Poker Face (The Masks Series Book 4) (15 page)

Caitlyn

Sal’s face was thunderous when I stepped out of the bathroom. I ripped off his mask and saw a red-cheeked man with wide eyes, a piqued fear skimming beneath the surface of his first mask. He was humiliated that I made him wait outside the ladies’ washroom for so long. Another layer later and I could easily see the thought of having to tell Santiago that I had been up to something made his belly quake. He was worried for both my wellbeing...and his.

I touched his arm and gave him a grateful smile, which he frowned at. His eyes darted awkwardly to the side.

“Sorry about that, Sal.” I touched my stomach, giving him an embarrassed grimace. “I don’t know what I ate last night, but it wasn’t pretty.”

Clearing his throat, he straightened up, his cheeks turning an even darker shade of crimson. He snatched my elbow and dragged me back to the floor. “Let’s get on with it.”

The rest of the day flew by. I never saw Eric leave the casino. I assumed he did, because every time I glanced over my shoulder to find him, he wasn’t there. It was a relief to know he’d made it out, but another part of me grieved the loss. As the day wore on and I was taken from the casino floor and locked back in my tower, I started to wonder if the whole bathroom incident had just been an apparition—just my imagination working overtime to help me survive.

By two o’clock in the afternoon, I was convinced I was going crazy. By three I was floating on the relief that no, it had happened and somewhere outside of the Devil’s Palace, plans were being made to swoop in and rescue me.

Would it be tonight?

Would Rhodes come in backed up with a dozen agents, guns blazing and arrest warrants being fired out just as fast?

Or maybe it’d be a stealth operation - silent ninjas in the night bundling me up and carrying me away down some fire escape.

Or maybe they’d decide it was too impossible. Santiago was a powerful man. Rhodes wouldn’t want to take him on. He could get in huge trouble! I wasn’t worth it!

At four thirty-five, I was back to insanity.

It was a nutty day, to say the very least.

When Monique burst into my room at five, I’d bitten my nails down to nubs. She took my hands with a small frown and tutted. “That will not do.”

Pulling me up, she dragged me out of the room and down a few floors to a beauty salon with Sal once again following in our wake. Poor guy, he did not look impressed.

Plonking me in a chair, Monique kept her hands on my shoulders as she spoke over my head to the nail technician.

“False, blood red, rounded edge.”

I looked up to give her a frown. As if I’d ever wear blood red nails, but Monique was already spinning away. The beautician gave me a tight smile and dipped my chomped-up nails into a bowl of sweet-smelling liquid.

An hour later, I was collected by Sal and returned to my room where I found Monique laying out different dresses, all black, all skimpy and all so not me I actually laughed when I approached the bed.

Picking up the sheer black material of the third dress, I shook my head. “He can’t be serious.” I lifted my hands. “Blood red nails? Monique, they look awful! It’s taking every ounce of willpower I possess not to rip them off my fingers.”

She gave me a sad smile and muttered, “Orders are orders.”

My hand dropped to my side, my eyes narrowing as I studied her.

She seemed edgy, which sent my erratic brain into overdrive. Her mask fell off easily to show me her fear, which somehow felt exaggerated in my tenuous state. “What’s the matter?”

I was more scared for me than her. I knew that sounded selfish, but I could sense her fear was not an inward turmoil, but more of an outward pouring of sympathy and concern. I was the only other person in the room and it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that Monique’s jitters were solely for my benefit.

She didn’t answer me, pressing her lips together and collecting up one of the dresses, holding it against me and tipping her head. “I think I like this one the best, but I’m wondering if hot pants would be better. He does love gold.”

I snatched the dress away from me, throwing it onto the bed. “Where am I going?”

Her eyes glassed over, her face crumpling in sick agony. “Rumors spread quickly in this town, Carlotta.”

Apprehension flittered through me. “What does that mean?”

“He’s heard about you.” Her trembling whisper and wide eyes were doing me no favors.

I grabbed her hands, squeezing her fingers and shaking them as I lost my battle with composure. “Who, Monique? Where is Santiago taking me tonight?”

“Club Impulse.” She swallowed. “Lucian Marchant wants to meet you.”

Dropping her hands, I stumbled back, my ears ringing.

I knew then that all my fears of hallucination were in fact false, because the reality that I was being taken to the one place Eric couldn’t go crushed my hope to dust. There would be no rescue this night.

Closing my eyes, I battled the nausea coursing through my body in rounding waves that made me feel like I was stranded in the middle of a maelstrom.

Santiago was unpredictable.

If he suddenly changed his mind and sold me to Marchant, I’d never be free.

Eric

I’d run back to the motel so hard and fast it’d taken me a few minutes to catch my breath. Dad stood there huffing like a rhino, while Rhodes paced the room, agitated with my gasping excitement.

“I found her.” I finally puffed. “I spoke to her.”

“You what?” Rhodes spun to face me, his eyes wide. “You actually spoke to her?”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Is she okay?”

I tipped my head to the side, the lump in my throat making it impossible to answer that question. I blinked a couple of times and ground my teeth together.

“Where’d you see her?”

“She was on the casino floor with this big bodyguard and she saw me. I tried to approach her, but quickly realized it was too risky.”

“So how’d you talk to her?” Dad had his arms crossed, his fingers pinching into his biceps.

“I went and hid in the girls’ bathroom and she met me in there.”

“Which bathroom?”

“Which casino?”

The men asked in unison.

I eyed them carefully before finally muttering, “Palacio del Diablo.”

“You went in there!” Rhodes looked ready to throttle me; Dad wasn’t far behind.

I held up my hands in surrender and pulled out a chair. “Let me tell you what I know.”

We sat for the next hour going over my brief conversation with Caity. I didn’t miss any details, seething my way through her possible broken ribs and the shiner on her cheek. Rhodes and Dad peppered me with so many questions that soon made me realize how little I’d actually gained from her.

“Okay, well, now that we know where they've got her, we need to head back in for some more recon.”

We all nodded, got ready and spent the rest of the afternoon cruising around every accessible area of Palacio del Diablo.

“I still haven’t seen her,” Rhodes mumbled as he leant against the slot machine I was being forced to play.

The guys both said it would look more legit, so for the last half hour, I’d been sitting there, feeding the machine with coins. I’d won back ten bucks so far, hardly mind-blowing.

“We’ve been here all afternoon and zip.”

I glared at the FBI agent and pointed. “She walked down those stairs with the big guy.”

“Which means she probably came out of the gold elevator.” Dad stood behind me. His jitters were driving me nuts. He couldn’t stand still in this place. He was like a high-alert Marine, ready to yank my collar and drag me out of here if something even smelled out of place. It was getting damn irritating. “The most important thing is that we have a couple of good escape routes mapped out. All we need to figure out now is how to actually get Caity out with us.”

I tapped my finger on the big plastic button and watched the numbers and symbols twirl. I was so sick of this. I just wanted to snatch Caity and run. I’d proposed the idea on the way over, but had been quickly shot down.

“Are you insane?”

“You wouldn’t even make it out the door.”

“And when they caught us, which they would, we’d be dead.”

“These are criminals we’re dealing with.”

“Not uptight businessmen.”

“We need to be thoughtful.”

“Scope the place out.”

The two men took turns barking at me all the way to the casino. I felt like I was being told off by my parents. All I wanted to do was yell in their faces that I wasn’t freaking stupid, but my girl was suffering and I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing while that happened!

Instead, I shoved my hands in my pockets and let them boss me around. I’d played good boy all afternoon.

I checked my watch. Eight-thirty.

Twelve hours ago I’d been kissing Caity in a bathroom stall.

My slot machine blipped and whizzed, tinkling excitedly as it spat out a cup full of coins. Dad raised his hand in a cheer, exaggerating it in order to look part of the crowd. I forced a smile and tried for jovial, but the expression melted off my face as the gold elevator opened and four people stepped out.

“Santiago,” Rhodes murmured. “And the guy on his right is Bruno.”

Dad nodded, but I couldn’t move. My eyes were locked on a pair of slender legs, made slutty with a pair of fishnet stockings and stiletto heels. My eyes traveled up her thin frame taking in her ridiculously tight shorts that looked like they were made out of gold. Her upper half was dressed in a top so tight it looked painted on. It appeared to be made from soft leather with strips of sheer red material behind it, like a bear had slashed at her clothing. Three red claw marks across her upper body; kind of symbolic in a way.

She obviously wasn’t wearing a bra. The sheer fabric within the shirt exposed the top and bottom edge of her right breast, yet hid her nipple...just. The mammoth bruise on her side was tucked into hiding, but her back was completely exposed, covered only by the bikini-string straps holding the shirt onto her body. It was obvious she was very strategically dressed, her brutal injury remaining a secret behind scintillating attire that would make guys’ mouths water. It made me sick. Caity was not the kind of girl to flaunt it, and that outfit had to have her internally squirming for sure. Her blonde locks were piled onto her head, drop earrings tickling the tops of her shoulders. Her slender arms were covered in black leather, making me wonder what bruises lay beneath. I should have taken a better look at her in that bathroom stall. Her eyes were dark with black makeup and fake lashes and her stoic mouth was painted blood red.

“That’s your girl?” Dad asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“No.” Rhodes and I answered in unison.

I shot him a hot scowl. He cleared his throat and looked away from me, focusing back on the staunch party that was passing us. Caity kept her eyes straight ahead. I had a feeling that maybe she’d spotted me, but if she did, she wasn’t going to show it. She looked sad, defeated. A sick horror ripped through me as I tried to guess why.

What had they done?

My hands curled into fists and I made a move to go after them. Dad planted his hand on my shoulder, keeping me in place while Rhodes moved in front of me, blocking my view.

“Get the hell out of my way,” I growled.

“You can’t take off with her when she’s surrounded by three armed men, you idiot.”

I sniffed in a hot breath, wishing Rhodes didn’t have his back turned to my lethal glare.

“Come on.” He flicked his head. “We can at least follow her.”

We ambled out of the club, even though I wanted to run. We stopped outside the main doors and watched as a limo pulled away from the curb. I wanted to jump on the back of it, like they do in the movies, punch a hole through that roof and carry Caity away to safety, but unfortunately I wasn’t the Hulk or Superman. Damn I wished superheroes were real.

A taxi pulled up and Dad nabbed it as the passengers were getting out. I jumped in the front seat and pointed. “Follow that limo.”

It felt so Hollywood, except there was no thrill, just a sick foreboding. Where was Santiago taking her, and why was she dressed like a hooker?

I squeezed the fabric of my jeans, picking at the hole that was forming on the knee. We drove for about five minutes, reaching the northern end of the Strip. The limo pulled to the curb, stopping outside a thumping club with the word Impulse written in blue neon.

“Keep driving,” Dad instructed. “Eric, you’re not going in there, buddy.”

“Excuse me?” I whipped around to face him.

“That’s Marchant’s place. There’s no way I’m letting you in there.”

I turned to the driver. “Stop the car.”

“Keep going.” Dad tapped him on the shoulder.

“Stop. This. Car.”

The driver braked.

“Keep going!”

He accelerated.

“Hey, you guys, can we not do this right now! The club might be the perfect place to sneak her out. It’s dark, plenty of people. It might be an easy place to snatch her away.”

I liked Rhodes when he played my side.

“We don’t know any of the exit routes in that building. We know nothing!” Dad argued.

“So, we’ll scout it out.”

“No! I am not putting my son within a breath of Marchant.”

“Then leave him in the car! We can’t waste this chance!”

“Marchant knows me, too. Neither of us can be seen inside that club.”

“Then I’ll go alone.”

“Like hell you’re getting
my
girlfriend out of there!” I whipped around to face him.

“Seriously, now is not the time to be a princess,” Rhodes spat. “Who cares who gets her out, as long as she’s out!”

“Stop the cab,” I spoke to the driver.

“Don’t stop!” Dad barked.

The cabby hesitated, looking at me sideways. “Stop the fucking cab!”

He slammed on the brakes and I threw open the door before Dad could grab me. Dodging traffic, I dashed across the road, ignoring my father’s irate shouts.

Scraping past a group of girls, I narrowly missed knocking one of them over and ducked into the shadows. I’d been taking orders from those two all afternoon and Dad didn’t have the right to boss me around. He forfeited that chance when he left me at that Dodgers game eight years ago. And as for Rhodes…I shook my head with a dark mutter.

I knew Marchant was a dangerous man; his goons had killed Gramps. I wasn’t stupid, but I also wasn’t going to sit by while a prime chance to get Caity back slipped through my fingers. Dad and Rhodes wouldn’t be far behind me. I peeked out of my hiding place and couldn’t spot them straightaway. My guess was they’d assumed I dashed straight into the club, which meant they’d probably follow me in there.

Risky move on Dad’s part. My guess was he wouldn’t take it. He’d no doubt search the perimeter for his stubborn son while Rhodes took the heat inside.

Wiping my nose with the back of my finger, I crept down the alley, all senses on full alert as I made my way around the building. Climbing onto a stinking dumpster, I pulled myself over the high fence and dropped down the other side.

Staying close to the brick wall running the length of the alley, I took in the lines of trashcans, steam oozing out from under the doors and the occasional bang of metal or hollering calls. It made sense that the kitchens exited out onto the back alley; that was one way in for me. I just had to wait until the right door popped open and then saunter through. I stopped to study the buildings, trying to figure out how big Club Impulse was. It looked to take up about half the block from what I had seen of the front. I jogged down a little further and snuck across the alley, checking labels on trashcans and doors.

A slow smile grew on my face when I reached the end of the row.

Impulse
was stamped clearly on the back door. I tried the handle, but it was one of those
open from the inside only
type ones. I stepped back, wondering how to play it. Did I knock and fake being the delivery boy or something?

I looked at my empty hands and shook my head.

“Come on, think!”

My brows bunched together as I stepped back, hoping my brain would come up with a flurry of ideas. I had to think of something good. My girl was in that club right now and I had no idea what was happening to her.

“I’m coming, Caity. I swear.”

Running down to the edge of the building, I found another narrow alley. My eyes saw the old, rusting fire escape. Jogging to it, I leapt high and caught the bottom rung, pulling it down and quickly ascending before someone saw me.

Who said I had to enter this club on the ground floor?