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

BOOK: Poker Face (The Masks Series Book 4)
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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.

“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.”

“You—Ah!” I threw my hands in the air. “How could you do something so stupid! Take money when you didn’t even know where it came from?”

She swallowed. “It felt right. I can’t explain why, but I did it. I haven’t seen my parents since I was eighteen. I ran away after high school and that was it.”

I balked at the news.

“There was no love lost, believe me.” She looked to the floor and I wished for Caity. I needed her eyes...on both my parents.

“You told me they were dead,” I muttered.

“They are to me.”

My eyes bulged with disbelief and I couldn’t hamper my legs a second more. I paced to the edge of the room and back, feeling like a caged animal.

Liars! I was surrounded by them!

“Look, none of that matters now.” Dad sat forward on the couch. “All I care about is getting you guys somewhere safe. Marchant’s men are not going to give up, not to mention the San Diego Police. They’ll be onto the shooting at Gramps’ house by now. They’re going to come looking for you guys, asking questions, and we can’t have that kind of attention.”

“Aren’t the police there to help us?”

“Marchant’s bigger than the SDPD. He’s French mafia and...deadly. We need to disappear, get out of the country.”

“No way. I told you, I’m not leaving without Caity.”

“Where is she?” Mom sat forward, gripping the chair as she took in my pale expression.

“I don’t know,” I croaked.

“You don’t...” She frowned. “Eric, what’s going on?”

“Shayna.” Dad moved to her side, taking both her hands.

She gazed down at him and I didn’t need Caity to see the affection she still held towards him. I scowled and paced back to the window.

“Baby, I need to get you away from here. I can’t...” Dad swallowed. “I can’t let him hurt you.”

I spun in time to see Mom gently smile as she lightly ran her fingers down his face. “Remember how we used to dream of traveling the world, going all the way to New Zealand and back?” Her smile was watery, her lips quivering.

“Yeah, I remember.” Dad grinned, kissing the inside of her wrist. “I can take you there. You’ll be safe and Marchant can’t touch you.”

I scoffed. “She’s not going to New Zealand! That’s ridiculous. We can’t just run away. What, she’s supposed to just buy in to what you’re saying and drop her whole life? What about Cliff? What about her daughters!”

Dad ignored me, holding Mom’s gaze with some kind of super power. “I know it will hurt, but this thing will blow over eventually and then you can come back. The girls are safe with their father and you can—” He grimaced. “You can get a note or something to—to Cliff.”

I shook my head, wanting to scream.

“I can’t lose you, Shay.” He gripped her hand, his thumb running soft circles over her wrist.

I thought she was about to start purring! Her expression melted to putty and I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“You
did
lose her!” I pointed at him. “The day you walked away and never came back. That was it for us! You don’t deserve a second chance; she’s moved on!”

“Eric, shut your mouth.” Dad rose, looking at me with that calm gaze of his.

I wanted to punch him again. “You put us in this position. You—you’re an asshole and we don’t need you!”

“Yes, we do.” Mom’s voice was soft as she stood beside Dad, threading her fingers through his. “But Eric’s right about the girls. Will they be safe?”

Dad held his breath for a moment before letting out a short sigh. “Marchant wants his money back...and even though he thinks I'm dead, he wants my family to pay. Those girls aren't my family. He won't be interested in them, but I’m still going to make sure he can't touch any of us.”

“What are you going to do?” She gripped his arm.

He ran his fingers through his floppy hair. “As soon as you and Eric are someplace safe, I’m going to resurrect myself and return his cash.”

“No.” Mom shook her head. “You can’t do that. He’ll kill you.”

“Shayna, baby, it’s okay. All that matters is that you and Eric are safe.”

I rolled my eyes and groaned.

Dad threw me a sharp look.

I met it head on. “Safe? If you wanted to keep us safe, you should have stayed the hell away.”

“I did!” He finally snapped, the calm facade being pushed aside. “I’ve stayed in the shadows for the last eight years trying to assure that Marchant could never connect anything back to you or your mother.”

“Then how the hell did he find us?” I threw my arms wide.

“I don’t know,” Dad barked. “Something alerted him. I can’t figure out what triggered all of this, but somehow he managed to find out that Antonio Costa was my fake ID. Somehow he uncovered a trail that I have spent years trying to hide.” The desperation in Dad’s voice sounded so genuine.

I had no response and so he kept going, his voice sounding more broken.

“It must have been some hacking genius that unearthed it. The thing I can’t figure out is that my Antonio backstory was solid. I was a single man with no ties and he thinks I’m dead, so why would he start looking?”

An awkward silence followed his question. Nobody had any answers. Mom’s quiet sniffle was the only thing to break the heavy stillness.

Dad’s voice was only just a whisper. “I know I’ve let you guys down repeatedly, but I tried to make it right and I stayed away to
keep
it right, but now Marchant knows and he’s going to be looking for major payback. I refuse to let that happen to you guys.” He turned to Mom, appealing to the major soft spot she obviously still had for him. “Please, let me get you out of here.”

Mom pressed her lips together, fresh tears covering her cheeks. “Okay.” Her head bobbed. “Okay, let’s go.”

“No.” I stood my ground, pulling back my shoulders. “I told you, I’m not leaving without Caity.”

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