Escape (The Covington Heights Crew Book 1)

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Escape (The Covington Heights Crew Book 1) Page 10

by Deana Birch


  “What does Skip think?”

  I loved that she’d asked, that she wanted some clarity, because quite frankly, I could have used some too. “Skip thinks you should kiss him. You know, to compare.”

  Fiona dropped her head back and faked awe. “Man, Skip, you are a genius.”

  That lovely haze settled between us and I toggled my finger in a come-hither motion. Eyes locked, Fiona moved slowly over and into my lap. She ran her fingers through my hair and said, “I don’t know what any of this means. I just know that I had one of the best days of my life and it deserves to end with me kissing you.”

  I closed my eyes just as she brushed her soft lips against mine. It was completely different in speed and mood from our previous embrace, and she led me down a blurry path of desire and unrushed pleasure. We moved slowly, allowing each other time to appreciate all the aspects of our devotion, savoring the moment.

  The savage in me stayed dormant, my hands remaining on her hips and barely encouraging her gentle grind. She played with the hair at the base of my neck, seducing me further into her heady cloud.

  After three wet pecks that seemed like a cry for more rather than the sad ending that they were, she pressed her forehead into mind and whispered, “You should go before I do something I will regret.”

  I wet my lips, hungry for more of her sweet taste but I nodded. She climbed off me and I couldn’t allow myself to look back as I left. It would have been the death of me and my somehow-under-control manners.

  The last thing I said was, “Lock the door, please.”

  And I could hear the smile in her voice when she replied, “Goodnight, Leo.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Fiona

  Confusing. That was how I was going to describe the day I’d spent with Leo aka Skip—and pretty much my entire mental state since I’d met him. So when I saw him at the bench in his black jeans and skintight tank, I was oddly relieved. Notably missing were Anton and Jackson. Leo seemed to be in charge, sending minions here and there. The only muscles moving were behind his eyes as his gaze followed me and Violet into the park directly opposite him.

  Lisa was at the swings with a little girl younger than Violet, and I offered the free swing to my sister. But she clocked J.J. and ran over to him. They climbed on opposite ends of a rusty seesaw that had a large metal coil in the middle to control the height.

  “Hey.” I gave a friendly smile.

  “Hey, yourself.” Lisa continued pushing the little blonde girl. “You have everybody talking about you, wondering what is so special about you that you get twenty-four-hour bodyguards.” She winked, maybe to lighten the gossip jab, maybe to pretend she didn’t care.

  I couldn’t blame her for fishing, though. Hell, I’d wondered the same thing. I shrugged a shoulder. “I guess I made myself a target. And it’s not around-the-clock. They let me sleep in my own bed.”

  Lisa grinned. “I can’t figure out if that’s good or bad.”

  Tell me about it.

  Violet ran around the play equipment, chasing J.J. My heart went pitter patter at the joy in her giggles. It wasn’t that I’d never taken Violet to the park before, but now that she was a little older and my days weren’t spent sleeping to recover from the nightshift, I saw firsthand how good it was for her to play with other children.

  But then she tripped and fell. She cried out, and it was a fricking shrill sound. I jogged over and picked her up. Her knees were scraped, and I remembered from my own childhood how much a cement burn stung.

  I bounced her over to the stroller, her crocodile tears a moist warmth on my T-shirt. And even though I wasn’t looking in his direction, Leo was on his way. Twice, the day before, someone had mistaken him for her daddy. Twice he had said nothing. And more than a few times he’d made her smile. But where would it lead?

  “What happened?” The accusation in Leo’s tone blended with the resentment building in me and made a perfect cocktail of ‘do whatever it takes to keep him at arm’s length or you will get burned’. Because while all of his attention and doting were instantly gratifying, I wasn’t blinded by his charm. Leo Ricci was not the kind of guy who a girl could build a stable future with. He sold drugs and ran illegal gambling games. I was pretty sure those things didn’t come with a retirement plan.

  “She’s a kid. She fell. Shit happens.” I tucked her into her seat in the stroller and blew on her knees. Violet popped her thumb into her mouth and sucked as she watched me.

  With a first-aid kit in hand, Lisa walked over and handed me a small bottle with a pump. “Non-sting disinfectant. I never leave home without it.”

  “Thanks.” I took the little bottle and squirted. Foam bubbles pooled on Violet’s little knees and I blew again. A long drip of the liquid streaked down her leg but she didn’t cry. I buckled her in and stood.

  “There’s a dice game tonight. You should go nap.” Leo frowned at me, and I didn’t think I was imagining that he was being just a wee bit too judgmental about my kid sister skinning her knees.

  Only adding to my annoyance was the fact that there hadn’t been a sign of my mom since she’d left to pick up her check, which meant she’d gotten the money and used some of it to get wasted—which also meant that I needed to work that game.

  I handed the bottle back to Lisa and asked, “How much would it cost for you to watch Violet for the night?”

  She shrugged quickly. “If you’re working for Anton, nothing. It’s part of my salary.” Lisa smiled and stored the disinfectant in her red pouch. “What time?”

  “I’ll bring her down after dinner, to make sure she’s okay.”

  Lisa gave me the thumbs-up, shot a quick and cautious glance at Leo and went back to the little blonde girl.

  I flipped off the brake of the stroller with my right foot and pivoted away from Leo.

  “Be ready by nine.”

  “Anything else?” My ability to not be snarky had disappeared. I was pissed off that Violet got hurt, pissed off that my mom had a disease that put her addiction before her kids, pissed off that everything always fell on me and pissed off that he would be here today and gone tomorrow—not just for Violet but for me too. There was no point in taking anything further with him.

  Leo’s gaze tightened in on me, assessing my mood.

  I’d made a mistake, kissing him for the second time. It had been his kindness and the day out of the confines of Covington. But we weren’t those people, starting with the deceitful man next to me. The glimmer of hope that had flickered the day before had been a mirage. I needed to extinguish it from my imagination, put my eyes back on the prize and do what I needed to do to get out of this hell hole. No more momentary lapses in reasoning.

  “See you later.” I could tell by the wrinkles around his eyes that he still couldn’t get a read on me, but that was the least of my worries. It had to be.

  During dinner I explained to Violet that she was having a sleepover at Lisa’s house. I’d thought she might be nervous, but as soon as I told her that J.J. would be there, her eyes lit up.

  Dropping her off was hard—for me. There was the guilt of leaving her with a woman I didn’t know much about, the sting that Violet had no trouble saying goodbye to me and the real possibility that my mother would come home to an empty apartment and go ballistic. She had a way of caring at all the wrong moments.

  I could have left her a note, could have stated the truth. But then she would know I had a job—and, therefore, money. A lie would have been just as easy, but the darker part of me—the side that lurked in the shadows—wanted her to worry. It was childish and petty, but I was tired of playing by the rules. Thus far it had gotten me exactly nowhere.

  All that simmered below my skin in a thick soup of resentment. I wasn’t normally one to throw myself a pity party, but I was still human. So my resting bitch face stayed intact as Rafa drove us to the Lower East Side. He and Leo had talked about fighting the entire ride and I vaguely wondered what made Shithead such an expert.

 
; The dice setup was similar to the poker game—a bar on one side and a table in the center of a cool, dimly lit room. But this time the only chair was a bar stool by the door, where Rafa and his pretty eyes took up residence. I opened and closed the metal doors of the mini-fridges to check my stock and Leo brushed against me before pulling out the gambling chips.

  I hated that fucking spark, the wild energy that hung in the air between us. It was distracting, useless.

  “You’re still cranky,” he said without looking at me. If he brought up some sort of ‘Aunt Flow coming for a visit’ reference, he would die. I would strangle his thick neck. I thought about it for a second and realized I did have PMS, which brought more irritation.

  “You’re still an ass.” I slammed shut the door of the last fridge and crossed my arms. God help me, I was pouting. Fucking hormones.

  Leo set four stacks of chips on the bar and stalked over to me, his eyes just slits. In my ear and with a warm breath that gave me a lust-filled shiver, he said, “I don’t know what this little tantrum is about, but it’s hot as fuck. So unless you plan on following up on what you’re doing to me, I suggest you paste a smile on your pissed-off face and stop.”

  No, no, no. He couldn’t just waltz over to me, say something sexy and get his way. And making him all hot and bothered? Bonus. Because I wasn’t going to do anything about it, no matter how hard my body was screaming to jump him. Nope.

  I tilted my head, meeting his challenge. “In that case, fuck off.”

  Leo laughed and stepped back, giving me the freedom to continue my pissy huff, which he watched with a bemused smile. But soon enough the patrons filtered in, and while the backdrop was similar to the card game, the energy of the men playing dice was completely different.

  Mostly due to a man they referred to as ‘The Scot’. He was more giant than a man, and when he ordered his not one, but two beers, his accent brought out a genuine smile.

  “Yer cute.” He tipped the beer in my direction then drank it down in one go. He set the empty bottle on the bar. “Whatcha doon in this shithole?”

  “Just trying to make a buck like everybody else.” I tossed the bottle in the trash and it clanked against the other ones below it.

  “All right, everybody’s here. Let’s get rollin’,” Rafa called from the table and Leo perched on the stool next to the door.

  I’d never witnessed a dice game before, so I hadn’t expected the shouting that went along with it. And it was confusing as fuck. The number seven was both lucky and unlucky, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why. There were tons of side bets and Rafa managed to know all of them while keeping a relentless pace to the game.

  When the money was exchanged, the Scot or someone would ask for drinks, but mostly I was a spectator to a baffling game. The one thing that seemed to be pretty clear was that the Asians at the end of the table were making bank.

  After a particularly large bet that he lost, the giant Scot spouted out a string of curses and called for two more beers. I took them over and he grabbed my arm as I was about to walk away with his previous two.

  “You ever play Craps?” He rolled the R and studied me.

  “Nope.” I looked at his hand on my forearm, over to Leo, and back to him.

  His gray-blue eyes lit up and he turned back to the table, bending his knees and exaggerating the movement. “Oh, gentlemen, we have a virgin.”

  My mouth went dry and my heart pounded.

  Leo stepped between me and the Scot, freeing his grasp. “Sorry, Reed. You know the rules. You can only roll if you have money in the game.”

  Reed frowned. “Ah, come on. They’ve taken almost everything. I’ll give her the rest of what I have, and if she wins, I’ll give her a cut.”

  “Who cares if she rolls?” Rafa asked the group.

  The Asian men chattered between themselves then gave the thumbs up. They were probably banking on my inexperience and obvious ignorance.

  I searched Leo’s eyes. “I have no idea what to do. I’m going to lose all his money.”

  “He was going to lose it anyway.” Rafa grabbed my hips and shoved me toward the table.

  Reed clapped his hands and hollered his delight. He nudged next to me and handed me a stack of chips. “Do you know anything about Craps?”

  “No. This is a terrible idea.”

  Reed furrowed his brow as if I’d insulted him. “It’s a fuckin’ fantastic idea. Trust me.”

  I checked over my shoulder at Leo, who silently encouraged me. Are they all out of their minds?

  “So,” Reed continued, “just take it one roll at a time. First things first… Roll a seven or an eleven and we win.”

  “Come on, Fiona.” Rafa set a stack of dice in front of me. “Choose two and roll. You’re holding up the game.”

  With my pulse racing, I selected the top and the bottom one. I scanned the table, unsure of my next move.

  “You need to bet on yourself.” Rafa took back the remaining dice and stored them next to a little mirror in the side of the table.

  “Bet all of it.” Reed whispered in my ear and his warm breath that was laced with assurance made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. A chill swept over me. I was going to lose his money in one go.

  A seven or an eleven. That was all I needed. The seven had been so confusing to me that I focused on the eleven. A six on one and a five on the other. Easy…not.

  I brought the dice up to my mouth and my stuttered exhale warmed my hand. I was sure I’d seen something like that in a movie. I closed my eyes and pictured the six and the five again.

  With a shaking hand, I pushed the stack away from me and Rafa snatched it up then separated it into three piles. “Two-fifty. Two-fifty and three hundred.”

  The men in the shiny suits at the end of the table each matched a pile and Rafa nodded to me once he’d counted it. “Now you roll.”

  The younger guys on the opposite side of the table placed their own bet between themselves and I waited for a final nod from Rafa.

  Six and five. A five and a six.

  The chatter from around the table revved up and I blocked it from getting any further than the entry to my ears. I gave one last fleeting look to Reed, who was shouting about my virginity. Time slowed down and the chants morphed into slurs, the clapping and jumping into lethargic blurry lines of movement.

  My own head was swimming in a murky soup. I forced one clear thought to rise to the surface.

  Six and five. A five and a six.

  I closed my eyes.

  Six and five. A five and a six.

  At the same time, I opened them back up, and with a light snap of my wrist, I threw the dice to the other side of the table. They tumbled on their sides and corners—one even took a little hop before it landed, resting perfectly aligned with its partner. A five on one and a six on the other.

  “Yo! Eleven!” Rafa hollered out.

  Reed screamed like a sheep in heat and one of the younger dudes pumped his fist in the air.

  Adrenaline pulsed through my veins and the slow-motion moment switched gears to high speed. Over the course of the following half-hour, I won every last bit of money on the table. As the other players filed out and Rafa counted out their cut of Reed’s winnings, I went behind the bar and pulled out three beers. I set two on the counter for Reed and opened the third for me. Reed took his cash and stashed it in various pockets. I twisted off the caps of his beers, we clanked the necks and he slammed his while I took a sip. The cool and bitter liquid washed through me, taking the stress of the night with it.

  I leaned my ass against the counter and crossed my ankles. Just as I was settling into a relaxing lull, Rafa shouted at me for a drink. Leo and Reed chatted about the dates of future games and I walked the beer over to Rafa.

  “Nothing like popping your cherry, huh?” He smirked and took a swig.

  “I suppose not.” I left him alone at the table went back to the bar.

  “All right.” Reed’s glorious accen
t was still as charming as the minute he’d opened his mouth. “I’ll see you fellas next week.” He finished his second beer and pushed off the bar. Leo halted him with a hand in the air.

  “I think you’re forgetting her cut, good man.”

  After a little chuckle, Reed said, “Right. My mistake, lads.” Then to me, “Thanks for the roll.” He took a wad out of his front pocket, counted out five hundred and left it on the bar. Leo stood down, and after Reed was out, he relocked the door.

  Leo checked his phone then punched out a text with his thumbs. Once he’d finished, he jutted his chin to Rafa. “You good?”

  “Yeah. Let’s roll.”

  Maybe it was me not being pissed off anymore, but something in Leo had changed. He stared out of the passenger window, far, far away. It was a quiet side of him that was somehow darker than his normal brutish ways. I didn’t like it.

  But when we got back to Covington and were walking toward the courtyard, I might have understood it.

  “You’ve been summoned,” Leo said then worked his jaw.

  I swallowed hard and followed him to his place. Shit. It wasn’t like I’d thought Anton would forget about my stupid so-called debt, but I’d kinda hoped he would. Once inside, Leo nodded his hello to Anton, who sat at the island with a beer and a stack of money, his steel eyes assessing my every inch.

  “See you tomorrow.” Leo disappeared down his hall, leaving me in heavy silence.

  My bladder pushed against my jeans that had been made tighter by bloating and cramps and reminded me that I hadn’t taken a break the whole night. “Can I use your bathroom?”

  “Down the hall and through my room.” Anton pointed with his beer.

  I walked down the dark hallway. At the end, a massive, unmade bed sat in the middle of a sparsely decorated room. There was a long wooden dresser, a walk-in closet and, at the opposite end, another door. I flicked the switch and my heart stopped. The most beautiful sunken bathtub lined an entire wall. Opposite it were double sinks and an open shower. The actual toilet was its own small room and the floors were covered in light gray square tiles.

 

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