Poker Face (The Masks Series Book 4) (11 page)

Caitlyn

Santiago won the poker game and walked away from the table with close to eight hundred thousand dollars. It was totally mind-blowing and utterly ridiculous. Like the man needed more money.

Pinching my elbow, he slowed my step towards the exit and whispered in my ear. “Well done, my dear. You passed another test.”

I cringed. This whole testing thing sucked!

“I must stay for more business. Gabriel will escort you back to the hotel.”

I kept my eyes downcast and gave him a quick nod, trying to hide my glee. Was this my chance?

Gabriel was no doubt our driver and his kind smiles were real. Maybe he would help me, drop me off on some deserted road. I didn’t care if my feet were shredded walking to a gas station. I’d take it if it meant calling Eric. It didn’t matter that it was late at night; he’d drop everything to come and get me, I knew he would. Even if he was mad at me for my deception, that wouldn’t matter. He was an honorable man, he—

“Miss Carlotta?” Gabriel held the door for me.

I jerked out of my reverie and gave him a smile. “Thank you.” I slid into the car, kicking off my shoes and tucking my dress beneath my legs. It would be hard to run in this thing, but I’d make it work somehow.

Nibbling my lip, I tried to formulate my persuasive argument as Gabriel pulled away from the house. He lowered the screen between the driver’s side and the back.

“I am to take you straight back to the hotel and then return for Mr. Gomez. It should be about a twenty-minute trip.”

“Okay.” I nodded, shuffling from my seat and moving closer to the front of the limo so I could chat to him.

My move surprised him. His brow wrinkled as his eyes darted back to the road.

“It’s Gabriel, right?”

“
Sí
.”

“Where are you from?”

He hesitated, thrown by my friendliness.

“Mexico originally.”

“How long have you been States-side?”

“Since I was sixteen, about eight years now.”

“How long have you worked for Santiago?”

He swallowed.

“Don’t worry, this conversation isn’t going anywhere. You just seem nice.” I sighed, leaning my head against the interior window frame. “And I could do with a little nice.”

His smile was filled with sympathy, his masked face showing the same as what lay beneath.

“You do not need to fear
Señor
Gomez. If you stay on his good side, he’ll treat you well.”

I nodded.

“It’s not Santiago I fear. It’s Bruno. He wants me.” I shivered.

Gabriel’s face crested with sympathy.

“Santiago will not hesitate to give me to him if I make a mistake. It’s a lot of pressure.”

He nodded, smashing his lips together and giving me nothing. I peeled back a few layers, looking for something I could play on. I whistled through quiet determination, a tremor of fear, a resolute desire to stay in his current station.

Dammit!

I didn’t want resolute! I needed resentment, some low-lying anger or sense of injustice that I could play on.

Nibbling my lip, I flicked my eyes away from him, a desperate frustration skittering through me.

The limo slowed, I didn’t know what for, but I took my chance. Lurching for the door, I yanked on the handle and shouldered it open, falling onto the road and rolling a couple of times. Asphalt tore at my shoulder, scraping and bruising my exposed skin. The fine fabric on the dress shredded, leaving a gaping slit down my thigh. I scrambled to my feet, stubbing my big toe in the process. My knee was a bloody mess, road burn taking over half my shin, but I pressed on, ignoring the pain in a frantic attempt to get away. It was impossible to see in the desert darkness and I had no idea which way to go. I glanced over my shoulder toward the road.

The limo screeched to a stop, its brake lights glowing a sharp red. Letting out a gasp, I surged forward, stumbling over a rough shrub that nipped at my skin. I ate a mouthful of dust, coughing and hacking as I pushed myself back up and tried to melt into the darkness. My elbows stung from fresh grazes but I pushed on, pumping my arms and attempting a hobbling run that lacked majorly in speed.

I could hear the footsteps gaining on me quickly and knew it was futile, but I sprinted forward anyway, only to be tackled a few yards later. Gabriel’s weight landed on me, knocking the air from my lungs. I gasped, fighting for oxygen as he wrenched my arm and pulled me to stand beside him.

“You crazy? Don’t run!”

“Please let me go! Just let me go!”

“I can’t do that! If I don’t return you to the hotel, he’ll have my head!”

“We could both leave! No one would know, and we could just disappear!”

I couldn’t see his face properly in the dim light but he stopped, gazing down at me like a breathing shadow.

“I can’t do that.” His voice was soft, like a wisp of air hitting my face and making me want to cry.

He held my arm and walked me back to the limo, slowing his pace when he could see I was struggling. My lips were caked with dry dust, every pointy bit on my body stung with fury and the delicate dress was hanging off me by bare threads. I hissed and winced my way back to the car. When Gabriel opened the door for me, he noted the gaping holes in my dress and shrugged out of his jacket.

“Here.” Placing it around my shoulders, he made sure it was nestled around me before gently guiding me into the front passenger seat. “I’m going around to the driver’s door now. Please, don’t run.” He held up his hands and I gave him a minimal nod.

I knew it’d been foolish, but I’d had to take a chance. Gabriel was actually being really nice about it.

“Does he pay you?” I asked as the limo pulled back onto the road and made for the bright lights of Vegas.

“I earn what I need.”

“So, you don’t stay for the money then.” I wiped my mouth with a shaky finger, grimacing when I realized I’d re-opened my split lip.

His face told me no. I leaned my head against the headrest and studied his profile. “Why do you stay?”

“I can’t leave.” The muscles in his face grew tight.

“Why?”

“There are people I can’t...leave,” he whispered.

I wanted to probe for more, but he kept talking.

“You mustn’t run.” He looked at me. “Do you understand? You have to stay on Santiago’s good side. If you don’t, Bruno will be the least of your worries.”

He meant every word. A dark horror slashed through me. How could Bruno be the
least
of my worries?

“Santiago is unpredictable. He’ll turn his back on his most loyal employees without even blinking an eye.”

Closing my eyes, I realigned my weary vision, staring back at Gabriel’s masked appearance. His mouth was turned down at the sides, his expression still tight. I pulled his mask off and saw an amplified version that just grew stronger with each layer.

“What did he do to you?”

“Not me.” He shook his head. “My brother.”

I held my breath, wondering if I’d get more. Gabriel glanced at me and then sighed.

“He wasn’t a good man, I’m not defending him. Santiago caught him beating a girl to death. She didn’t do something the way he wanted and my brother had a temper, but...” Gabriel swallowed. “I don’t know if he deserved to be buried alive.”

I gasped. “Where?”

“Out in the desert. There’s a shack where people are taken and...”

Gabriel’s grave look made my legs tingle...and not in that happy
Christmas is coming
kind of way.

“You don’t want to go to the shack, Carlotta. Bad things happen there.”

I covered my quivering lips with my fingers and turned away from Gabriel’s heartbreaking expression. His warning was all too clear. A shack in the desert. The very idea was enough to paralyze me.

I pictured Santiago dragging me out there, burying me alive and walking away from my pleas for mercy. I’d never be found. I’d be dry bones in a dusty desert.

Bones in a desert.

Why did that feel familiar?

There were no words left to say after that. Gabriel’s warning was clear. I spent the rest of the silent trip trying to ignore my stings and burning skin while telling my brain to calm the hell down. As long as Gabriel said nothing to Santiago about my attempted escape, I was safe for another night.

“You’re not going to tell him, are you?”

Gabriel said nothing as he pulled into the underground parking lot of the Palacio del Diablo. I could see beneath his mask that he wasn’t about to say a word and I could have wept with relief.

Opening my door, he helped me out and I limped towards the elevator. He didn’t take me to the penthouse, instead stopping at the floor below. We shuffled down the corridor, his eyes darting around me. I frowned, wondering where he was sneaking me to.

We stopped outside the second to last door and he pressed his fingers to his lips. I nodded, folding my arms across my chest as he knocked lightly.

A minute later, the door squeaked open and Monique’s head popped into view. She took one look at me and gasped before casting her eyes back to Gabriel. They shared a moment. Unmasked, it was beautiful and I knew instantly that she was the reason Gabriel stayed.

“We need to get her cleaned up before Bruno sees her,” Gabriel whispered.

Monique nodded, darting back into her room and returning a few moments later with a sweater thrown over her pajamas.

“I’m sorry,
señorita
, but I need my jacket.” Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck.

“Of course.” I slipped it off my shoulders and wrapped my arms around myself. Monique gifted Gabriel another precious smile before putting her hand on my back and leading me to an unmarked stairwell. I stopped her before we went through and turned back to the departing driver.

“Gabriel.”

He turned.

“Thank you.”

His smile was sweet as he nodded at me before turning back for the elevator, dusting off his pants as he went.

Monique took my hand and led me up one floor. Poking her head through, she snuck me into the penthouse via the servant’s entrance. No one spotted us going to my room. Monique locked the doors behind me and pulled me into the bathroom.

“Take that off.” She started running a bath, wincing when my dress slid to the floor, revealing all my escape wounds. Her smile and soft chuckle were sweet. “You really are a fool.”

“I know.” I shrugged, my eyes welling with tears.

She rubbed my arm gently. “Here, soak in this for a while. It will sting, but we need to get the dirt out of your wounds. I’ll go and inform Sal you’ve returned, and get the first-aid kit. We can’t have Santiago seeing any of these wounds, so we’ll have to dress you creatively for the next few days.”

My head bobbed shakily.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

She crept from the room and I slid into the bath, hissing softly as the hot water hit my beat-up skin.

Laying my head back against the towel Monique had rolled for me, I closed my eyes and felt the adrenaline oozing from my body. It hurt. It felt like a ton of bricks was being poured on top of me.

The shack.

Bones in the desert.

It was all terrifying.

It was
real
.

As nice as Monique was, I didn’t want her patching up my wounds tonight. I wanted Eric. I wanted his arms around me, his kisses that fueled me with strength and security. I wanted him to swoop in and rescue me from this nightmare.

I didn’t want to end up like Gabriel’s brother.

Bones in the desert.

I didn’t want to become Monique and accept the idea of someone owning me.

I didn’t want to be handed over to Bruno or sold, hired out the way she was by that creep Marchant.

Lucian Marchant.

My eyes flew open.

Holy shit!

Lucian Marchant!

The water surged in the tub and splashed over the side as I sat up, the name suddenly ringing clear in my brain.

Lucian Marchant. Bones in the desert. Eric’s dad.

“Eric.” Tears swarmed my vision.

The man I’d been trying to protect my boyfriend from. The one Kaplan had used against me. He lived in Vegas. He’d had dealings with Santiago.

My breaths were a whisper of air, fast and shallow as my nightmare grew just a little worse.

Eric couldn’t come here. If that Marchant guy spotted him, even from a distance, he’d know. The similarities between Eric and his father were uncanny. I couldn’t hope for my boyfriend to find me anymore. If anything, I had to hope he wouldn’t!

Slumping back against the edge of the tub, I wiped the drips from my face and stared at the ceiling. My only chance now was Kaplan finding me.

The tears escaped, dribbling down to my chin like slow, aching raindrops.

That didn’t seem much of a chance.

The utter dismay I’d been trying to fight off took hold of me, swarming through my body in fierce waves that made my muscles tremble. The only word I could utter in broken repetition as I quietly mourned was, “Eric.”

Eric

It was the longest, most torturous weekend in the history of man. Holed up in a motel room with my father whose paranoid security was driving me to the edge of insanity was not a good way to go. Worse yet, Caity hadn’t returned on Sunday night like everyone was hoping she would. I knew it was a pipe dream. Dad and I had waited outside her dorm all afternoon and evening, watching students return from their Thanksgiving break, but not my Caity...and no Quella, either.

I tried to call Rhodes that night, but his phone was off. Instead, I’d left a terse message that had Dad’s eyebrows skyrocketing north before he snickered at me and shook his head.

Time had stood still after that and Monday had crawled.

I’d paced.

I’d flicked through TV channels until the television threatened to short circuit.

I’d gone to the motel pool and in spite of the crisp water, swum until I thought my lungs might burst.

I was a caged tiger, ravenous for resolution, yet none was on the horizon.

My only respite was sleep, which only came in patches throughout the night. I took what I could get, sleeping during the day and trying to wake up later in the mornings just to shorten the torturous light hours.

The phone beside my bed hummed and started ringing.

I groaned, irritated at being woken from a rare, dreamless sleep.

“Hello,” I mumbled, my eyes still closed.

“Where are you? I’ve got something and we need to talk.”

I lurched from the bed, Rhodes’s voice powering through me like an electric current. I rattled off the address and slapped the phone back onto the bedside table.

“Who was that?” Dad came out from the bathroom, towel-drying his hair.

“Rhodes.” I scrambled into my pants and zipped them up, snatching my watch off the bedside table and blinking at the time: 3:15 p.m.

“He’s coming here.”

“You gave out our address?”

“What was I supposed to do? He wanted to talk face-to-face.”

“Then we meet him somewhere open and safe!”

“Dad, just drop it.” I flicked my hand at him. “He’s going to be here.”

“Call him back and tell him—”

There was a knock at the door. We both looked at each other. Dad snatched the gun off the table and flicked off the safety, walking to the door and peering through the peephole. His shoulders sagged and he unbolted the lock.

“That was quick,” he muttered as Rhodes stepped into the room.

“I knew you lived in Pacific Palisades. I was on my way there,” Rhodes shrugged.

I ignored Dad’s dark, suspicious look and threw on my t-shirt as Rhodes took a seat at the table. We joined him and leaned against the wood, our anxious expressions identical.

“My contact came through.” Rhodes placed his phone on the table. “On Thursday, one of his poker buddies said he saw Miguel Vera with a woman matching Caity’s description.”

“Where?”

“At a high-class poker game held in a very exclusive resort about an hour's drive from Mendez's place.”

“What was she doing there?”

“Vera was treating her like his girlfriend.”

I closed my eyes, my brain buzzing so loudly I nearly missed the next part.

“...Carlotta,” Rhodes finished.

“What was that?”

“He called her Carlotta and if my sources are right, there was a woman at a different poker game on Friday night with the same name. I don’t know who she was with or if it’s the same girl. I’m waiting on more details, but it gives me hope that Caity’s alive.”

I nodded, trying to wrap my brain around the positives of that statement and not the torturous truth of what Caity might be forced to do as a slave.

Slave! Holy shit, how was this real?

I shook my head and reined myself in. “Okay, so that first game was on Thursday, right? I thought she was at the house then?”

“She was supposed to be, but we lost contact, remember?”

My glare was dark. He dropped his gaze to avoid it and kept talking. “He must have snuck her out through the secret entrance.”

“What secret entrance?” Dad frowned.

“Yeah, I found that out after I left our meeting in Yuma.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “They discovered a hidden passage in Quella’s bedroom. It led down to a basement garage, which had a tunnel that popped out further from the house. It was a very well-concealed exit and entry point. We didn’t even know there was a road leading out from that side of the house.”

“Shit!” I thumped the table.

“I know.” Rhodes nodded, looking grim. “I’m guessing that’s how he got her out. Mendez isn’t saying shit and Kaplan’s pretty sure he doesn’t know anything about it.”

“Oh, so she’s playing ball now?”

“Nope.” Rhodes sighed. “And if she finds out I’m telling you any of this, she’s going to kill me. As far as anyone’s concerned, the last time Kaplan spoke to Caitlyn Davis was last year, during the UCLA sting operation.”

I was tempted to shout
bitch
, but didn’t want to waste the air. That woman was un-freaking-believable!

“So, did your contact say anything else?”

“Yes, and this is the good part, sort of.” Rhodes tipped his head with a half-shrug.

“Sort of?”

“Vera won big at that Thursday poker game.”

“Probably because Caity was helping him.”

“That’s what I’m guessing. Anyway, someone must have noticed, because at the end of the game Vera was pulled aside by a man.”

“Who?” Dad tapped his poker chip on the table.

“If I’m getting this straight, it was Bruno Gomez.”

Dad and I glanced at each other before looking back at Rhodes and shaking our heads.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and squeezed his chin. “Bruno is the nephew of Santiago Gomez. He’s a big-time businessman in Vegas, just opened up a grand casino on the Strip. Prime location.”

“Are you talking about Palacio del Diablo?” Dad asked.

“That’s the one.”

Dad whistled. “That place is...” he raised his eyebrows. “Off the charts.”

“So I’ve heard.” Rhodes’s grim expression was making me nervous. He looked at me, a pained expression lingering in his eyes. “The guy’s rich, but his money’s not clean. The Feds have been keeping an eye on him, but haven’t found anything solid yet. We’ll need to tread carefully. The man has underground connections and with us working off the grid, we don’t want to end up as vulture food in the desert. You get me?”

I nodded, trying to look confident, but no doubt failing.

“So, where do you think Caity is?”

“I really don’t know.” Rhodes shrugged. “She could still be with Vera, or he may have sold her to Bruno...or someone else.”

I whispered a curse, despising the idea of someone treating Caity like a commodity. Sold like some Barbie doll to be undressed and played with.

I shuddered.

“Hey, we have to assume she’s been sold for her sight, no other reason.” I glanced up at Rhodes’s reassurances, but my fear was mirrored in his gaze. His words did nothing to calm me.

“So, what’s the plan?” I gritted out. “We find this Bruno guy and see if he can lead us to Miguel or tell us who has Caity now?”

“It’s ballsy, but I think it’s our only option right now. We could maybe pose as buyers, I’m still working that part out, but we need to get to Vegas if we’re going to find out more.”

I nodded, rising from my chair and getting ready to move.

Dad slapped his hand around my wrist. “You’re not going to Vegas.”

I wrenched my arm free. “Yeah, I am.”

“That’s Marchant’s stomping ground. Like hell I’m going to let you go there. It’d be like driving straight into the lion’s den.”

“I don’t care. If there’s even a chance Caity’s there, I gotta go.”

“There’s no guarantee that she will be.” Dad stood to eyeball me. I was only a quarter-inch taller so it wasn’t hard for him to get right in my face. “You can’t take a risk this big.”

“You said I had to get out of town. This is the perfect excuse.”

“I didn’t mean Vegas!” He threw his hands wide.

“Dad, I’m going.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I can go.” Rhodes stood. “Keep you posted on what I find.”

“Like hell! I’m not leaving you to do this thing on your own. My girl’s waiting for me to find her and I’m not going to let her down.” I turned back to Dad, my eyes on fire with a stubborn determination he’d never be able to break through. “I’m going. You can either come with me and watch my back or you can fly your ass to New Zealand. I really don’t care.”

Discussion over, I charged through the motel room, gathering up my stuff. Dad glared at me for a good five minutes before finally relenting with a heavy sigh and a string of mumbled curses.

It took us twenty minutes to pack up and get ready. Rhodes wanted to take his car, so we followed behind in my jeep. The tension in the vehicle was palpable and I did nothing to ease it. Dad could be as mad as he wanted to. I wasn’t changing my mind.

Like I gave a shit about my safety when Caity was suffering at the hands of some underground scum.

Getting her out was all that mattered to me. I didn’t care what it cost me. She was worth any risk.