Snake Eyes (The Masks Series Book 3) (13 page)

Caitlyn

Quella was sound asleep when I slipped in the door. I gazed down at her, wondering what she’d think if she knew the lies I was making up about her. Kaplan calling me at Eric’s was so unexpected. How dare she disturb what could have been a perfect night? I should have listened to Eric and just ignored her damn call, but no, I had to answer it and get my ear chewed out. She ordered me back to my dorm...and stupid me, because I sucked at standing up to her, agreed. I left my super-hot,
naked
boyfriend in order to wake up in the same room as Quella, on the off-chance that she might say something meaningful to me.

This was ridiculous. It was tempting to call Kaplan back right then and tell her to shove it up her ass. I was going back to spend the night with my boyfriend, so that when I woke up in the morning I could be surrounded with more exciting wedding talk. Instead, I’d be waking up in Quella Town, listening to the world’s most self-absorbed eighteen-year-old talk about how she spent the previous day getting a mani-pedi and eating a quail egg salad for lunch.

I threw myself back on the bed, not even bothering to undress. I’d already done that tonight and if I’d had my way, I would have stayed naked next to the man I loved; the most patient guy ever to buy into my sack of lies. When I told him the truth, it was going to hurt him. He'd had so many people lie to him in the past, so he was super-sensitive on the whole
be honest with me
thing. I got that. I respected it. That's why I promised him I always would.

But I broke that promise. I'd dug myself into a hole of deception that could bury me alive. Once he got over his anger, he'd understand about the girls, but that still wouldn't change the fact that I'd broken his trust. I should have let him in from the start, but he would have wanted me off the case. It's not that he didn't care about those girls. He'd want them found just as badly as I did, but he would've fought for a way to ensure my safety throughout this case.

My well-being was paramount to him and although he loved the fact I put others first, it also drove him crazy. My compassion was one of the things he fell in love with, but it seemed to keep putting me in harm’s way, and Eric didn't cope well with that.

I covered my face with my hands, more tears threatening to break free.

What if he couldn't get over my lies? What if he didn’t forgive me?

What if Kaplan found out I'd told him? She was working way outside the boundaries of the law on this one, driven by something I hadn't been able to figure out yet. I could only imagine how livid she'd be and I had a sinking feeling that if I told Eric, he wouldn't be able to just sit by with his lips sealed while Kaplan sent me into the house of a human trafficker. He'd insist on going with me, and that could blow the whole operation.

Scrubbing my hands over my face, I gazed up at the ceiling and let the scenarios run through me, each one more brutal than the last: Eric storming away from me in outrage that I’d made him buy into one lie after another, Kaplan screaming at me for breaking the rules.

By the time my imagination was done, I was in tears again, my soul splintering like a smashed pane of glass.

I had to tell him.

I could risk Kaplan's wrath, but I couldn’t risk hurting Eric and potentially losing him.

Yeah. I nodded. Kaplan could shove it. My boyfriend was more important than her reputation. Besides, I’d make Eric see reason. Surely, he’d let me rescue these girls, and so what if he came with me? He could play undercover. He'd done it once before. Sure, it didn't go to plan, but he'd stopped Cameron from mauling me and Kaplan had still got her bad guys.

My chin jutted forward, determination rippling through me. It was settled. I was telling him and everything would work out fine. And then when it was over and those girls were safely back home, Eric and I could get engaged and be as happy as Dale and Nicole!

*****

Sleep was a joke and remained a joke for the rest of the week.

I barely got any these days, my nerves wound so tight I thought they might snap. I’d made my big decision to tell Eric the truth; now I just had to find the right time and place.

The noisy diner we were sitting in was definitely not it.

Quella played with the salt shaker, pouring little piles of salt onto the table and drawing patterns in it while we waited for our dinner orders to arrive. I glanced across at Eric and forced a smile, trying to pretend this awkward double date with Carlos wasn’t actually happening.

He’d called that morning inviting Quella out for a midweek date, and for some reason she couldn’t say no. She didn’t really want to go and had begged me to join her. I wasn’t willing to give up my evening with Eric, so I begged him to join me.

And here we were.

I tapped my finger on the table, my brain too foggy to even think of small talk. It was pretty damn painful. Eventually Quella sat back.

“The food is taking forever. Carlos, go and find out what’s wrong. I’m going to the bathroom.”

She nudged Carlos out of the way and he reluctantly walked up to the main counter.

As soon as Quella was out of earshot, Eric turned to me.

“Okay, so I’ve had an idea,” he spoke quickly. “I know you feel a huge responsibility to basically everyone, but it’s time you broke a few rules.”

My eyes narrowed.

“Hear me out. Quella has Carlos to look out for her now and you look exhausted. How about a trip to San Diego?”

I sat forward.

“It’d only be for the weekend. We’ll leave after class on Friday and then be back on Sunday afternoon. Gramps is so easy to stay with and would love the company.”

My nose wrinkled before I could stop it. “He wouldn’t mind?”

“I already called yesterday and asked him. Whether you say yes or no, I’m going down there. He sounded kind of lonely.”

I blinked slowly, trying to ignore the searing pain at the idea of Eric being out of town this weekend while I was stuck with Quella.

 I knew Kaplan wanted me to spend every waking minute with her, but what was one weekend? If Eric and I could sneak off to San Diego, it’d give me a chance to tell him somewhere private. Kaplan could live without me for two days.

But what about the girls? What if something important happened while I was gone?

What about my sanity? What about my relationship with Eric?

I nibbled my lip, rushing to think it through so I could respond. 

“Okay, yes.” I said the words before I changed my mind.

“Yes?”

“Yeah.” I nodded with a grin. “Yeah, it’ll be great.”

I still felt nervous. Kaplan was going to kill me for doing this, but she’d just have to understand. I needed a weekend off. I didn’t think that was too much to ask.

I called Kaplan that night, tapping my finger against the phone as I waited for her to answer.

“Kaplan,” she snapped.

“Yeah, just checking in.”

“Got anything for me?”

“Nothing new from today. Carlos seems to be keeping her on track, which is great for her, but bad for me. She doesn’t talk as much when he’s around all the time and she really needs to get a little plastered to loosen that tongue of hers.”

“Okay, well make that happen. Take her out this weekend. Get her piss-drunk and talking.”

“Actually, this weekend, I was wondering—”

“I’m not interested in your ideas. I just want you to do your job.”

“I was kind of hoping—”

“Get me something new by Sunday afternoon. I don’t care what you have to do.”

“I’m thinking—”

“Don’t think, just do it.”

She hung up before she could interrupt me again.

I glared at my phone, wanting to scream at it, throw it to the ground, then grind my heel into that damn thing. Nobody could piss me off like that woman could.

Crossing my arms with a huff, I looked at the night sky, hating that I’d have to sacrifice my weekend away just to please that woman.

But I wouldn’t please her. I’d do exactly what she’d ask me to and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“Screw you,” I muttered at the phone.

Quella could get drunk
next
weekend. Tomorrow night, I was going away with my boyfriend!

Eric

Caity hadn’t stopped smiling since we got into the car. It was like something had been set free inside her and the further we drove from campus, the more relaxed she became. Breathing in through her nose, she let out a relaxed sigh and leaned her head back against the headrest. Her arm was out the open car window, her fingers fluttering through the breeze as we drove down to San Diego. The sun was setting, bathing her in amber light. She looked like an angel.

To say it was a relief to have my girlfriend back was an understatement. I hadn’t realized how badly she needed the break. I was hoping this weekend I could convince Caity that she really didn't have to shoulder the burden of Quella anymore. It was getting too much and she needed to back off, for her own sake.

We were about twenty minutes out from Gramps’s house. It always felt like home when I walked in the door, and I was looking forward to that feeling again. That man had saved my life. I didn’t know what I’d do without him and every time I came to visit, I always left feeling re-energized.

I reached over and squeezed Caity’s knee. Her smile was golden as she turned to look at me.

“Nearly there.”

“I know.” She dropped her feet off the dashboard and sat up. “You going night surfing tonight?” She ran her fingers up my arm. “Or are you going to keep me company instead?”

She wiggled her eyebrows, making me chuckle. It’d be impossible to resist her. I’d just have to go surfing in the morning.

Caity’s phone dinged. She reached for her bag, still grinning until she pulled it out and read the screen. Her expression changed instantly, her lips twitching before pressing into a thin line.

“Everything okay?” I stole a glance at her.

Her fingers hovered over the screen before she let out a sigh and sent a quick text. “Yeah, everything's fine.”

It didn’t sound fine.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t see who she was replying to, or what she had written, but I could tell it was a very short text. When she was done, she pressed the top button on her phone and held it down, actually turning the phone off.

Throwing it into her bag, she crossed her arms and slumped back against the seat.

“Quella?” I asked.

“Not this weekend. I just can’t do it.” She kept her eyes out the window, not looking at me.

“Then turning off your phone was probably the best idea.”

She turned back to me, her lips tipping into a grin. “It was, wasn’t it?” With a small giggle, she shuffled over to me, sliding her arm behind my neck and kissing my cheek. “Thank you for this,” she whispered in my ear before resting her head against my shoulder.

I kept my eyes on the road, glad she couldn’t see my frown. I should be happy that I was taking her away and making her feel better, but the grip she had on my shoulder told me this wasn’t over.

Clenching the wheel, I decided that all I could do was give her the best weekend I could, remind her what it was like to not be burdened by someone else’s problems and then when we drove back on Sunday, I could hopefully convince her to let this Quella thing go and move in with me.

*****

Gramps appeared in the doorway as I turned off the engine and flicked off the lights. His broad grin was highlighted by the porch light, his blue eyes wrinkling at the corners as he spread his arms wide and pulled Caity into a cuddle.

He lifted her off the ground with ease before dropping her back down and wrapping me in a hug, pounding my back twice like he always did. For a guy in his seventies, he was still pretty damn strong and capable. I couldn’t imagine anything stopping him. He was just as tall as I was, with a broad chest and hardy muscles from years in the military. He’d spent the last fifteen of his career training new Marines at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot in San Diego, before he retired to come save my ass. He could be a hard man, but I didn’t know anyone who didn’t respect him.

“Welcome home.” He squeezed my shoulders before taking Caity's hand. "Come on in, I've got dinner all ready."

Caity looked at me with an adorable grin before following him.

In spite of his tough exterior, when it came to the ladies, my Gramps was all sweetness and charm. I shook my head with a grin, wondering how it was possible that he’d never re-married after Grandma died. I’d never met her, she’d passed away before I was born, but pictures still hung all over the house. He must have loved her more than anything.

I watched Caity skip up the stairs ahead of me, her long curls bouncing on her back, and I understood that feeling. I wasn’t sure I could ever move on from a girl like Caity and I hoped I never had to.

We bustled into the small living area and I dumped our bags on the wooden floor. Like it always did, the large photo my father had taken slapped me in the face. I turned my back on it and strained to hear the sound I lived for down here. A smile lit my lips as the faint rolling and crashing of waves wafted in the front door.

Gramps had owned this small house near Blacks Beach for over fifty years. Houses had been torn down around him, replaced with big mansions, but he’d stood strong, maintained his little place and kept a hold of the sweetest spot in San Diego.

I, for one, was very grateful.

Just across the road and down the little slope was one of the best surf beaches in the area.

Jogging back out to the car, I grabbed the boards off the roof and tucked them under my arm, checking the car was locked. Climbing up the three short steps, I leaned them against the wall of the closed porch area before heading inside. Caity was already seated at the table and grabbing a bread roll out of the basket.

“Sounds good to me.” She smiled, ripping off a piece of bread and popping it into her mouth.

“What sounds good?” I sat down beside her.

“Poker with Gramps after dinner.” She winked at me then mouthed, “No cheating; I promise.”

I chuckled, pecking her lips and reaching for the salad bowl Gramps held out to me.

The meal passed with easy chatter. Gramps could make a killer spaghetti and meatballs. We sipped our Cokes as we laughed at another of his military training stories and that look on Caity’s face was back...the relaxed, no-cares-in-the-world one that I wanted her to live with permanently.

Gramps stood from his seat, clearing the plates. Caity jumped up to help him.

“Let me. You cooked.” She kissed his cheek and took the plates from him.

Once she was in the kitchen, he leaned over the table and whispered, “That’s a catch right there. Don’t you ever let her go, boy.”

“Not planning on it.” I grinned.

He slapped me on the shoulder with a chuckle.

“Why don’t you go grab the chips and we’ll get started.”

I did as I was told and thirty minutes later was sitting at the table with two cards in my hand, clinking my chips together. We were playing Texas Hold ‘Em...a little more complicated than the five-card draw, but Caity wanted to get her head around it.

“Okay, so you’ve dealt the flop and now the turn, so there’s another round of betting now?” Caity asked Gramps.

“Yes, you can either fold, raise, check or call to match Eric’s bet.” He nodded.

Caity nibbled her lip, eyeing the cards in her hand.

“Remember now, you still have the river to go, so there’s one more chance of bettering your hand and one more round of betting before you have to show us anything. If your cards are really bad, get out now before you lose more money.”

“But you told me aggressive players do better.”

“No, I told you to be a better, not a caller, but I also said wait on the good cards and throw the bad ones away.”

I grinned as I watched my two favorite people talking. Gramps had a Southern lilt to his voice, having been raised on a farm in Kentucky. In spite of the fact he’d spent most of his life living in California, he’d never lost it and I loved that about him. Caity, in contrast, was a California beach bunny through and through and I most definitely loved that about her.

She nodded, a large curl dropping over her shoulder as she leaned forward and gazed at the four upturned cards in the middle of the table.

“Keep that poker face, girl. You don’t want to give anything away now.”

Her lips tipped up at the corners, her blue gaze brushing mine before dropping back to the tabletop.

“Okay,” she nodded, looking at me. “I’ll call and raise you two dollars.” She threw four chips onto the table.

My eyebrows rose and she gave me an innocent blink, her lips still fighting a smile. I narrowed my eyes at her and she started giggling, squeezing her eyes shut.

I tapped her foot under the table and shook my head. She’d said no cheating, the little deviant.

“Fold.” I placed my cards on the table, annoyed that I couldn’t get my bluff past her. I should have known; she probably hadn’t even meant to read me, but my mask would have slipped away and she’d probably spotted something before pulling it back into place.

Gramps frowned between us before calling Caity’s bet.

He then burned the top card by placing it on the table, face down, before dealing the river card. I gazed at the five upturned cards, glad I’d folded. After three rounds, I was already down on chips, which is why I’d decided to go for the bluff, but I hadn’t taken into account the Caity Factor.

I glanced at her pile, wanting to be mad at her for cheating, but not quite making it. She was just too damn cute and adorable and I secretly loved that she kicked ass at this game...especially when she beat jerks like her brother, Toby.

In the end, Gramps won the round with two pair, queen high. Caity had two pair, tens high. With a good-natured groan, she threw her cards down as Gramps scraped the pot towards him.

“Oh, come now, this is the first hand you've lost, little lady.”

She chuckled. “I’m happy for you, honestly I am.” She winked and then smiled at me.

“I tell you, you got the gift.” Gramps shook his head with a grin.

Caity’s face blanched while my back pinged straight in the chair.

She cleared her throat. “What do you mean, Clayton?”

He shrugged, his eyes still on the chips he was staking. “Poker comes natural to some. Now, you take Eric’s daddy; he was one mean poker player.” He shook his head, his eyes going distant as if watching a memory. “That boy had the most uncanny luck...or maybe it was just skill, I don’t know, but I hardly ever beat the kid.”

I pressed my elbows into the table.

“Yeah, a lot of good it did him,” I mumbled, sharp memories attacking me. One in particular dug in deep, feeling like a saber through the gullet.

Gramps’s lips formed a tight line the way they always did when his son was insulted. It was the only thing we didn’t see eye-to-eye on, which is why we never really talked about Declan Shore.

To me, he was the biggest asshole on the planet with a father who wanted to forgive him and a son who wanted to hate him for all eternity.

“You be careful, son. He wasn’t all bad,” Gramps muttered.

“He was hardly good.”

Gramps slammed the table. “Boy, do not ruin tonight. I know you've got your issues, but you don’t bad-mouth my son around me.”

I made two fists with my hands, fighting the urge to throw back my chair and storm from the room. Gramps had hung a punching bag in the garage for occasions like this. It’d been well used in the past, but I wasn’t going to lower myself to it tonight. Not with Caity staring at me with those beautiful eyes of hers.

Pressing my lips together, I slumped back in my seat.

I should have kept my dumb mouth shut. Never engage in battle with a decorated Marine; you’d always lose. But I couldn’t help it. He’d just compared my pure, sweet Caity to a guy who had left his eight-year-old son standing out in the rain after school one day for nearly two hours. I knew I could have walked home, but my loyal soul hadn’t wanted to give up on the man I’d adored. It’d been dark by the time he finally arrived with a puffy eye and a cut lip.

I’d gotten into his car, my anger being overridden by my fear.

“What happened, Dad?”

He gazed out the windshield with a sigh before starting up the engine. “Know when to hold ‘em, buddy.”

That’s all he’d said and I hadn’t figured out what he’d meant until three years later when I heard that Kenny Rogers song, ‘The Gambler’. Mom had been singing along to it in her car and I’d listened intently until it had finished, flicking off the radio and demanding she tell me what that country guy was singing about.

It’d broken my heart, figuring out that my dad had left me in the rain in order to gamble his money away on a card game. Thanks to him, I’d scored myself a really bad cold, which turned into bronchitis. I’d been on bed rest for over a week, which for an active eight-year-old felt like an eternity.

My adoration for him had started to stumble and trip by that stage, but my stupid self had clung tight for a few more years. It wasn’t until he left me hanging outside Dodger Stadium for an entire day that I really gave up on him. He never showed, never called and I hadn’t heard from him or seen him since. His promise to turn up with the tickets and spend the day together had been the final one he’d broken, and I couldn’t forgive him anymore. He’d used up all his chances and I no longer cared where he was...or even if he were alive.