The lights were off, and I didn’t dare grope for a switch. It would lead to seconds of distraction that I couldn’t afford. I waited for my vision to adjust and remained very still, waiting for whoever might be in here to make the first move.
I wasn’t disappointed.
“Does this help?”
The voice was a whisper, a growl, a deep, resonant sound in the midst of silence. And I knew, before hearing the flick of the lighter and seeing the flame of the candle grow and flicker beside him, that my heart was about to plummet.
Theo.
7 A Warrior Of Cain
The planes of his face glowed through the flickering flame. It was altogether possible the small light travelled far enough that he could see the glisten of my tears.
“They say it’s unsafe to light candles on a boat,” I said. It came out crackling, like I was recovering from a throat infection.
The man I’d been pining after for twenty-four months stood five feet away, regarding me like he hadn’t broken me open, then salted the wound by popping up right at the moment I’d given up.
The firelight carving of him changed as he shifted. “That’s the first thing you want to say to me?”
Theo might as well have used those words to flip a switch.
I strode forward and slapped him. Before he could recover—or so much as lift a hand to touch the stubble I’d just scraped my palm across—“How dare you? Do you have any idea—” I hitched, my breaths suffocating. “You left me. I haven’t seen you in years because you decided to walk off without any kind of—”
“Scarlet.”
“I was in a hospital—” My pitch rose, my chest heaved, and his profile became as watery as the ocean surrounding us.
His hands fell onto my shoulders. “Scarlet—”
“Your brother shot me, I nearly got my best friend killed, and all I had to hang onto was you. Do you know wha
t that was like? To be feeling your hand one minute and dozing off thinking I was safe, then waking up to an empty chair? An empty hospital room?”
Theo’s grip slid to my elbows, but I yanked out of his hold. “Don’t touch me.”
He held on tighter.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Listen—”
“I loved you!” I heaved the statement out as if it were actual, bloody tissue loosening from my lungs.
Theo pulled me closer, though I still fought. “I know.”
I smacked at his chest, then curled my hands into fists and punched at his torso. “I fell in love with you and you didn’t care. You left. You left.”
“I had to.”
I kept pummeling. My expression was twisted into all kinds of grief, rage, sheer adrenaline. Having him near, a tangible person to hit—like I could reach into his chest and hurt his heart the way he’d sucker-punched mine—was something I’d been hoping to do but never actually believed he’d allow me the pleasure.
“Calm down.”
His voice remained low. Theo didn’t dodge from any of my scattered, hurling fists.
“Don’t you tell me to calm down,” I hissed between swipes. “As far as I’m concerned, I can do whatever the fuck I want because you’ve given me two years to think about it.”
“This is what you pictured?” He ducked against a well-aimed swing at his temple.
“It’s what I dreamed.”
He straightened. Gestured to his chest. “Then come on. Hit me all you want. Hurt me until you feel better.”
I choked, sobbed, the hand I held in the air falling to my side. Theo let me shudder, allowed these moments to contain a background percussion of grief.
“Let me touch you,” he said softly.
I shook my head, crossing my arms. God knew what I’d do if he pulled me against him, if I were able to bury my face in his neck the way I’d ached to do in the middle of the night, under cold sheets that weren’t mine. When the nightmares came.
“You walked away, and it was like you died,” I said. My back was bowed. I was in pieces, Theo’s image so shattered in my mind that it was hard to fathom he stood before me. Whole.
Theo’s alive. Thank God he’s alive.
“You didn’t come back,” I said. “You didn’t give me any sort of sign that you were okay or do anything to make me believe what we had was real or important. You might as well have been buried before my eyes.”
Theo made a move to step closer, but after a low warning from me, stayed where he was. “What I did … it was difficult for me, too.”
“No,” I said, much louder than I intended. “You didn’t have to leave me at the hospital without a goodbye. You didn’t have to cut off all contact with me for years, you didn’t love—”
“I left you in the hospital so you wouldn’t die there, by my brother or any other of my family’s hands. I stopped speaking to you for the same reason, because we’d gotten too close, you were too involved, and despite doing everything in my power to keep you safe, you got shot. Right in front of me. You were nearly killed, Scarlet, and not because of anything you did, but because I became part of your life.”
While listening, I forgot to close my mouth. I had to swallow, bring back my saliva, before saying, “I’ve heard that excuse before. I believe it was when you were stroking my face telling me everything was going to be okay. It was my choice to stay with you.”
“You’re saying that a lot lately, aren’t you? Your choice.”
I froze, my mouth falling open again.
“Another argument of yours I should point to—my leaving you for years. You really think that’s true? I’ve watched you, Scarlet, since the first time you were wheeled out of the hospital and brought to your parents in Westchester. From the time you recovered enough to move back to the city. The moment you took your first seat back with the cards. The second you realized you could make it a prolific—albeit dangerous—career. The deeper you sank, the harder I swam. I saw it all, Scarlet. And if I couldn’t be there, then someone I trusted was.”
“So you had me followed?” I swept my arms out. “Where now we’ve ended up on a luxury yacht with a crazy gun trader and this is the time you decide to reveal yourself?”
“Don’t pretend like you didn’t know what you were doing, basically diving off cliffs—”
“—I didn’t need you lurking behind the scenes!” I shouted. “I wanted you here, beside me! And you’re telling me you were with me the entire time, witnessing me beg for you. Did you have cameras installed in my home, too? My friends followed? What else, Sax?” I asked, using the name his mafia family preferred to call him. “How else did you make me into your pawn? Did I do everything you wanted? Is that why you’re here? Mission accomplished?”
“No cameras. But I saw you break.” Theo continued, nonplussed, “I knew the moment you accepted I wasn’t coming back and can pinpoint the exact time you plunged yourself into this deadly game of spinning knives you keep asking to be a part of.”
“Just because you’re here doesn’t mean everything’s fixed and I’ll stop.”
His eyes closed, Theo’s first sign of exhaustion. “I’m here to try.”
“So, I finally put myself in enough peril to get you to show your face, huh?”
“Yes, your plan succeeded.” His tone wasn’t dry, or flat. It was simply him. Theo. And he was telling me in no uncertain terms that I was being an idiot.
As if I didn’t know that.
“You’ve gone too far, Scarlet.”
“Which means I’m close.”
“Stop looking for him.”
I bared my teeth. “Never.”
“You have no one at your disposal, do you understand that? The police, the FBI, they can’t be around you anymore because you’re too unruly. Your friends, Verily and that boy Noah, they’re not in your life anymore because you walk too dangerous of a line. You’re estranged from your parents for the same reason. You’re doing this alone, Scarlet, and you are creating a situation where I might not be able to get you out of it.”
“Until this moment, I assumed you weren’t anywhere near me. You think I stepped into Neri’s helicopter thinking you were going to be on the other end? No, Sax. I did it because I’m getting closer to Trace.”
“And what did you think Neri Sebastiani could give you?”
“Information,” I spat.
“And then what? What will you do once you’ve confronted Trace?”
“Kill him.”
At last, I startled him enough that he stiffened. “No. That’s not in your blood.”
“He ruined my life!” I screamed. “What little there was left of it, he ruined. I’ve been turned upside down, twisted and deformed, and I lost the one remaining thing that mattered—you—because of him. Then he shot me. He wanted me dead. So it’s only fair I return the favor.”
“What have these years done to you?” he rasped.
“Prepared me. Put fight in me.”
Though it hurt—oh, it wounded—I shoved past Theo toward the door.
“Scarlet, get back here.”
I didn’t bother refusing. The distance I was putting between us was sending enough of a message.
“Scarlet! Where do you think you’re going? On a boat with limited space?”
I tripped, nearly clanging my chin on one of the steps of the spiral staircase. Damn it, Theo had stuck his hand through one of the railing’s gaps on the stairs and hooked my ankle.
“Do you forget where you are? Neri’s my co-conspirator, not yours.” Theo glared at me through the same gap.
I gave him an ice-pick gaze right back. “Neri and his good buddy Henry aren’t a problem right now.”
Theo’s eyes narrowed, suspicion at its finest. He said carefully, “And how do you know that?”
“Easy.” I kicked out, dislodging his grip before lifting my skirt and resuming my steps. “I drugged them.”
The glitter of his eyes caught fire
before being shoved into the darkness as I broke contact and continued up.
“You—what?”
“I feel it needs to be said one more time,” I called out, knowing he followed behind. “I didn’t board this boat thinking you’d be here to conduct an epic rescue. I had my own cards to play, so if you don’t mind, don’t get in the way.” I gave myself enough time to turn back and say, “I’d given up on you, Sax.”
“Don’t do this,” he said.
We’d hit the parlor, the same area where Neri and Henry were still hanging out—or, now splaying out. Neri was sprawled on the white leather couch and Henry had hit the floor behind the bar. Both were completely passed out, and all glasses were drained of scotch.
Theo took in the scene. “You gave them some potent motherfuckers.”
“Slow-acting roofies,” I said, while rolling Neri onto his back. “Newly on the market. Poker isn’t the only underground connection I’ve made.”
“And the FBI didn’t question this?”
I leveled Theo with a look. “I’ll give you enough time to answer your own question.”
“Neri will kill you for this,” Theo said, but didn’t bother trying to stop me. I’d piqued his curiosity, and he was watching me with interest. Or maybe morbid fascination. Where did his rainbow-haired beauty go?
“Hardly. I’m not stealing anything he’ll know about.”
I pulled out my phone and a cord from the purse I’d left on the couch, searched through Neri’s pockets and found his. I plugged the two together and began downloading all the information on Neri’s cell.
“You think you’re going to find Trace through Neri’s contacts?” Theo asked.
“I received credible information that Neri’s been in contact with him, information that’s since been confirmed.”
“And how’s that?”
I glanced up long enough to nail him with a look. “Clearly, he’s been in contact with the Saxons.”
“I only asked him to have me here so I could get to you. He did it as a favor. You have no idea what he was planning on doing with you, do you?”
“Had you not intervened?” I asked dryly.
“This ride is going to the Tijuana, Scarlet. Where you were going to be auctioned.”
WIN THE GAME Page 4