Poker Face (The Masks Series Book 4) Read online

  But they didn’t have a chance.

  The door flew open.

  I gasped, my body pinging straight.

  Sal walked into the room. “Come.”

  I gripped the arms of the chair, too afraid to move.

  With a soft sigh, he came to my side and put his hand beneath my arm. “Come.”

  I stumbled after him. I hadn’t eaten in nearly twenty-four hours. My body was weak and dehydrated. Any logical person would have sipped water from their bathroom tap, but I’d been too afraid to move from my spot against the wall. I didn’t even feel like peeing, which showed how little I’d digested throughout my harrowing ordeal.

  Sal walked me past the gold elevator and through a set of wide double doors. Around the corner was a long, black table, shiny, of course, and set with gold-trimmed dinnerware.

  “Buenos dias.” Santiago smiled at me and pointed to the chair beside him. “Please, come. Sit.”

  Sal moved me to the chair and pulled it out for me. I plopped into it, running my hand up my arm and squeezing my elbow. The tatty gold dress only just covered me. Thank goodness Bruno wasn’t in the room. I didn’t think I could handle his leering gaze.

  “Sal,” Santiago’s voice was soft and low. “Get her a robe.”

  I flicked my gaze towards Santiago. I guessed it was a small form of thank you. My lips would never be able to say the words.

  He smiled at me.

  I swallowed and pressed my back into the plush chair.

  “Please, eat something.”

  He lifted the covers off the plates, revealing a vast array of fresh fruits, pancakes and bacon.

  I gingerly reached for a slice of watermelon, keeping my eyes on Santiago as I bit into the sweet fruit. It felt divine in my stale mouth and it was an effort not to groan with relief.

  “What would you like to drink?”

  “Water,” I croaked.

  He nodded, snapping his fingers. A small waitress with jet-black hair, tied in a perfect bun, appeared.

  “Iced water.” Santiago pointed at me and she nodded once before disappearing out the door.

  Sal approached the table with a robe slung over his arm.

  I stood up, giving him a grateful smile as I reached for it.

  “Take off the dress.” Santiago sipped his morning coffee, his eyes on the paper beside him.

  I paused, my pulse vibrating through my veins. I cleared my throat. “That’s okay, I’ll just put the robe over it.”

  “Take off...the dress,” he repeated clearly, his eyes now landing on me with that don’t disobey me warning. “It needs to be thrown away.”

  I gave him a pleading look, even tearing off his mask to see if I could appeal to him in some way, but he was resolute.

  His brown gaze grew hard. “Take it off or I will ask Bruno to come in here and rip it off for you. I’m sure he’d enjoy that.”

  I pulled in a quivering breath, my eyes smarting with tears. Lifting my chin, I locked my gaze on the wall and slowly pulled my dress free. It fell to the floor, giving Sal and Santiago a full view of my naked body. The skimpy pair of panties I was wearing hardly cut it.

  I felt totally violated. The only person who had ever seen me naked was Eric and I hated, with a passion, that the status quo had changed. My body was a gift for him, and no one else.

  Snatching the robe from Sal’s hand, I pulled it on and wrapped it tightly around my waist, stepping out of the dress and sitting down with a thud. My eyes remained locked on the wall, my back straight and unflinching as I shakily tied the satin belt.

  “You have a nice body.” I could hear the smirk in Santiago’s voice. “Maybe I am not just a curves man after all.”

  My eyes snapped to his and I could see straight away that he was trying to mess with me. Even though he was joking, it totally felt like a slap in the face.

  My molten glare made his smirk grow and he soon threw his head back with a hearty laugh.

  The waitress arrived with my water. I took it from her and slugged it back. It was all I could do not to choke. The water bubbled up my windpipe and I shakily placed the glass on the table, hacking and pounding my chest.

  Santiago moved behind me and slapped my back.

  “Now, now, Carlotta. Breathe.”

  I sucked in some air, fighting off the water until finally I choked up my mouthful. Droplets dripped from my lip. Santiago picked up the cloth napkin beside my plate and dabbed at my mouth. I snatched it off him and finished the job myself.

  I wanted to ask him why he called me Carlotta, but stopped myself, remembering that Miguel had called me that at the poker game. I didn’t mind. I didn’t want these filthy men knowing my name anyway.

  Santiago sat beside me, eyeing me carefully as I dabbed my face. My cracked lip still hurt. It was hard not to wince.

  “It will heal.”

  I shot darts at his soft statement. I didn’t want him talking to me anymore.

  “Eat.” He pointed at the food. “There is work to be done.”

  “What work?” I reached for a banana and grabbed a piece of wholemeal toast off the bread board.

  “I want to work out the best way to use your ability to my advantage.”

  Peeling the fruit, I took up my knife and started squishing the banana onto my toast. It reminded me of Mom. She used to make me banana on toast all the time and drizzle it with liquid honey. It was my standard Saturday morning breakfast. Images of my brothers and sisters burst into my brain, torturing me. They would have spent most of the previous day together, celebrating all the reasons they had to be thankful. Holly would have spouted on about becoming a mother, Seth would have paid tribute to his beautiful wife, and Layla would have gone on about her precious children. Toby would have had some smart-ass thing to say, which normally would drive me crazy, but I’d have taken it.

  I’d take all my angst with him over one more second in this shark pit.

  My body vibrated with the will to run, but my brain stopped me. There was nothing I could do to escape this without being raped or shot. So instead, I squished that banana until my toast was flat like a piece of paper.

  Santiago’s eyebrows rose with amusement. My knife clattered onto the plate and I picked up my floppy toast and tried to eat it.

  “I am guessing you looked out your window this morning. You know where you are?”

  I nodded, licking a few crumbs off my lip.

  “Do you know which casino you are in?”

  I shook my head.

  “Huh.” He grinned. “Well, welcome to Palacio del Diablo.”

  “What does that mean?” I frowned.

  He chuckled, his eyes lighting with glee. “The Devil’s Palace.”

  My face scrunched with disgust, making him chortle.

  “Come, come, you have not seen it yet.” He winked. “It is actually the newest casino in Las Vegas. I only opened it six months ago and we are doing...” He nodded, lavish pride blooming over his face. “Very well.”

  “So what do you need me for then?” I dropped my half-eaten toast onto the plate and dusted off my fingers.

  “I am going to try you in a few different areas. I’m thinking security may be useful, but you were also incredibly valuable to Miguel at his poker game.” He tapped his forefingers together. “Think of this as a trial period. We will work out where you are most useful to me and go from there.”

  I nodded, dropping my gaze to the table as my mind raced with ways I could play this. If I was useless in the areas I didn’t like and shone at the things that weren’t so bad...

  “Remember Carlotta.” He touched my arm. “I need your best effort.”

  My eyes shot to his and I felt like I’d been caught doing something wrong. He couldn’t read minds, could he?

  I studied his face carefully, trying to figure it out, and quickly came to the sinking conclusion that although he might not be a mind-reader, he was intelligent and he wouldn’t let me get away with anything.

  “I know you don’
t need me to keep repeating myself, but you saw last night how much Bruno wants you.” Santiago tipped his head. “He has always been fond of blonde girls and...” Santiago grimaced. “That boy seems to thrive on fear.”

  The words dripped off his tongue like a poisonous warning.

  “I do not know where he gets it from, but...” Santiago’s finger trailed slowly up my arm, his light caress sending spikes of terror prickling down my back. “He would have so much fun with you.”

  I jerked away from his touch, rubbing the goosebumps from my arms. “I told you, if you let him touch me I’ll be worthless to you.”

  “Oh, I know.” Santiago grinned. “I wanted to assure you that if you do your best for me, I will keep you safe, untouched.” He tipped his head with a small shrug. “However, if you do not, I will be gifting you to Bruno and when he is done, we’ll sell you to the highest bidder.”

  He flashed me a broad smile, revealing straight white teeth; shark teeth that could rip me to pieces in a flash.

  “Do I have your word on that?” I squeaked.

  “Look at my face and you tell me.” He leaned towards me and I scrutinized his mask-less expression, my head finally bobbing in a shaky rhythm.

  With a chuckle, he rubbed his hands together. “I am glad we understand each other.”

  An icy numbness settled over my body, my joints feeling stiff and unusable as my brain tried to shut down, but Santiago wouldn’t let it. He popped from his chair with the vigor of an elementary school kid.

  “By the time you finish your food, there will be fresh clothes waiting for you. I want you showered and dressed within the hour.”

  I glanced up at him.

  “Sal will guard your door. You are safe.”

  He spun away and left the room. As soon as he was gone, the waitress stepped in and started clearing the table. She wouldn’t look at me, just kept her eyes down and her hands busy.

  I didn’t have the strength to talk to her. I barely had the willpower to function. Sliding my plate away from me, I gave up on the toast and stood. Sal stepped in behind me as soon as I shifted and trailed me to the bedroom. I locked the door from the inside.

  There were clothes neatly folded and waiting for me on the end of the bed. I ran my fingers over the crisp new pants and shirt, knowing they’d be my size. Santiago seemed to run his affairs like a well-oiled machine. I had no doubt he was a man of his word and although it would protect me for now, it could also lead to my destruction. If I screwed up, I’d be Bruno fodder and I didn’t think I could ever get over something like that.

  Chapter 6

  Eric

  My dreams were haunted by Gramps. Caity was ripped from my arms and replaced with a corpse, cold and lifeless. I’d turned to look at the body against me and scrambled away from it, screaming. Then Dad would appear, gripping my shoulder and holding me in place, making me stay, making me look. But the longer I stared at Gramps’ lifeless gaze, the more it disintegrated until I had to watch the one man who’d never let me down turn into a pile of gray ash that was swept away on the breeze.

  “No!” I jerked up with a gasp, sweat glistening over my skin. I felt cold and hot in the same moment. My head was pounding and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to figure out what that irritating ringing sound was. It pierced my sleeping brain until my eyes flew open and I scrambled for my phone.

  “Sullivan?” I croaked, licking my dry lips.

  “No, it’s Mom!” Her voice was high and a little hysterical, snapping me awake quickly.

  “Are you okay?” I rubbed my eyes, a sudden fear lurching through me.

  If those men who killed Gramps came for me, had they come for her to?

  As much as I wanted to focus on finding Caity, it was starting to dawn on me that this guy who sent his goons to collect me probably wouldn’t give up after killing Gramps.

  “Don’t be an idiot. Eric! You think these are the only two? There’ll be more men out to get you.”

  Dad’s words echoed in my brain.

  “No, I’m not okay. I need to see you, now.” Mom’s voice quivered.

  I chewed the inside of my cheek, trying not to be affected by her shaky tone. “Mom, is...is someone making you say that? Are you safe right now?”

  She pulled in a sharp breath. “Yes, I’m safe and I need to make sure that you are, too.”

  I closed my eyes, running a hand through my hair, not knowing what to believe. She could have been saying this stuff at gunpoint. I had no idea. All I knew was that I couldn’t turn my back on her. She was my mom and yeah, she had Cliff and everything, but I was her son. I was the only thing that had remained constant in her life and I couldn’t let her down now.

  I flicked the twisted covers off me and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Okay, I’m coming over.”

  “Don’t come to the house,” she snapped quickly. “I’m at the Super Eight on North Western Avenue.”

  “What are you doing at a motel?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get here.” Her voice was a trembling mess. I hung up and snatched my wallet, shoving it in my back pocket and grabbing my keys before sneaking out the door. As I descended the concrete steps to the driveway, I checked my watch. It was just before eight, and I didn’t even want to start guessing why Mom was holed up in a motel sounding scared out of her wits.

  Thankfully, it didn’t take long to find the Super Eight. I pulled my jeep into a free space and called Mom again. She told me the room number and I headed in the right direction, taking the stairs two at a time.

  I was midway through knocking when the door flew open and she pulled me inside, wrapping me in a tight, unrelenting hug.

  “I’m so glad you’re all right,” she cried against my shoulder. Her arms were trembling as she clung to me.

  “It’s okay, Mom.” I finally detached her from me. “I’m fine. Really.”

  She ran a perfectly manicured finger under her nose and I spun to fetch her a tissue. That’s when I saw Dad sitting on the bed.

  I froze, the reality of yesterday becoming all too real.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” My teeth clamped together, making the words hard to get out.

  Dad scoffed, rising from his place and snatching a Kleenex from the box. Storming past me, he handed it to Mom with a display of tenderness I hadn’t expected. She gave him a sweet smile, making me want to punch him all over again.

  I hated that we looked so alike. Why the hell did I have to be his son, his freaking replica!

  He turned to face me, and it was a small satisfaction to see the puffy bruise on his cheek. I was glad I had left my mark back at Gramps’s house.

  My jaw jutted to the side and I dropped my gaze to the floor, his intense stare making me feel a guilt I shouldn’t have to bear.

  “I spent the night with Cliff,” Mom started shakily, wiping her nose and dabbing at her red eyes. “His shift started at six so I decided to go home and shower and when I got there...” Her voice hitched. “There were men...inside my house.”

  My blood ran cold. “Did they—?”

  “They didn’t see me.” She shook her head. “Declan was waiting for me.” She pointed at her ex-husband. “He stopped me going in and brought me here.” Fresh tears bubbled over her lashes. “He told me about Gramps.” Her face crumpled and she pressed the sodden tissue to her eye.

  I backed up, grabbing the whole box and passing it to her. She hugged it to her chest, pulling a fresh one free and holding it under her nose. Dad lowered her gently onto a chair and crouched down beside her.

  I hated seeing his tender side. He wasn’t allowed to be kind! He was an asshole who left my mother, gambled away our savings and then ditched us! I wanted to grab the back of his collar and kick him out. She was my mother. I could deal with this shit. We’d been dealing with crap our whole lives and he’d hardly been there for any of it.

  My fingers bunched into tight fists as I fought the urge to lash out. Breaths shot through my nose.

&n
bsp; “Why?” I barked out the word. “Why were there men in Mom’s house this morning? Why did those guys kill Gramps? And who the fuck is Lucian Marchant!”

  I didn’t know how the name came back to me. It just popped into my head, a moment of clarity as I relived those thugs standing in Gramps’ living room, telling me I had to go with them.

  Dad rose from his spot with a heavy sigh, slumping onto the sofa and pressing his fingers into his eyes.

  “I screwed up, okay? I got myself into debt and started conning to get out of it.” He huffed and pulled what looked like a poker chip from his pocket. Tapping it against the arm of the couch, he began flicking it through his fingers.

  I crossed my arms, resisting the itch to start pacing.

  “I paid back everything I owed including the mortgage on our house. I was clear, but I left you guys nothing more and I wasn’t okay with that.”

  “Don’t make yourself out to be a saint,” I spat.

  “I’m not.” His calm expression unsettled me. “I have no excuses for my behavior. I was a loser and you both deserved better, but I wasn’t going to leave you high and dry. So, I decided to pull one last con.”

  “Marchant,” I muttered.

  “Yeah, I, ah...” He scratched his forehead, flicking his eyes to Mom before continuing. “I became Antonio Costa and got in good with Marchant’s wife. I managed to steal five hundred grand, which I figured was enough to keep you guys going. I thought everything was set, but then he found out. So...” He clicked his tongue and started tapping the chip against the chair again.

  “So...what?”

  Mom cleared her throat. “So, he put the money in a trust fund.” She glanced across at him, a small smiling touching her lips. “You know, I always thought it was you.”

  He winked at her.

  My face wrinkled with disgust as her cheeks bloomed red. “Wait, the trust fund? You told me that came from your parents.”

  She shrugged. “What else was I going to tell you? I didn’t know and I wasn’t about to turn my back on five hundred grand. I wasn’t ready to sell the house and we needed the money.”