High Stakes (26 page)

The threat in his voice makes me swallow hard, but he follows it with a tender kiss. I’m getting a whiplash from his constant mood swings, but it all feels so good that I don’t care.

“Promise me you won’t.”

He pulls back, looking at me with a mixture of aggression and lust.

“I—I promise.”

Fingers tap against my cheek again. “Promise what?”

“I promise I won’t run off.”

“Good girl.”

He bends over me, unzipping my fly. The tight jeans snag on my hips and I feel a small thrill as he yanks them harder. They fly off my legs. He pulls off the sexy black lingerie panties he bought for me and a shudder runs through his body. His hand cups my mound and his finger dips into me. It’s so slick that there’s hardly any resistance.

“You were made for me.”

He grabs my arms and pulls me upright like a doll, and I do the same thing to him. I grab him through his jeans and reach back to hold all of him. He wants to pick me up, but I undo his belt and unzip his jeans. He scoops me in his arms and lifts me up. We make it a few steps until my back slams against the wall, my legs locked around his waist. Then he adjusts himself and slams me against the wall again. His hardness throbs between my legs briefly before it stabs into me.

Clutching his head, I utter a high gasp. It’s so much more forceful. Every inch of him buries inside me as his wicked mouth makes hickeys on my chest. I squeeze around him as he pulses in and out, hurting my back.

“I love you,” I hiss in his ear. “Oh, God, Vince.”

“You fucking better.”

His length shoves into me again and my breath is knocked out of my lungs. It feels so incredible. Every day with him is always so unpredictable. I wrap my arms around his neck to bring him closer to me, so that our bodies are flush against each other. He begins a frenzied pace and he can’t contain his deep, male groans. He ruts me hard, his thick length impaling me over and over. The nerves inside me are lit like a fuse, and the pressure gathers together. It grows larger. It’s louder. My throat is raw with screaming his name.

His tongue shoves down my throat and then he moans while his lips are still attached to me. His cock jumps inside me, still buried, and there’s a flooding of warmth. My core contracts against him and pleasure bursts free, melting over all my limbs as Vince lowers me to the floor, kissing me.

He won’t let go. Vince scoops me off the floor with a devilish look and from the changing color of the walls; I realize he brought me into the bedroom. My lids droop as he lowers me gently into bed. He joins me, stripping the bed to slide under the sheets with me.

The ache inside me still burns as if I’m missing my heart. Vince reaches out and pulls me into his chest with a happy sigh. I burrow into his arms and collapse.

“Vince?”

His chest rumbles. “Hm?”

I trace a pattern on his chest as my eyes fight to stay open. I’m trying to work out what’s bothering me. Now that Vince promised he would help me, I feel better. Before him, I didn’t have any answers about what happened. Now he’s promising to find out who did it.

Sleep drags me into its clutches before I can think of anything to say. His chest rises and falls like the sea. I’m warm. I’m safe.

Fear billows in my chest as I walk into the stale room, surrounded by people in black. There aren’t very many people. It’s a wide-open room. Huge floral wreaths surround a long, brown coffin. I can see a tuft of daddy’s hair surrounded by the white, fluffy interior.

My knees shake and I grip Mom’s hand. People walk beside the coffin in quiet, murmuring succession. They occasionally reach inside to touch him.

I don’t want to touch him. I don’t even want to go near the coffin.

“Adriana, you’re embarrassing me.”

Mom’s fingers tighten around mine in a bruising grip.

“Please, Mom. I don’t want to!”

“You have to. It’ll be the last time you see him.”

No! I don’t want it to be the last time—I don’t want to see him like this. A loud, wailing cry shakes out of my throat, but nobody pays me any attention. She pushes me along the coffin. I see a powdered face. The lines in his face have vanished, but he’s frowning. I swallow hard when I see his chest rise and fall. I’m hallucinating. The slash on his throat is now a faint line, barely visible.

“Go on,” she urges me. “Say goodbye to your Daddy.”

He’s not my Daddy. He doesn’t look anything like him.

I reach out and touch the hands clasped over his chest. It’s like touching cold wood. I recoil immediately, and shame fills my chest.

The letter I wrote trembles in my hands, but I slip it inside, careful not to touch any more of him. All the things I never said often enough: I love you, Daddy. I’m sorry for being a brat sometimes. I didn’t mean to break that vase. I told you I didn’t want to go fishing, but I did. I only said it because Mom told me that girls shouldn’t do boyish things like that. I’m sorry.

A hysterical scream distracts me. Grandma, nearly 80 years old, screams in a language I can’t understand as she stands nearby. It scares me. Everyone cries after me when I run past the coffin and sprint towards the open doorway, out of that wretched place.

I tense upon waking up, my mind still filled with the funeral. I want to shove it out of my mind immediately. My palm spreads over the warm sheets, but Vince’s body is absent.

Footsteps clip over the hardwood floors and a scream catches in my throat.

Christ, it’s only him.

Vince walks into the bedroom, dressed into a charcoal grey suit. His hair looks damp, like he just took a shower. A smile spreads over his face as I drop the sheet from my body and get up out of bed.

“
Maddon
, I’ll never get used to this,” he says in a low hiss as I walk towards him, completely naked.

He’s all I’ve got.

I grab his tie as his arm curls around my waist. I pull his bemused face towards mine and kiss him softly, pulling back when he tries to deepen it. My hands move along his torso, around his hips to the bulge between his legs. I squeeze him.

He smirks and pulls back. “Bad girl. Trying to distract me when I need to leave. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.”

“You’re right, I’m trying to stop you. That doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

“Ah, Fuck.” His eyes blaze as he takes my head and kisses me long and hard. “I don’t deserve you.” Dark eyes flick to the door. “I still got to go, though.”

But it’s so dangerous for him to be out there. I don’t understand, and I know he won’t explain.

“Please be safe.”

“I will.” He kisses my cheek and gives me a smoldering look before he leaves the bedroom. I hear the front door open and close.

I get dressed slowly because there’s really nothing to do. I putz around for the rest of the day, watching TV, lounging on the couch.

My phone rings and I grab it absentmindedly, hoping that it’s Maria.

It’s not.

“
Adriana!
”

My mother’s frantic voice blasts through the tiny speaker. Jesus. What does she want now?

“Mom—what?”

“You need to get here right away. It’s an emergency.”

Bored, I change channels on the television. “You’ve done this before.”

“
Adriana, I’m not fucking kidding! I need you to come, now!”

I sit up straighter on the couch. She definitely sounds distressed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t tell you on the phone! Just get here now!”

“All right, Jesus.”

I hang up and twist my phone in my lap. I know I’m not supposed to leave, but there’s something seriously wrong at Mom’s house. My gut clenches as her voice rings in my ear.

Something’s not right.

I gather up my shit, snatching my purse, phone, wallet, and coat. Halfway through the door, I shrug on my coat and lock it. Sprinting across the street, I descend the stairs into the warm metro. Only then do I remember that I should probably text my fiancé where I’m going.

My fiancé.

It sounds so weird.

Halfway there, I convince myself that Mom probably left the stove on and all the crap cluttered nearby caught fire, or she needs me to change a light bulb. I check my phone again and the message is still unsent. Goddamn tunnels.

Despite my inner voice, I still walk a little more quickly when the doors open to the station. The cold nips at my nose as I ascend the staircase. It’s really bright outside. I’ve forgotten how long it’s been since I’ve actually seen the sky, and it’s a blinding white. A thick white blanket covers the sky, mirroring the bright patches of snow on Mom’s lawn. I try to peek in the darkened windows, but I don’t see anything.

Stamping down my nerves, I twist the door and shove it open, stumbling in the dark. My mother is down the hall, looking frightened but in one piece. Another flash of irritation heats my skin.

“She’s here,” she says.

She’s here? Who’s here?

Her eyes are not focused on me.

There’s a sound of a footstep, the scrape of a shoe on carpet, and I turn right into it. A man aims a gun at my forehead and I open my mouth—

“Don’t fucking scream.”

Chapter 12

“Surprise.” His lips pull into a grin, revealing two rows of stained teeth.

My heart pounds behind my ribs, my eyes wide as I seek out my mom, who has her hand covering her mouth. Vomit rises up my throat, but I swallow it down. It burns.

The grin becomes a grimace. “I ought to blow your fucking brains out.”

Mom stands behind him. “
No
, Richie!”

The metal digs in my temple and I flinch horribly.

“Don’t,” I tremble. “Please don’t kill me.”

I stare into his angry gaze—a face that looks so familiar. He’s a stocky man with jet-black hair and eyes, slicked back hair with a sharp widow’s peak. His thick black eyebrows are narrowed in an expression of violent contempt.

“Richie, don’t hurt her.”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” He turns his head sideways to address my mother.

“W—what’s going on?”

He turns back to me. “You’re going to call that cock-sucking piece of shit Cesare and tell him to come here. And if you tip him off in any way, I’ll kill you.”

Mom strides to his elbow and she grabs his arm. “Richie, that’s not what we discussed—ah!”

She screams as Richie gives her a vicious backhand that leaves her sprawling on the ground. The hateful eyes find me again, cutting deep.

Under my fear, a sliver of confusion rises to the surface. Not what we discussed?

“Just give me a fucking reason. I’ve dealt with your piece of shit family and your cunt of a mother for years.”

“I won’t let you hurt my daughter!” She rises to her feet.

“You want your fucking debts paid off? Then shut the fuck up!”

Her words ring through the apartment, cutting me down to my soul. I forget myself for a moment.

“What does he mean, your debts will be paid off?
What did you do
?”

Mom braces herself against the wall and gives me a miserable look. “Oh, Adriana.”

“Me and Vincent have a score to settle. My fucking brother is in the hospital.”

That’s why he looks so familiar. Silvio’s brother. They look exactly alike.

“The boss wants him dead, anyway. Not that I give a fuck about Tony and his fucking war.”

“Call him, Adriana.” My mother stands behind Richie, looking pale but determined.

A rush of hatred I’ve never felt before consumes my chest. “You were going to agree to let him kill my fiancé? For what?”

She winces. “You never even mentioned him to me. I didn’t know—”

“
Both of you shut the fuck up!
”

I jump at the sound of his voice. His gun digs in my skull with every syllable.

“Call him.”

“
No.
”

“CALL HIM OR I SWEAR I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

My eyes shut as he screams in my face, tears squeeze through my lids and run down my face.

“If you don’t, I will,” Mom says evenly.

Hatred bubbles in my chest as I reach in my purse.

“Put it on speakerphone. Do it!”

Helpless, I put it on speakerphone and press my finger over Vince’s name. I won’t lead him to his death. I’ll warn him, somehow.

What should I say?

His voice cracks on the speaker.

“
Finally, you answer your phone. I got your text. What’s the matter?
”

I swallow hard. “Can you come get me now?”

“Is something wrong? Your voice sounds a little—”

I don’t hear the rest, because Richie’s eyes bulge at me in warning. The gun knocks against my head again. “My throat’s just a little dry. Can you bring me a glass of water—I mean, a bottle?”

Silence.

Please remember it.
I squeeze my eyes and hope that Vince remembers that stupid phrase he taught me if anything happened during those games.

“
Sure,
” he says in a controlled voice. “
How many?
”

How many people?

“Just one, I think. One should do it.”

“Be there soon. I love you.”

“L—love you, too.”

Richie seizes my phone, looking confused and outraged. “What was that, you fucking whore? Some kind of code? What, you think I’m stupid?”

Shit!

“No! I—I was just—” My hands fly in the air as he cocks the gun. “Oh, God. I swear I was just trying to act normal!”

I can see by looking in Richie’s narrowed eyes that he isn’t buying it.

“C’mere you little cunt.”

He grabs me by the hair and drags me into the kitchen, the gun burrowing into the soft flesh of my neck.

“You’re going to sit down at the fucking table. If you move, I’ll kill you. Tommy!”

There’s another man in the house? My heart sinks as I collapse in the kitchen chair. I’ve fucking killed him. He won’t be expecting another gunman.