#Player

by Cambria Hebert

  His breathing was steady; his heartbeat was sure and strong beneath my ear. I pushed in a little closer against him and shut my eyes so sleep could claim me once more before reality intruded on the drowsy comfort I enjoyed.

  But it wasn’t my thoughts that intruded.

  It was a sound.

  I listened intently, trying to figure out where it was coming from and what exactly it was. It was sort of like a scuffle or a muffled scrape.

  But then it stopped.

  I lay there listening intently for a few minutes, and when no other sound came, I told myself I was being silly. It was likely the person in the room beside us entering or exiting their room.

  Hotels were bound to have noises, and none of them would sound familiar to me.

  It made perfect, logical sense.

  So why did I suddenly feel so creepy?

  It was like the day I’d been in the dorm bathroom and thought I was alone… but I hadn’t been.

  The thought was just too disturbing, and I opened my eyes.

  The darkness was intruded upon by a sliver of soft light. I lifted my head very slightly to look out into the sitting room. A beam of golden light from the dim hallway stretched across the carpeting. It was there and gone so fast I wondered if I was seeing things.

  By the way adrenaline surged through my bloodstream and my heart rate galloped against my ribs, I knew that it wasn’t my imagination. It was real.

  Someone was in this room.

  Someone who hadn’t come to bring us tea and cookies.

  I swallowed and slid my hand around Romeo’s waist and tried to signal him awake by tapping against his side. I was afraid to call out his name and alert whoever was in here that I wasn’t asleep.

  But time wasn’t on my side, and I lay there desperately trying to think up some amazing plan to outsmart this person.

  I patted Romeo again, harder and more fiercely than before.

  I felt him jerk awake, and I squeezed his side.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, and I cringed.

  So much for being quiet. And so much for an amazingly smart plan.

  There was a much less muffled noise—okay, it was downright loud—and Romeo understood immediately why I woke him.

  “What the—” He began, the sleepy quality to his voice evaporating instantly.

  But he didn’t finish his sentence.

  At the same moment, two men rushed into the room. A hand wrapped around my bare ankle, the one I’d thrown over the top of the comforter in my sleep.

  (Side note: if this wasn’t a lesson as to why you should always sleep with the covers up to your ears, then I don’t know what was.)

  Everything happened at once.

  I shrieked, and Romeo lurched up.

  A light flicked on.

  I was yanked out of Romeo’s arms, out of the comfort of the bed, and was roughly dragged down the mattress until there was no bed left at all.

  At the last second, I grappled for the blankets, the edge of the mattress, anything that would keep me from being pulled any farther.

  But it was useless. My hands came up empty, and with one last great tug, I was pulled completely off the bed and plummeted toward the floor.

  It wasn’t a far fall.

  But that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt.

  I landed like the most ungraceful swan that ever lived. Like someone who just performed the greatest belly flop in the history of belly flops.

  I would have hit my face if I hadn’t reflexively brought up my arms to protect it. I was glad I wasn’t wearing my glasses, because those might have cut my face with such a hit.

  “Rimmel!” Romeo roared as I flipped onto my back and kicked at the man who was still gripping my ankle.

  My foot finally connected with something soft, and the man cursed and loosened his grip enough that I could pull away.

  Romeo seemed to materialize from above me, literally launching himself off the bed like a battering ram. He hit the man who pulled me off the bed, and the pair collided, both going down in a heap.

  Romeo pulled back his fist to pummel the man he landed on and got in a few solid hits before the second man pulled him off his partner.

  But Romeo didn’t stay down.

  He jumped to his feet and went at the second man as the one who grabbed me cradled his injured face.

  Romeo was trained like an athlete—he was an athlete. And his football skills kicked in. He went in low and caught the man around the hips, and the force behind his hit sent the two men out into the sitting room, out of sight.

  Panic like no other clawed at me when Romeo moved out of the room. I wasn’t scared for me. I was scared for him. I had no idea who these men were or what they wanted.

  They could have a gun.

  He could be shot.

  The thought sent me scrambling up off the floor as I ignored the pain that radiated through my body. I didn’t have time for pain.

  I ran forward, but the man on the floor caught me around the knees. I started swinging my fists downward to do some damage of my own, but it didn’t seem to work.

  Before any damage could be done at all (except to my pride), he stood and dragged my body back against his.

  I felt the cold, sharp edge of a blade press against my throat, and my struggling stopped.

  “I oughtta fricken slice you right now,” he growled in my ear.

  Out in the other room, the sounds of furniture overturning and the breaking of glass were more alarming than the knife at my throat.

  “Go ahead,” I challenged and lifted my chin for even more access to my throat. Inside, I was screaming at myself for being so crazy. But outwardly, someone else was taking over. Someone who was going to call this guy’s bluff. “Do it. Something tells me if you do, you won’t get whatever you came here for.”

  He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t let go. He towed me out into the other room, keeping the knife against my flesh.

  The room was a mess from what I could see. The lamp in the corner had fallen over and busted. The only light we had was from the bedroom. The cushions on the couch were all over the room, the coffee table was on its side, and Romeo was on top of the intruder and in motion to deliver another punch.

  “Let him up or I’m gonna make this one here a shish kebob,” the man holding me called out.

  I felt ridiculous and weak in that moment. Here Romeo was kicking ass, and I was standing there with a knife to my throat. If I hadn’t been so easy to get ahold of, Romeo probably could have knocked out one guy and came for the other.

  I was nothing but a liability. I prayed to God it didn’t get us killed.

  Romeo dropped his arm and looked over his shoulder. When he saw the position I was in, his eyes narrowed. “Get your hands off her.”

  “Up,” the man holding me ordered.

  The man beneath Romeo started struggling to get up, and a muscle clenched in his jaw. Even though I saw the desire to punch and fight, Romeo stood up, angling his body so he had his back to no one.

  The man on the floor got up. He had a busted lip and a cut on his cheek. As soon as he stood, he plowed his fist into Romeo’s midsection.

  I screamed, and Romeo bent a little from the force of the hit.

  Screw the knife. I started fighting, kicking my legs and pinching the man who held me with my hands.

  “Hold still, bitch.”

  “Fuck you!” I yelled and struggled harder.

  The knife pierced my skin, and I yelped. The warm feeling of blood oozing down my neck alarmed me.

  “Oh fuck no!” Romeo roared and lunged at us. The man who punched him grabbed ahold of him and towed him back.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you.” The distinct sound of a gun being drawn changed the dynamic of the entire room. “This gun will make that knife wound look like a scratch,” he intoned.

  “You have a gun?” Romeo spat. “Why the fuck didn’t you pull it out when I was pounding you?”

  “Because we n
eed you alive,” he replied. “For now. But her? Her life isn’t as important at the moment.”

  So now I had a gun and a knife pointed at me.

  Oh, fun times.

  Romeo held up his hands in surrender. His face was dark with anger, but I also saw defeat. He wouldn’t do anything that would put me in danger. Including saving himself.

  “Stop pointing that at her,” he said roughly.

  The man with the gun glanced at him with a smirk. “You giving me orders?”

  “I’m assuming if you don’t want me dead, that means you want something from me. I can tell you right the fuck now you won’t get shit, not even a conversation, while you’re pointing a gun at my girl.”

  The gunman considered that and then swung the barrel and pointed it at Romeo.

  “No!” I cried. “Point it back over here.”

  The man laughed. “Ah, young love. So willing to die for the other.”

  “Keep it here,” Romeo said, his voice level. He patted his chest. “Right here.”

  When the gun didn’t move away from him, he glanced over. “Drop the knife.”

  “No,” the man holding me said.

  “Drop. It.” Romeo growled.

  He laughed.

  The man with the gun sighed. “Just put it away. I think we have their attention.”

  “Whatever you say,” he replied, and the knife against my throat was pulled away.

  I jerked away from him. He didn’t grab me again, but he did step up so close that I could feel his body against mine.

  I shuddered because it was so disgusting.

  “What do you want?” Romeo asked and inched closer to me.

  The gunman noticed and demanded he stop.

  “So much for being a reporter,” Romeo said.

  I gasped. I hadn’t realized it at first with everything going on and the fact I wasn’t wearing my glasses, but the man with the gun was the same man I saw at the shelter fundraiser and the same man Romeo said was posing as a reporter.

  “I report things,” he defended. “I’ve been reporting what you’ve been up to for weeks.”

  “To who?” Romeo asked.

  He shrugged. “My boss.”

  “Who’s your boss?”

  “That’s on a need-to-know basis. And you don’t need to know,” the gunman said and number two laughed like it was a funny joke.

  He was a clump nugget.

  “Then tell me what I do need to know,” Romeo said.

  “My boss is owed some money, money that her screw-up of an old man hasn’t paid.”

  I knew it was going to be this. We knew. Still, it sucked to hear. I was being attacked just like my mother had been all those years ago.

  “What the fuck does that have to do with her? Go get it from him,” Romeo said, not a hint of regret in his tone for offering up my father.

  “We could do that,” he allowed. “But all that would end in is him being killed and my boss being out of the money he’s due.”

  “Maybe your boss shouldn’t loan people money who ain’t gonna pay it back.”

  “Oh, he’s gonna pay, just like they always do. There’s always that one soft spot in someone’s life to make anyone pay.”

  And that soft spot was me.

  I laughed. “I don’t really think my dad cares much about me right now. Or anything for that matter.”

  “No.” The man agreed. “But he does.” He grinned at Romeo.

  “I don’t have any money,” Romeo lied.

  Well, actually, I don’t know if it was a lie. I had no idea how much money Romeo had. I knew he hadn’t been paid yet for his NFL contract, but I never asked him how much he had personally. I didn’t care.

  Both men laughed. “You really think we would come in here like this if we didn’t know you had money?”

  “Big deal.” Romeo shrugged. “So you snooped around in my business. You know I’m due a big payday for my NFL contract. Then you should also know I don’t have that money yet.”

  “You can get it,” the guy said.

  Clearly, he had no clue how business and contracts worked. Or maybe he did. Maybe that’s why he had to use threats to get what he wanted.

  Romeo laughed. “I’m a rookie. I don’t have access.”

  “We saw you sitting with Ron Gamble the other night. We know you’re his new golden boy. Get it.”

  Romeo shook his head.

  The logic and rational thought in this room was fleeting. These men clearly were idiots.

  But that made them dangerous. Idiots didn’t care how they got what they wanted so long as they got it.

  “Five hundred grand. We want it tomorrow night. We’ll be in contact with a meeting place. Be there with the cash or we’re gonna kill her.”

  Rage burst through me, and without thinking, I lifted my foot and slammed it down the shin of the man nearby and stomped on his foot. He howled in pain and bent forward.

  I elbowed him in the face.

  Romeo leapt over to me, grabbing my arm and pushing me behind his body. His body was so tense that I was afraid he would snap at any second.

  “Shit,” the gunman swore. “She’s a damn girl. You’re an embarrassment.”

  The man I elbowed growled and came at me. Romeo blocked him. With his fist.

  “Don’t bother calling the police,” fake reporter with the gun said once his friend fell back on his butt. “We’ll know, the deal will be off, and you’ll be looking over your shoulder, wondering how we’re going to kill you.”

  “You can’t kill us!” I spat. “The cops will know it was you!”

  “There’s a lot of ways to kill someone. Car accident. Accidental overdose. Undetected carbon monoxide poisoning. A lot of those accidents are hard to prove as murder.”

  He finally lowered the gun and strolled closer on his way to the door. Thug number one was right behind him.

  He stopped close to Romeo, who tensed.

  “Imagine walking into a room and wondering if the air was filled with an odorless gas that could possibly kill you. Did you change the batteries on your smoke detector? Were they good batteries or bad? And what about the beer you just ordered at the bar? Did you look away for just a second? Is there something in there that could possibly kill you? Just living would be a torment. When death finally comes, it will be a relief.”

  I was shaking. The way he talked, so nonchalant about our deaths, made my skin crawl. It was like he just didn’t care about human life.

  Romeo stared him right in his eyes. “If I don’t pay and you kill us, your boss will still be out the money he seems to desperately want.”

  The gunman smiled. “We don’t like to kill people. We’re peace-loving folk. It’s why we’re giving you this nice chance to make things right. But we only offer one chance. After that, the loss is just considered temporary. But your death?” he said. “And hers? Well, that will be forever.”

  The two men let themselves out of our room, quietly closing the door behind them.

  Both of us stood there silently digesting the shit that just went down.

  In all honesty, when all that stuff with Zach was going on, I never really thought he would kill anyone. I never thought Romeo or I could die.

  But these men… they were in a whole other class.

  They weren’t unbalanced and unstable like Zach.

  They were calm and in control.

  And right now, they held our lives in the palms of their hands.

  Chapter Forty

  Romeo

  I was a player.

  Someone was trying to play me.

  Good thing I was good at the game.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Rimmel

  Romeo recovered faster than I did.

  It was like this air of certainty, of knowing, came over him and that was that.

  He turned to me and held out his hand. I gave him mine, and he gently towed me into the bathroom and flicked on the light.

  He didn’t say anything when he l
ifted me and sat me on the countertop. He curved a finger beneath my chin and tilted my head back to give him a better view of my neck.

  I wasn’t sure if it was still bleeding. I couldn’t tell. It was sticky, wet, and stung.

  “Doesn’t look too deep,” he said and went about running water over a clean white cloth from the linen shelf nearby. Leaving the water running, he wiped away the blood, rinsed, and then repeated the action several times.

  “I’m really tired of seeing marks on you, Smalls,” he murmured as he worked. “This shit is enough to drive any sane man to murder.”

  I dropped my chin to glare. “You are nothing like those men. You are nothing like Zach or even my father. You’re better than that, Roman Anderson. I don’t ever want to hear those words out of your mouth again.”

  A half smile tipped the corner of his lip. “Is that an order?”

  “Oh yes,” I assured him. “And I’m serious.” I wished I had a better one-liner to quip back, but I didn’t. His words scared me. I would never forgive myself if he did something he could never take back because he thought it was what he needed to do to protect me.

  He pushed up my chin and continued dabbing lightly. “Well then, I guess I better get a Band-Aid on this cut so I’m reminded of how much I hate it.”

  “Is it bad?” I asked.

  “Nah. But it’s deeper than I thought. That guy is a—”

  I pushed my fingers against his lips so he couldn’t finish the sentence. “He’s gone.”

  Romeo nipped at my fingers playfully, and I jerked them back. He tossed the cloth into the sink and picked up my hand, pressing a kiss to the very fingers he’d just nipped at.

  When he was done, a serious note crept into his tone. “They’ll be back.”

  “We should call the police.”

  “I’m not calling the cops.”

  “What!” I shrieked. I swore when this was all over, I was going to need blood pressure medicine.

  “You heard ‘em. Don’t call the cops.”

  “So you’re going to do what a bunch of criminals tells you to do!”

  “I’m not taking chances with you.” He caressed my cheek.