Poker Face (The Masks Series Book 4) Page 12

  And that’s when I saw him.

  He was ambling down the sidewalk with a man I didn’t recognize and I had to look twice to make sure I wasn’t imagining something, but I knew Eric’s gait anywhere. I’d watched him walk towards me so many times, I had every contour and muscle of his body memorized.

  A beanie hid his luscious locks and he was wearing these shades that looked a little space-age. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his shoulders were slightly hunched. He looked tired. He hadn’t shaved in a few days; his long stubble was turning into a beard that didn’t suit him.

  I stopped, my lips parting as I soaked him in.

  “Come.” Bruno pulled my arms away from my body and tugged at my hand, threading his fingers through mine as he jerked me to the crossing.

  I tried not to flinch as Eric brushed straight past me. His eyes caught mine for the briefest moment, but he didn’t recognize me. He scanned my dress, surprised by the plunging neckline, but he didn’t take the time to admire my body. He wasn’t the least bit interested in some skinny woman, dressed like a high-class escort, with jet-black hair.

  I glanced over my shoulder, watching him stride away. The urge to yank my hand free and chase after him was so overpowering I nearly gave into it. Thankfully my mind leap-frogged over my insanity, quickly playing out a string of harrowing consequences, all of which ended in the desert.

  My body felt like wood as I clipped along beside Bruno and down the road. We paused at one more set of lights and I stole another peek over my shoulder, but Eric was gone. The loss pierced me like a stake through the heart. I could have touched him, reached out my hand and pulled myself into his arms!

  Tears began to sting. I sniffed at them, screaming at myself to not give anything away. We crossed the next street and entered the Cosmopolitan Casino. It was all glitter and glam. We passed the 1920s-style car - silver and sparkling. I felt like I was entering a Great Gatsby set or something. Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling with shimmering white strings of beads draping down like fabric. It was quite enchanting.

  I gazed up at the glossy interior, my lips parting in awe.

  Bruno yanked on my arm. “Don’t look like you’ve never seen wealth before,” he whispered. It was a sharp slap in the face.

  I recaptured my poker expression, allowing myself a very small smile when our host approached us. He had a George Clooney look about him, all style and class with beautifully maintained salt and pepper hair. He kissed my knuckles before leading us to the elevator, where we ascended to the fourth floor and entered a flashy casino room. This was my third one in five days and I was already getting over them. Filled with antique furniture and wall paintings that were probably worth more than my parents’ house, they were basically a statement to the world that these pompous men were wealthy pricks. Yeah, well, I already knew that!

  I recognized a couple of men from Friday night’s game, turning my face away when they glanced at me before remembering that I looked like a completely different person tonight.

  My mind darted back to Eric, the way his eyes had brushed over me, not even a flicker of recognition.

  What was he doing in Las Vegas?

  And who was that guy he was with?

  Did he know I was here? Had he come to find me?

  Hope soared, bursting through me like a jubilant fireworks display. Nerves followed quickly in its wake. Eric couldn’t be here. What if he bumped into Marchant?

  Bile surged up my throat, my head spinning as black dots stunted my vision. I gripped Bruno’s hand, and he shot me a quick scowl. Jolted into submission by his dark look, I swallowed down my anxiety, straightening my back and putting on the show he wanted me to.

  I couldn’t make a mistake.

  Bruno took a seat at the table and after a few shallow pleasantries, the cards were dealt. I tried to watch the game and concentrate, I swear I did, but I couldn’t focus. My vision kept blurring with images of Eric. Fear for his safety skittered through me, but coursing behind those nightmare images were the fantasies of a foolish girl who pictured Eric climbing my tower and rescuing me. My fingers jittered on Bruno’s shoulders, I pinched at his collar and ran my fingers through his hair as I tried to release some of my pent-up tension while still playing the part of a besotted girlfriend. My poker face was in play; I could tell by the way no one looked twice at my restlessness. Masks fell revealing nothing new to me. I saw the triumphant glee of the man opposite us and suddenly realized I’d just screwed up big-time.

  “Mierda!” Bruno muttered, flicking his cards to the dealer.

  I flinched. It hadn’t taken me long to figure out his harsh Spanish whisper meant ‘shit’. Bruno said it all the time, but not usually with this much venom. I looked down at the table, watching a large pile of chips being scraped away from him. He glanced up at me, a lascivious smile on his lips. He was going for enamored, I could tell he wanted to show the room I was his beautiful prize for the night, but he couldn’t pull it off. Beneath his mask, steam was coming out of his ears, anger pulsing from him, mixed with salacious triumph.

  I wanted to freak out, fall to my knees and beg him not to tell Santiago, but that wouldn’t work. He wanted me to mess up. I may have just cost the sicko beside me a few hundred grand, but I’d also gained him an unwilling bed buddy.

  I was such an idiot. Picturing Eric on some damn white steed? I’d just sentenced myself to the worst night of my life!

  My eyes flicked back to the table, desperately scanning chips and reading faces. I was too late. Bruno had been betting big, misinterpreting my mindless anxiety as code. He only had enough left for one round and I had two choices: bring him back from the dead, which could potentially look highly suspicious, or sell a sweet story to Santiago that just might save my life.

  I let Bruno lose the next round.

  He fired out of his chair, bowing politely before snatching my arm and storming out of the room. I tripped over my heels as we hurried through the door. Sal caught my other arm and steadied me, easily keeping up with Bruno’s quick pace.

  We charged back to Santiago’s casino, terror coursing through me in sickening waves. If I couldn’t sell my lies, it wouldn’t matter if Eric found me or not...because I was a dead girl.

  Chapter 22

  Eric

  I didn’t know what it was about the girl in red and gold, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  Dad and I walked as far as The Venetian before turning back to the hotel. Our amble through the streets seemed kind of aimless and only made me jittery. It didn’t take Dad long to pick up on my vibe.

  “Let’s head back.”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged with a sigh. “I guess so.”

  My eyes scanned the streets as we walked past groups of giggling girls, scantily clad couples with their arms around each other, women dressed in bikinis with large feathers sprouting out of their shameless costumes. I couldn’t count the amount of cards with topless women that were thrust at me. It was sick but I took them, checking to make sure Caity wasn’t on any of them before I threw them away.

  I don’t know what I would have done if I had seen her. The thought of Caity being forced to do something that degrading made me want to kill something. She’d given herself to me willingly. It had been sweet and perfect...pure. We’d only ever had each other, and the thought of another man violating her... I ground my teeth together, pulling in a few sharp breaths.

  Two girls in tight shorts and barely-there tank tops swayed past us, their eyes lingering up my body in appreciation. I wrinkled my nose at them. I didn’t want fake and plastic. I wanted real, soulful, genuine. I wanted Caity.

  That’s why I’d barely flinched when we walked passed the black-haired girl in the sparkly dress. She was pretty and everything, with a body much like my girl’s, but she wasn’t my girl and therefore I wasn’t interested.

  It actually bugged me that I kept thinking about her.

  Shoving my hands into my pockets, I scowled, annoyed that I found
myself looking for her as we walked back to the hotel. I’d only given her the briefest glance, but something in her eyes caught me. I’d turned away from it quickly, not wanting to feel that pull of attraction. I was a one-woman man and I’d stay that way until the day I died.

  I just hoped I found Caity before that happened.

  It was pretty late when we got back to the motel room. We didn’t bother talking, both feeling like our street walk had been a wasted trip. We’d lingered outside of the Palacio del Diablo for a little bit, but Dad didn’t want to go in. Instead he scanned exit routes along The Strip, pointing out good streets to duck down if we were on the run.

  “If you hide there for a minute.” He’d point. “That would score you enough time to double-back.”

  I listened, only half-interested in his prattle.

  Dropping onto the bed, I let out a tired groan, my feet dangling mid-air. I didn’t think sleep would come easily, but my body was begging for it. My eyes were scratchy, my head pounding. Morning would be here soon enough and then we could get on with finding Caity. If I wanted to get there any faster, I needed to sleep.

  I closed my eyes and swam towards the blackness, begging it to take me. Much to my dismay, it did, but the figure swimming towards me through my murky dreams was not the blonde beauty I’d fallen in love with, but a girl with raven hair and blue eyes like the ocean.

  Chapter 23

  Caitlyn

  Bruno hauled me out of the elevator and threw me across the penthouse floor. I fell down the two short steps, rolling in a heap on the carpet. Sal bent forward to help me up.

  “Leave her!” Bruno’s bellowing words drew the attention of the entire suite.

  Stomping down the stairs, he jerked my arm and dragged me up, his fist rocketing into my belly. I slumped back to the floor, gasping sobs shaking me as I held my stomach and curled into a ball.

  “You failed.” He bent over me, his spittle landing on my cheek. “You hear that?” Brushing back the hair covering my face, he knelt on me, digging his knee into my thigh and whispering into my ear, “And now you’re mine.”

  “Bruno, get off her,” Santiago clipped.

  Cold-fear laced through me as Bruno remained on top of me, his long fingers running over my shoulder and grabbing a fistful of fabric.

  “Bruno! Apagado!” Santiago boomed.

  With a reluctant huff, Bruno stood, placing his foot on my hip. “She’s mine, Uncle. She lost me two-hundred thousand at that poker game. She failed.”

  I looked up from the floor, eyeing Santiago carefully. His lips twitched, his mask falling to show me his deep disappointment. He didn’t want Bruno to have me. He wanted to keep using me.

  I had to make this work.

  Rising up on my elbow, I kept my eyes on Santiago. “You have to let me explain,” I started softly.

  “Shut up!” Bruno’s fist rocked into my cheek.

  It was like a cannonball. I gasped, a whimper breaking through my shock.

  “Stop it, you fool! Not the face! She’s no good to us bloodied and bruised.” Santiago strode over to us, flicking Bruno’s foot off my hip and helping me stand.

  Holding both my arms with an iron grip, he shook me until I was looking at him. I blinked at the tears threatening to fall, trying to pull a poker face that wasn’t interested in appearing.

  “Explain, my dear, and do it quickly.”

  I swallowed. “I didn’t fail you tonight.”

  “I lost my money!” Bruno flicked his hand in the air.

  “We were caught. I couldn’t let him win.”

  “What!” Santiago’s word was a gunshot, silencing the room.

  Bruno went still, his eyes narrowing.

  Breathing in, I scrambled for the lie I’d conjured on my terrifying walk from one casino to the other. “There was a man at the table. He was watching us closely. I know I was disguised tonight, but something in his gaze was suspicious.”

  “I saw nothing like that.”

  “I wasn’t looking at masked faces the way you were.” I tried to keep my voice firm and even. “I picked up on it within the first few hands. He wouldn’t stop watching me, my hands. I had to start adapting my movements. I had to let you lose or you would have been caught and lost a lot more than just your money.”

  Bruno didn’t believe me. His face told me everything. He didn’t want to believe me. He was hungry for my flesh. I looked away from his lusty expression and stared at Santiago.

  “Please, I was only trying to protect him. I couldn’t have said anything there.”

  “You could have whispered in my ear!”

  “That would have just given us away!” I argued back.

  “Callate! Both of you.”

  I figured Santiago had said something like ‘shut up’, because Bruno pressed his lips together and glared at his uncle’s back.

  Santiago gave me nothing. Both masked and unmasked expressions showed indecision, disbelief. My lips trembled as I awaited his verdict. He was either going to throw me to Bruno or give me one more night of peace.

  “I want to believe you.” He let me go and I sagged against the table behind me. “But you still lost my family a lot of money tonight.”

  I swallowed, knowing his fist was coming before it hit me. I doubled over, the punch feeling like a baseball bat to my ribcage. I couldn’t contain my sob; my body shook as I cradled my aching side.

  “You saved Bruno’s reputation and for that, I will let you sleep alone, but do not forget, Carlotta, that I do not give out idle threats. If you are no use to me, Bruno can have you and when he’s done, we’ll sell you on.” He pulled my hair, yanking the wig off.

  I cried out as the pins holding it in place ripped at my scalp.

  Yanking the net off my head, he pulled my blond locks free, rubbing them between his fingers, tipping his head as he scrutinized me.

  “The blonde beauty with eyes like the ocean. That’s how we’ll sell you. Men will be lining up around a corner for just a taste.” Using my hair, he pulled me towards him, sniffing my locks and running his tongue up my neck.

  I tried to lean away from his hot touch but he grabbed my side, digging his thumb into my bruised ribs.

  Tears broke free, cascading over my cheeks. I fought my wobbling lips, biting down to contain my disgusted wail.

  He stepped away from my quivering form with a little snicker before glancing at his enraged nephew. “Oh, come, Bruno. You know she only has so many lives. You will get her eventually.” He flicked his head towards the living area. “Have a nightcap with me.”

  With a huff, Bruno brushed past me, sticking me with his molten glare before stepping past his uncle. Santiago grinned at me, his smile smug and slap-worthy.

  Turning to Sal, he clipped, “Lock her in her room and then ask Monique to come and clean her up.”

  I stayed against the table while Santiago walked away. Sal’s hand was gentle on my arm. It hurt to move too quickly and I gasped as he pulled me up the stairs. He gave me a sympathetic smile, slowing his pace to a snail’s crawl. I inched my way into the room and gingerly perched on the end of my bed. The click of the lock was actually comforting.

  Drooping my head, I fought a fresh wave of tears. I didn’t want to dissolve right now, I wanted to focus on the fact that I’d seen Eric. He was in Las Vegas! I wasn’t a hundred percent sure why, but maybe...just maybe it was for me.

  A shaky laugh burst from my mouth, my lips forming their first genuine smile in what felt like months.

  “Please keep looking,” I whispered. “Don’t give up.”

  Closing my eyes, I gently lay back on my bed and curled to my side, imagining Eric’s arm tenderly weaving around me, wrapping me in a bubble where no one could harm me again.

  Chapter 24

  Eric

  My dreams remained murky and dark throughout the night. I was tossed in an ocean, surging over the waves. I kept flipping off my board, my body crashing below the surface as I struggled for air. Finally I’d pop
free and gulp in some oxygen, only to be tugged below. I’d open my eyes beneath the salty water and be met by the girl with black hair and blue eyes. I tried to swim away from her but she chased me, her strokes long and fast. Grabbing my ankle, she kept screaming at me under the water, her bubbly cries growing desperate before she’d start to sink. My gut instinct was to dive after her, but the dream would always return to the beginning before I could.

  It wasn’t until the sky began to grow light and my body stirred out of slumber that I was able to take control of the dream. This time when she sank, I kicked hard and powered after her. The ocean grew dark around her falling figure, her pale hand outstretched to me...and then she opened her eyes. Her blue gaze punched through me, her head of dark hair finally floating free to reveal...

  “Caity.”

  I sat up, her name a whisper on my lips.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I rubbed them with my thumb and forefinger, trying to figure out the watery images. That girl with the black hair had been Caity all along. I knew it wasn’t true, the dream was only conjuring my desire, but it was unsettling enough to get me out of bed.

  I checked my watch; it was just after six. Dad was still snoring softly into his pillow. I straightened out my clothes and snuck into the bathroom. Splashing some water on my face, I tied my hair into a low ponytail. A few hairs broke free and I tucked them behind my ears.

  Snatching up my phone, I paused at the door and hoped Dad wouldn’t be too pissed with me for leaving. Not that I should care or anything. I crept out of the room and flicked my hoodie up as I descended the stairs.

  I had no idea where I was going. I just knew I wanted to be out in Vegas. I had a snowball’s chance in hell of finding Caity holed up in some motel room. I didn’t care that the city would only just be rising. I needed to be out in it, looking.

  The morning air was crisp and refreshing. The sun was creeping up the horizon, hitting the tall buildings with a golden light. I walked the Strip, passing homeless people with their cardboard signs and groups of party animals that were only just stumbling to their beds. One father was out with a stroller, looking sleep-deprived as he sipped his coffee.