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Poker Face (The Masks Series Book 4)
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Poker Face
The Masks Series
Book 4
Melissa Pearl
Poker Face copyright © 2015 by Melissa Pearl
Cover design copyright © 2015 by Kate Strawbridge
Dwell Design & Press.
Interior book design by
Bob Houston eBook Formatting
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-63099-048-0
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
Poker Face, Book IV,
The Mask Series by Melissa Pearl
Published by Evatopia Press
http://www.evatopia.com
8447 Wilshire Blvd., Ste. 401, Beverly Hills, CA 90211
a division of Evatopia, Inc.
See other titles by Melissa Pearl at http://www.melissapearlauthor.com
For anyone trapped in the bonds of slavery.
My prayer is that one day you will be set free.
Chapter 1
Caitlyn
Darkness.
That was how it started.
And that was how it would stay.
There was no color. No light. Only desperate fear and hopelessness.
I was in a black tunnel and I could see no opening, no way out...no salvation.
My breaths were shallow and quick. I’d come-to a short while ago, my head groggy and filled with an aching fuzziness that pressed against my skull and made me feel like it was about to crack open.
It took me a few minutes to figure out where I was at first. I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten into the trunk of the car. Vague images of screaming and fear pulsed through me, a vice-like grip around my waist, a knife at my throat.
I’d flinched, reaching for the wound on my neck...and then I’d remembered. As my fingers ran over the dried blood on my skin, I’d relived my nightmare.
Miguel...pulling me into the secret doorway before Agent Rhodes could find me. Dragging me down a stairwell and throwing me into his car.
Shadow Man...clamping a cloth over my nose and mouth. It made me disappear for a while.
After that - darkness. Even right then, as I lay in the confined space of a different car, it was the only thought in my brain.
Darkness.
Endless, hopeless darkness.
I was too afraid to move or make a sound. I couldn’t even cry. Instead, I focused on the sound of the tires on the road and wondered where they could be taking me.
I had no idea how long I’d been out; we could have been traveling all night or only an hour. My legs were cramping, my knees screaming to move. It was a sure sign of distance. I wiggled my toes and stretched as far as I could, my bare feet pressing against the coarse lining of the trunk. They felt tender, as did most of my body.
My bottom lip was cracked and swollen. I ran my finger over it and winced, cringing further when I reached for the tender patch on my cheekbone.
Mendez...hitting me. Calling me a whore and swearing to punish me.
Had he known his head of security, Miguel Vera, was going to steal me?
Diego Mendez would no doubt be in the hands of the FBI now. They’d found the kidnapped girls who were locked in his basement; I’d heard Rhodes say it while he searched the room for me. If only he’d known I was behind the wall, wishing I could yell out to him but knowing one sound would mean death.
Kaplan would have arrested Mendez’s sadistic ass and locked him up...hopefully for life. Any man who steals and sells young girls is not worthy of freedom.
Would he say anything? Would Kaplan question him until he broke or was Miguel working alone, snatching me away for my eyesight...the gift I had for seeing the truth?
The car slowed and took a turn. My body pitched back as the car descended a steep slope and came to a stop. My heart rate accelerated, pulsing through my body in quick, static waves. Breaths punched out of my nostrils and my belly quivered as I waited, shuffling back until my butt hit the interior wall.
I heard a click and then the trunk popped open.
Light poured into the back. It was dim, but still enough to make me squint.
“Awake I see. Perfect timing.” Shadow Man smirked, snatching my wrist and dragging me closer. In one swift move, he lifted me out of the trunk and placed me on my feet. My limbs were cooked spaghetti, burning with pins and needles as the blood rushed through my dormant legs. The man held me tightly, assessing me with his pale, brown eyes. His sharp, pointy face was handsome, his buff body something girls would swoon over, but I didn’t see that.
All I saw was his mask-less face, his gloating smirk, his sadistic glee.
My legs buckled and he caught me under the arm before I fell. The gold, sequined dress Miguel had forced me to wear to his high-class poker game was ripped and tatty. The split was so high my entire side was exposed.
Shadow Man’s gaze traveled over my skin, his smirk blooming to a lust-filled smile.
I scrambled for the fabric, clutching it together and covering up as best I could. I was wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of panties beneath this dress.
Vulnerable didn’t even cut it. I was beyond that now.
My body wouldn’t stop shaking.
He hauled me towards an elevator in the corner of the parking lot, lifting me up the concrete steps and placing me down beside the intricate golden doors. After pressing the UP button, he looked at me and licked the corner of his mouth. He was like a lion eyeing up his lunch.
I threw his mask up, preferring his bland disregard. To any normal person he looked like a bored security guard, but I knew better, because I could see what others couldn’t.
The mask wouldn’t stay. I could feel fate mocking me, its callous laughter ringing in my ears.
I’d caught a glimpse of Shadow Man’s hunger and my pounding head and aching eyes wouldn’t let me forget it. Before I could stop them, two layers fell clear, and once again, I watched his tongue skim his lower lip. He’d already undressed me in his mind and although I couldn’t read his thoughts, I could clearly see what he planned to do with me.
Fear took me then, my flight instincts kicking in with a frenzy.
I struggled to wriggle free of his grasp, pulling away from him, my bare feet itching to run along the smooth concrete floor and hide away in the shadows.
His grip grew tighter the more I struggled, but I had to get away from that tongue, those eyes.
“Calm down.” He yanked me back to his side, my head jerking painfully.
“Let me go,” I cried. “Please, let me go.” I pushed at his fingers, trying to peel them off me. Panic made my movements frantic and useless.
“Stop struggling and I won’t have to hurt you.”
“That’s not what your face is telling me.”
He snatched me towards him, grabbing my other arm and looking down at me, awed-fear tripping over his expression. “What do you see?”
I froze, shrinking away from his hard gaze.
He knew.
He knew I could read emotions. He knew I could see things others couldn’t.
I clamped my lips together and looked to the floor.
The elevator dinged, the doors opening smoothly. With a snicker, he pulled me into the lift and pressed the button for the top floor.<
br />
My lips trembled as my mind raced to figure it all out. That’s why he’d been watching me so closely at the poker game. He must have figured out that Miguel had used me to cheat and win. That’s why he’d pulled Miguel aside after the game.
The phone call Miguel got just before he left me alone with Mendez. That look on his face!
“One hundred thousand,” I mumbled, the static words coming back to me like a dream.
“Let’s hope you’re worth it.” His snappy words felt like a slap in the face.
I’d been sold.
Oh, shit, I’d been sold!
Chapter 2
Eric
“So what do you think’s happened to her?”
“I don’t know!” I pinched the bridge of my nose, sick of Nicole’s repeated question. I hit the space bar on my computer, willing it to open up a little faster.
Dale paced the floor behind me, worrying his lip. “Let’s think about this and break it down. What do we know?” He turned on his heel and headed towards the windows. We’d moved from my room into the living area. It gave us more space to fidget and stress.
“Okay.” Nicole wrapped her arms around herself and sat down beside me. “Caity’s note said she’s working undercover.”
Dale nodded at his fiancée. “And she lied to give it to me, which means someone must have been watching her.”
“Kaplan,” I seethed. “It’s got to be her.”
We all nodded, our expressions grim and tight.
“We’re guessing that Quella was her person of interest.” I scraped my fingers through my hair, worry gnawing at me.
“It’s a pretty good guess considering Caity basically became another person in order to pull this off. That whole partying, night-club scene she got into. She must have been doing that to get in good with Quella.”
“Right.” I nodded at Nicole. “So she needed to earn Quella’s trust, because...” I spread my hands wide.
“Quella’s a criminal?” Nicole flicked her hand.
I wrinkled my nose with a frown, opening up a search engine on the Internet. “That doesn’t feel right. I may not have eyes like Caity, but Quella didn’t seem smart enough to pull off criminal.”
“Criminals don’t have to be smart.” Dale shook his head. “Although she did have an innocent, clueless vibe about her.”
“Totally.” Nicole nodded, spinning her new engagement ring around her fourth finger. “So maybe it was to get to a family member or something.”
Dale clicked his fingers. “Which is why she needed to go away with her for Thanksgiving.”
“That makes sense.” I nodded. “But it still doesn’t get us any closer to her.”
Google finally popped up and I typed in Agent Zoey Kaplan FBI, hoping for any kind of link that would get me her contact information. It took me through to the FBI website and her page. I glared at the photo, hating her perfectly cut hair and those sharp eyes of hers. Scanning through the document, I looked for a mobile number, but there were no contact details for the woman.
“Shit.” I tapped the arm of the chair with my knuckles.
“No contact details?” Dale asked.
I shook my head and squeezed my aching temple. “As if it would be that easy.”
“We could try calling the FBI main office, see where that would lead us.” Dale shrugged.
“We’ll be stone-walled for sure. They don’t give out details about undercover operations to the public.” Nicole frowned. “And besides, there’s no way Kaplan would legitimately be able to use Caity like this. She must be working outside of the law, which means she’s not going to admit to shit.”
“How did she find out about Caity’s eyesight anyway?” Dale put his hands on his hips and looked at me.
I rubbed my forehead, pushing the heel of my hand into my eye. “Caity let it slip when we were helping out with the Professor Hoffman case last year. Kaplan was watching her like a hawk and knew something was up. She made Caity admit everything and that’s why they used her to get to Cameron, who led them straight to the evidence. Kaplan knew Caity would be able to play the part right, because she could read Cameron and say all the right things to get him talking.”
Dale nodded. He’d taken on this whole ‘Caity has a super power’ idea without even flinching. So had Nicole for that matter. I guessed I wasn’t that surprised that they bought into the supernatural with Dale having a solid faith and all. Their quiet acceptance was a huge relief. I was only just holding it together and if they’d freaked out or not believed me... Well, I wasn’t sure how much more stress I could handle.
Caity, where are you?
“So, if Kaplan used her for her eyesight once, then we can assume that she’s doing the same thing this time around. Logic tells us she wouldn’t have approached Caity otherwise.” Dale’s soft voice made me look across at him.
I nodded.
“And this eyesight of hers it...well, if she can read people and know how they’re feeling, it’s kind of like a secret weapon in some ways. We have to assume that it’s keeping her safe.”
My head bobbed like a mechanical toy...whose batteries needed charging.
I tried to buy into what Dale was saying, but I couldn’t quite get there.
Nicole’s small hand landed on my arm. She gave it a gentle squeeze, her eyes filling with compassion.
“Her note said she’d explain everything when she gets back. If she’s working with the FBI, it’s their job to keep her safe and bring her home.”
My jaw locked for a second as I fought the thickening in my throat. “I can’t just sit around and wait.”
I couldn’t bring myself to explain why. I couldn’t relive the sound of gunfire and the way Gramps’ eyes rounded before he fell to the floor. I couldn’t tell them about the way his foot twitched before going still or how his vacant eyes gazed up at the ceiling. They’d never smile at me again.
The stone in my gut was heavy and debilitating. I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, tears burning as I fought to contain them.
I couldn’t form the words to say my father, the one who had abandoned me nearly a decade ago, saved my life. I couldn’t admit to the fact my grandfather was lying dead in his home and I hadn’t even called the police. What the hell was I supposed to say to them anyway? My Gramps had been murdered trying to save me from two thugs who were waiting for me in his home? How did they even know who I was? What the hell had my father done?
His past. That’s what he’d said.
My face bunched into a tight scowl. Asshole.
No, I couldn’t call the police. They’d just drag me in to ask questions I didn’t have the answers to. My dad and I were the only witnesses to Gramps’ murder, but that still didn’t mean I knew anything!
I didn’t have time to waste, not when Caity could be in danger...and like hell they’d help me with that. One sniff of the FBI and Kaplan, they’d no doubt wash their hands of this, spouting off about how it was outside their jurisdiction.
I knew I’d have to deal with this whole Gramps thing sooner or later, but...
I squeezed my eyes shut, reliving the scene again.
I’d left my father on the floor with a bleeding nose and stormed out of the house to get to Caity.
She had to be my only focus now.
If I thought about anything else I’d disintegrate. I couldn’t bring Gramps back to life, but I could still save my girlfriend.
“I have to keep moving. I have to keep going,” I whispered the words, digging my fingers into my skull. “I need her,” I choked.
It was the truth.
I’d lost Gramps. She was all I had left.
I had to find her. I had to make sure she was safe.
Chapter 3
Caitlyn
The closer we got to the top floor, the faster my heart galloped. I seriously thought I’d pass out by the time we reached the penthouse. The edges of my vision began to fuzz as my mind exploded with scenarios, dread lacing each one.
The doors slid open and Shadow Man pulled me into a lavish room with plush, black carpet. My feet sunk into the soft pile, soothing my aches for just a moment. I gazed around the interior, taking in the gold and black striped wallpaper and shiny, black furniture. Everything was square and precise. Sharp, cold lines that seemed to encapsulate the tone of the room.
“Santiago!” the man beside me called. His strong fingers were still pinching into my bicep, a vice-like warning that told me not to try bolting again.
A tall, broad man appeared in the double doorway, his face was long and horse-like with a large nose. His beard was perfectly trimmed and he actually looked like a charming businessman, in his dark gray trousers and navy shirt. I ripped off his mask the second he appeared and all the charm vanished.
His large, brown eyes assessed me, traveling down my body and drinking me in, as if savoring a fine wine. His wide lips twitched before breaking into a broad smile. It wasn’t pleasant; there was no warmth in the expression.
I threw his mask back on to compare and found his couldn’t-care-less poker face easier to absorb. I kept it in place as he sauntered towards me.
“Well, Bruno did not tell me how beautiful you are.”
His eyes traveled to the man beside me. “Forgive me, Uncle. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
They both smirked and I saw Bruno’s haughty victory. I threw his mask back on as well, hoping my eyes and head would let me take a quick break.
Santiago ascended the two stairs and stopped in front of me, his body brushing mine. He gazed down at me, gently cupping my face and running his thumb over my cut lip and swollen cheek with a light tut.
I wanted to flinch away, but Bruno slapped his hand on the back of my head and kept me still. My only form of protest was my rapid breathing, which only seemed to encourage them. They were like pit bulls, turned on by the smell of fear.
Closing my eyes, I forced in a long, slow breath and willed my nerves to stop freaking out. It took a minute, but eventually I found the strength to open my eyes and gaze up at my captor.