Poker Face (Masks #4) Page 18

  He spun out of the room, leaving me with a cold, hard rock in my belly. I kept my eyes locked on the door, listening to the sound of a revving engine and a spray of rocks. I was too numb to fight the guy securing my ankles to the legs of the chair.

  I closed my eyes, feeling sick. What the hell had I just done?

  There was a tap at the door and then a young face appeared. I recognized him as the limo driver. “He took the car. Looks like I’ll be waiting around to take you guys back, so can you hurry it up please.”

  Snatching the shovel from against the wall, Sal thrust it at the smaller man. “You want to make this quicker, go start digging their graves.”

  The driver hesitantly took the spade, his deep brown eyes glancing over me. His brow wrinkled with what I thought was regret. With a sad frown, he pushed the door closed.

  The two remaining men turned toward us, their cold stares unnerving me. Dad sat statue-still behind me. Funny, I was actually expecting him to say more at this point, give me some farewell speech, another apology, but maybe he knew better. With my insides raging like they were, I probably wouldn’t be able to hear anything anyway.

  The men moved to a rickety table against the shack wall. It was covered with tools and I knew right away that none of them had ever been used for their designed purpose. I gulped at the sawdust in my throat, praying they’d get it over with quickly.

  Sal picked up a ball-pein hammer, weighing it in his hands before nodding and turning back to face us.

  My body went rigid, breaths firing out of my nose as I prepared myself for the pain.

  The door flew open before Sal reached me.

  “It’s the boss.” The driver held out a cellphone. “He’s checking in on Bruno.”

  Sal looked to the other guy and softly swore. “What do we tell him?”

  The other guy shrugged. “I’m not taking the fall for that spoiled brat.”

  “Tell him we’ll call him back.”

  The driver shook his head and thrust the phone toward him. “You tell him.”

  “You!”

  “You!”

  “Shut up!” Sal boomed, his eyes skimming over me. Flicking his head to his two companions, they all left the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

  My body sagged, the surge of adrenaline draining from my muscles. The spigot of pulsing energy had been on full bore and suddenly my head grew light and fuzzy.

  “Just stay calm. We’re going to get out of this,” Dad muttered, wrestling with the cuffs around our wrists.

  “Really,” I snapped. “And how the hell are we supposed to do that?”

  “By not losing our temper, and thinking this through logically.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. “Let’s be logical. We’re both cuffed to a chair with no key. Two guys, each the size of Ajax, are testing out tools to smash our bones with, while another man is digging our graves. Besides all that, the only girl I have ever truly loved is tied to a bed somewhere and about to be abused by a man who deserves to be castrated!” I ended in a bellow.

  “Shut the hell up and pull yourself together!” Dad snapped. “You think I got out of my death sentence by whining like a school kid? You want to get Caity out of her nightmare then rescue yourself first.”

  “HOW!”

  “I’m working on it!”

  “Oh, whatever!” I spat. “You’re so full of piss and wind. Always talking, always got the right thing to say, but when it comes down to it you never step up.”

  “I never step up?” Dad’s hands jerked against the cuffs. They jingled and clunked against the chair, pulling at my aching shoulders. “I sacrificed eight years of my life for you!”

  “Which you wouldn’t have had to do if you’d just been able to control your gambling problem.”

  “Hey! Hey! I apologized for that, and no matter what I say or do now I can’t take it back! You can either let that eat at you for the rest of your life, or you can forgive me and get the hell over it!”

  My jaw clenched tight.

  “I’ve tried to do right by you, kid. I’ve tried to keep you safe and yeah, I failed. I lost Gramps, the one guy you relied on and I couldn’t save him for ya.” Dad’s voice wobbled.

  I went still, listening to the ragged way he sucked in his next breath and the quiet brokenness of his voice.

  “I swore to myself that day I dragged my beat-up ass out of the desert that I would do everything in my power to make sure you didn’t end up like me. And I have been vigilant in keeping Marchant away from you. But I couldn’t say no when you asked to come back here. I knew there was nothing I could do to stop you from coming for your girl and I got it, because the way you feel about saving Caity is the way I feel about keeping you safe. I know I’ve broken way too many promises in the past, but I’ve kept this one and I will never break it. You’re my son. And I’ll do anything it takes to give you the life you deserve...and I’ll keep doing that until I breathe my last breath. You got me?”

  I swallowed.

  “Buddy? You get it?”

  It hurt to talk, but I managed to whisper, “Yeah, Dad. I get it.”

  “Good,” he clipped, once again in full control of his emotions. “Now I don’t know how long these guys are going to be, but let’s not waste any time. If we can get a shuffle going, we might be able to make it to that table and find a tool that can get these cuffs off.”

  I nodded, turning my head to listen to Dad’s instructions. But before he could give any more, the sound of an approaching chopper cut through the air.

  We both stilled, looking up at the pocked tin roof.

  “Rhodes?” I whispered hopefully.

  “It’s got to be.” Dad chuckled.

  We sat in bullish silence, listening to the chopper drawing closer and coming in to land. A smile tugged at the edge of my lips… until gunshots tore along the edge of the shack. We flung ourselves sideways, landing with a thud and matching groans. I ducked my head as more shots spat through the air. A few whizzed through the thin shack walls, pinging off the metal. Yelling ensued, followed by the sound of bodies dropping to the earth.

  The chopper blades still whirred, but the gunfire stopped.

  Slowly lifting my head, I struggled to look over my shoulder. “Dad, are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he groaned.

  Our double chair awkwardly shifted as he strained to see the door.

  Shuffling footsteps approached. I held my breath, hoping for good news, but the second the door flicked back I realized I should have known better.

  I didn’t recognize the men standing in the doorway. The sun shone behind them, hiding the details of their features, but I could tell neither of them were Rhodes and I could tell by the dread coursing through my stomach that these men had nothing to do with the FBI.

  “Aw, shit,” Dad muttered.

  “This just got worse, didn’t it?”

  Dad cursed under his breath.

  “How can anything be worse than what was about to happen to us?”

  With a shake of his head, Dad breathed one word: “Marchant.”

  34

  Caitlyn

  My wrists were burning. It didn’t help that I’d spent the last few hours fighting my bonds. Of course Bruno hadn’t chosen fine ribbon or a soft scarf to tether me to his bedpost. No, he’d wrapped coarse rope around my wrists and ankles. My body was screaming from being in this position for so long, my cramping muscles making it impossible to relax. As if I could anyway. I was lying starfish on some sicko’s bed while my boyfriend was being tortured and probably buried alive, just like Gabriel’s brother.

  A sob quivered my belly. Tears burned my eyes but I blinked at them, refusing to let them fall. I would not give in. Not yet. When Bruno got back from doing Santiago’s bidding, I had to have my wits about me. I had to have enough sense in my head to scratch his eyes out. I’d do anything not to let him touch me. Just the very idea of his weight on top of me, of his slimy tongue touching my skin, of his...

&
nbsp; I squeezed my eyes tight. “Shut up, Caity. Just stop thinking!”

  My ankles jerked against the ties, rubbing the skin until it burned so much I couldn’t stand it. I let out a cry, my head sagging back against the pillows. My belly quaked.

  What was the point of fighting?

  Eric was dead.

  A tear slipped free, my resolve to stay strong crumbling as I let the haunting thought inside.

  He was gone.

  I shuddered, memories taunting me...the first time he really spoke to me...on the beach, our first kiss, his killer-watt smile, the way his hands felt as they trailed down my back, the soft pads of his fingers skimming my skin.

  The lock clicked on the door. I flinched, frantically struggling against my bonds as it crept open. The footsteps approaching the bed were fast and clipped, making me struggle that much harder.

  “Don’t touch me!” Showing my fear was a big mistake, it’d no doubt turn Bruno on, but I was desperate. I just needed—

  “Shhh, calm down. It’s okay.” Soft hands touched my face, brushing the ragged locks of hair away from my eyes.

  I sucked in a breath. “Monique. Are you supposed to be in here?”

  Her smile was soft and kind. “Santiago sent me. He needs you for a meeting.”

  I curled my lip and looked away from her.

  “I know,” she whispered. “But you must.”

  She worked at the knots around my wrists first, struggling to untie them. Eventually the first one broke free and she rubbed my tattered skin, tutting in sympathy.

  I ignored her, keeping my eyes on the ceiling as she worked off my other bindings. My body felt weak as she sat me up. Her hand rubbed slow circles on my back.

  “Come, I have drawn a bath for you.”

  “I don’t want a bath.”

  “You must.”

  “Must I?” I jerked away from her. “He took my love and he expects me to just work for him?”

  “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I’m hurting!” I tapped my chest. “You think this is less painful than the bruises? Than the broken ribs!” I sucked in a breath, my vision blurring with tears. I held the air in my lungs, shaking my head until I was forced to take another breath. I hated the way my body betrayed me.

  I always thought Romeo and Juliet and all those tragic love stories were so over-the-top and melodramatic, but I got it now. That agony, that hollow, soul-destroying ache pounding through my body… that was more painful than anything I’d ever endured.

  I covered my face with my hands and doubled over. Monique’s hand reached out for me again, her arm covering me as she rested her head on my shoulder and shushed me like a mother hen.

  “What’s taking so long?” Santiago’s bark made Monique jump.

  She jolted away from me, standing by the bed. “Sorry, señor, but Carlotta is very tired. She has had a stressful night.”

  Santiago approached the bed, snatching my wrist and rubbing his thumb across my raw skin before his eyes darted to my matching ankles.

  “Bruno es un idiota.” He sighed.

  Monique bit her lip. I was guessing idiota meant idiot. I could think of far more vile things to call Santiago’s nephew, and I felt ready to say them until the man’s eyes snapped to me…and his mask slipped away.

  He may have thought his nephew was a moron, but you didn’t say that to a man like him. He was still livid about my escape attempt and he wasn’t going to let me forget it in a hurry.

  “Get up. Get dressed. I need you for a meeting.”

  “What meeting?”

  His eyebrow quirked and he glared down at me.

  I met his dirty look with one of my own.

  “You’ll find out when you get there.”

  “I’m not doing it.”

  “You will do it. I have a potential client who could use your eyes.”

  I stood from the bed. “They’re not available today.”

  His unmasked face simmered, his expression flashing with unchecked wrath.

  Pulling my body tall, I choked back my fear. “I gave you an opportunity last night. I told you if you set them free that I would willingly do anything for you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  Santiago snickered, his laughter growing to a loud explosion as he tipped his head back. “Carlotta, my dear, do you honestly think I can’t stop you from running? I don’t need your word or your promise, and Bruno will take you when I say he can.” In a flash, he snatched my face, pulling me toward him. I gasped, losing my balance and having to grab his forearms to keep from falling over. His spittle sprayed me as he seethed. “You will do whatever I say because I demand it, and if you fight me, I will break you.”

  The fear I’d tried to choke down surged back up my throat.

  “You are mine, Carlotta, and you have no right to negotiate.”

  “I’d rather die than work for you,” I spat.

  With a smirk, he let me go, pushing me back so I fell onto the bed. Standing over me, he wagged his finger at my head. “You will give me what I want or I will render you useless for the rest of your life.” Leaning down to my ear, he whispered, “You won’t get the satisfaction of death. You will spend the rest of your days in suffering.”

  My eyes skimmed over his face and his black smile spread.

  “You know I speak the truth, don’t you?”

  I nodded.

  “Then get dressed!” His booming finish made me recoil. With a soft snigger he walked toward the door, pausing once to shout at Monique, “I want her ready in thirty minutes!”

  The door slammed shut behind him. A shudder ran down my spine, making my body spasm. Monique’s soft touch did nothing to abate the numb reality raining over me.

  This was it.

  Monique was right. I wanted to die, but Santiago would never let me.

  The only other choice I had left was acceptance, and I didn’t know if I could do that.

  35

  Eric

  The helicopter ride took less than an hour. I couldn’t help glancing at my watch every two seconds. I didn’t know why; it was like a nervous tick or something.

  Marchant’s men had hauled us up, using bolt cutters from the shed to break the cuffs. Dad and I didn’t try to fight them as they led us out of the shed. The two machine guns aimed at our heads made the decision an easy one. We had to step over Sal’s bloody body, his torso riddled with bullet holes. The other guy had a bright red hole on his forehead, blood trickling from the opening. I couldn’t see the driver properly, just a black shoe sticking out from behind the bush. It reminded me of Gramps.

  I jerked away from the sight, locking my eyes on the helicopter in front of us. The blades kept whirring the whole time. We climbed the step and jumped in, knowing it was pointless to fight. There’s no way we could battle three armed men. Even if I had made a break for the gun lying next to Sal’s corpse, could I have gotten a shot off before being gunned down?

  If I was honest, I didn’t know why they hadn’t finished us off already.

  The chopper banked to the left and I got a clear view of The Strip. The sun was hitting the tip of the Luxor, making it a blinding diamond on the end of this surreal finger in the desert. I glanced at Dad; his face was hard, unrelenting, giving nothing away. I wanted Caity beside me, reading him, telling me everything she saw.

  I wanted Caity beside me. Period.

  At least I was closer to her now. I glanced at the man adjacent to me. His brow arched and he prodded his gun into my side. What difference did it make if I was closer to her? It’d all be for nothing if I couldn’t make it back to her in time.

  The helicopter slowed to a hover, coming to land on the outskirts of town. A black car was waiting for us on the runway. We were shoved into it before the doors slammed shut around us. We drove for twelve minutes and twenty-six seconds, according to my watch, parking underground. I wasn’t sure exactly where we were, having driven back-roads to get here, but there was something familiar about the struct
ure.

  The second we stepped out of the car, I knew what it was.

  Club Impulse—the old building I’d broken into the night before. We were obviously below ground.

  “Get moving.” The gun poked me in the shoulder while a rough hand pushed me forward.

  I followed Dad, keeping my eyes on the back of his head. We were yanked to a stop outside a black, metal door. The guy in front banged twice and the door opened a few moments later.

  He went through, keeping us outside with the gun lackeys. I scanned the room, looking for any kind of exits, but all I could see were brick walls, the concrete holding them together chipped and crumbling.

  Quick conversation fired from behind the door, catching my attention.

  “You were supposed to wait until after they’d been buried and pick them up before they’d died!”

  “They would have heard the chopper coming.”

  “Which is why I told you to land a few miles back and go the rest of the way on foot! Now I have to deal with Santiago!”

  “Don’t worry, we killed all his men. Santiago will not find out for a while.”

  “Fine, fine. Let me deal with the kid and then I’ll go and make sure Santiago doesn’t become a thorn in my side.”

  The door flew open and a middle-aged man appeared. He reminded me of James Bond, all suave in his perfectly fitted business suit. His face had a hard edge to it, his eyes gleaming with a malice that he obviously wanted the world to see. His gaze flicked over me before skirting to my father. They rounded, his head jolting back with surprise before a low, gravely laugh shot out of his belly. “I thought you were dead.”

  Dad shrugged, his voice flat. “Surprise.”

  “Oh, yes, it mostly definitely is. I look forward to killing you again, Antonio...or should I say Declan?”

  “You know who I am.” Dad’s calm, unruffled voice was damn impressive. It reminded me of Gramps.

  Marchant stepped toward him, cupping the back of Dad’s head and gripping a fistful of hair. “I let you off easy last time. I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. Karma has kept you alive because I did not punish you enough the first time. No one steals from me. No one seduces my wife. You wrote your own death sentence.”