Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
“ You ’ re late,” I snap at Max as he pushes open the back door of his town car from the inside, almost falling out in his haste.
“ Yes, I know. I ’ m sorry. Get in.” Max slides across the seat, and I step in, already on edge, and we ’ ve not even gotten to Skeeze. “ I ’ m a little nervous, but I ’ m still keeping it together. What ’ s got your knickers in a bunch?” Your son?
“ I ’ m sorry, rough few weeks. It will be fine, Max. We ’ ve been here before, right? You ’ ve got nothing to worry about.”
“ I hope you ’ re right. There ’ s a lot riding on this game.” More than he knows, but I say nothing and nod my agreement.
Daniel sent Max a text last week telling him the location had moved and the buy-in had changed. Two hundred freaking thousand. Max sounded like he was going to puke on the phone when he called in a panic. But here we are, out to risk it all, and I ’ m not even sure for what, really.
The thirty-minute drive out of the city is spent in silence, both of us no doubt lost to our inner turmoil, but all too soon we ’ re pulling up to the address Daniel messaged. It looks sketchy as fuck. Blacked-out, broken windows, discarded old factory machinery, and shelled-out cars in various stages of harvest cover the external grounds. Fuck, what have we gotten ourselves into?
“ Breathe, Max. You need to relax, or this could go sour real quick, okay?”
He nods, but he still looks a little green around the edges.
The warehouse door opens as we approach; no words are exchanged, just the clear understanding that we are to follow. The broken windows shed little light as we enter the old factory building. It ’ s dark, stank, and creepy. All the tiny hairs on my arms and the back of my neck rise to attention as my Jimmy Choos echo across the concrete floor, seeming to ricochet off the metal pipes and machines occupying the space.
It reminds me of so many scenes in movies, like I ’ m just waiting for the vat of toxic sludge to appear up ahead and the Joker to pop out. We halt abruptly, and the guy in front creaks open a metal door that sounds like it ’ s not been used in thirty years. The tinny, scraping sound runs down my spine like nails on a chalkboard. I all but convulse with the shudder that racks me.
“ In.”
I watch Max take a deep breath before he walks in front of me and enters the room, with me hot on his heels.
“ Max.” Douche nods by way of greeting, his beady eyes locking on me a split second later. “ And finally, our entertainment has arrived. Always a pleasure, Candy.”
“ You said she was a looker, boss,” one goon behind him chuckles.
“ You ’ re too kind. And of course I ’ m here. You made me promise I would be. I can ’ t let all the fellas down, now can I? You said they ’ d enjoy the eye candy .”
He grins and somehow makes it look like a sneer. Crooked and slimy, just like him.
“ I assume you came prepared?”
“ As much as one can be,” Max chuckles and passes over the bag of cash, my pulse quickening as their hands exchange the goods.
We watch transfixed as one of Daniel ’ s goons runs it through a cash machine, counting every bill. I don ’ t know about Max, but I for sure am holding my breath, waiting for that magic figure to ping at the end.
“ Three hundred.” He nods, approval and greed shining in his soulless eyes. “ Someone came to play to win, hmm?”
“ Like I said, I ’ m as prepared as I can be. A little wiggle room never hurt anyone.”
“ Don ’ t say that to a woman,” I chuckle to myself, trying to ease my own nerves, never mind anyone else ’ s.
“ Indeed. ” Douche looks at me like he ’ s picturing my tight spaces clamping down on him.
I turn my gaze to Max in order not to vomit or punch the douche, watching as a different goon hands over the chips.
We head to the long black table off to the side, six equally sketchy men scattered around it, the dealer front and center on one side, a vacant space for Max and me smack-bang in the middle of the other. I do the math, and holy shit, with buy-ins alone, they ’ re playing with over one-point-six million.
Fuck. Me.
The game starts off slow, everyone barely dipping their toes in, afraid to get wet too quickly. Ten thousand here, ten thousand there; small change in the grand scheme of things. After a few hours, though, the chips really get a workout, changing so many hands it ’ s hard to know who had what to begin with and who has the upper hand. One by one, the men drop or quit because they can ’ t take the heat. Some stay to watch and others storm out, raging the whole while, the goons just a twitch of a head away to help them out the door.
Max is playing so well. He ’ s nothing like the man I first met all those months ago, sweating and looking like his life depended on winning. I don ’ t know if it ’ s the fact I ’ m here, a balm of sorts to his storm, or if it ’ s that he finally learned how to play smart.
It ’ s a relief in a way because I ’ ve been struggling to focus all night.
All I can think about is Jeremy. Every time I look at Max, I see him. The same deep blue eyes, the strong, slightly pointed jaw, and the shape of his nose. How I didn ’ t connect the dots sooner, I have no idea. But I need to stop. I can ’ t keep thinking about Jeremy; it ’ s messing with me too much. I have a part to play, a job to do. Everything is riding on this game. I need to stay focused. Max is counting on me. We need to win.
I feel eyes on me and look up to find the guy across from Max zeroing in on my tits. I smile sweetly at him, but inside I cringe. He ’ s not bad looking, with an abundance of dark features. His hair, eyebrows, lashes, even his eyes are a rich, dark brown bordering on black, and with a fresh, bronze color to his flawless skin, he ’ s almost attractive. But there ’ s something about him that ’ s making my skin crawl in the worst way. I doubt any figure he could throw at me would ever sway me to be his, not even for an hour.
Dark-and-dangerous ups the ante, throwing down two hundred grand, and I see it. His left eye twitches, and his nostrils flare. It ’ s a minuscule movement, so, so tiny it would be almost imperceptible if you weren ’ t looking for it, looking directly at him.
My pulse hums. We have him. This is it; the break Max has been waiting for the last five hours, and the out I need.
I sneeze, the delicate, girly sound I ’ ve mastered breaking the tense silence.
“ I ’ m sorry, baby,” I whisper, smiling like the blond bimbo I ’ m pretending to be and giving a coy, embarrassed one to Blackie. Now it ’ s up to Max.
He frowns in contemplation and, when it ’ s his turn, looks up from his cards as if he didn ’ t hear me at all. “ Fuck it.” With both hands, he shoves eighty percent of his chips into the pot. “ You only live once, right?”
My breath catches in my throat as I wait for Blackie ’ s next move. His nostrils flare again. This time , you ’ d have to be blind to miss it.
“ So it would seem.” His tone is harder than granite, and my heart pounds frantically in my chest, ready to burst at any second.
He follows suit, going all in. I quickly do the math and swallow my gasp. Holy shit, seven hundred large ones. At least.
I ’ m dancing inside, but a sick panic crawls up from my toes, working its way to settle in the pit of my stomach. Something ’ s not right; it feels all wrong. But I push it down, focusing on keeping my breathing even and feigning boredom like I ’ ve been doing all night.
With our close call a while back, it ’ s never been more important to look disinterested, to not be paying attention—not that that has been all that hard tonight—because what kind of ditzy blonde likes poker?
My skin prickles, gooseflesh breaking out along my arms, and I know without looking that Douchie Daniel is focused on me. I chew on a nail, fighting hard not to turn my gaze toward him, not to shudder at the feeling slithering across my skin. Though mainly, I ’ m fighting not to panic. I didn ’ t take his hand into account…
“ I ’ m getting a real sense of d é jà vu here, so uncanny.”
Max laughs lightly, and I hear the nervous edge to it. We wait, a little on bated breath , to see what he ’ s going to do, if he ’ s finally going to call us out, or if he ’ s going to step up again. The last time we were here, we won, and he was none too pleased.
“ Well, not one to be outplayed…” My heart stops as Daniel slides his chips, all five-hundred-k-odd of them, into the middle, shooting Max a pointed look. Max follows suit, pushing the remainder of his chips in.
That ’ s well over a million in chips. I can ’ t breathe, and judging by a quick sideways glance, neither can Max.
Fuck.
Me.
I can ’ t look, but like a car wreck or some kind of freak accident, I can ’ t look away. I watch as card after card is turned over. About to jump for joy when Blackie turns over his wet dog of a hand, almost kicking the table over when he realizes he ’ s lost. The goon squad is on his ass in a second, hauling him out the door before he so much as finishes his death threat. Leaving me, Max, and Skeeze . Everyone else was asked to leave two hours ago.
Before I can squeal with excitement and fill my eyes with dollar signs, I catch sight of Skeeze ’ s ace and queen.
“ I believe that ’ s a royal flush.”
Time stands still, and I stop breathing all together . All I can do is stare at those two fucking cards.
We lost?
We lost.
We lost everything. Holy shit.
“ You cheated!” Max roars, rushing to his feet.
“ Max! ” I ’ m on mine in a split second, my functionality returning in my haste to de-escalate the situation. “ We lost, baby. It ’ s over. Let ’ s just leave, okay? There will be other games. It ’ s just money.”
My hands are on his face, desperate to get him to look at me and see the seriousness in my eyes.
“ No. ” He shakes his head violently, desolation and desperation dripping from his tone. “ That was everything. Everything we ’ ve been working so hard for. Everything you worked so hard for.”
“ Now, is that right?”
Shit .
“ Thanks for having us, Daniel. Congratulations. Well played.”
“ I believe I ’ m the one who ’ s been played.” He gets up from the table and takes a few steps toward us, and I ’ m ashamed to admit, I ’ m shaking a little in my Choos. “ What are you?”
“ What?” I laugh, sounding ditzier than ever. “ I dunno what you mean.”
“ Sure you don ’ t.”
“ She ’ s an escort—” Fuck, Max! “ I paid her to accompany me, to give me the balls to play above my league.”
Daniel ’ s glee at this revelation is clear. His eyes go wide, but somehow narrow in calculation at the same time. “ You ’ re a whore?!”
“ Only for the right price. And few can afford to pay it.” My ditzy veil drops, shattering to the floor, and Candy is no more. The signature smug curve of my lips appears, my true visage falling back into place like an old friend, and a light switches on in Douche ’ s eyes.
“ Well, then. Max is all cashed out . I guess it ’ s my turn.”
“ Not in a million fu—” I put a firm hand to Max ’ s chest, cutting him off.
“ Like I said, well played and congratulations. I ’ m sure with winnings like that you can get any girl, but I won ’ t be one of them. I ’ m on the clock, and I always see my shift through. Good night, Daniel. I ’ d say it was a pleasure, but we both know I ’ d be lying.”
His eyes flare, but he surprises me and throws back his head and laughs. “ Fifty grand. I ’ ll give you fifty thousand to walk out of here with me.”
My stomach turns at the thought.
“ You have got to be joking.”
“ Max.” My tone clearly says shut the fuck up . “ It ’ s time to leave.”
We turn and head for the exit, unsurprisingly finding two goons blocking the way.
“ Now, now, let ’ s not be hasty. I ’ m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.”
“ I ’ m sure you think that, but alas, you have nothing I want. I have no need for clients or money.”
“ That may be true for you, but what about Max?”
“ What about him?”
Now the panic is really kicking in.
“ I ’ m fine, thanks.” But it comes out weakly, showing just how much he ’ s freaking out.
“ So you didn ’ t just lose everything? Hadn ’ t been working up to this and hoping for the big payout?”
“ There is no amount of money you could offer that would make me leave here tonight with you.”
“ Five hundred grand.”
Max chokes, and I pause. I goddamn pause.
“ I will give you, or Max—your choice—five hundred thousand dollars, in cash, if you walk out of here with me.”
“ What ’ s the catch?”
“ Vivienne! You can ’ t seriously be thinking—”
“ There ’ s no catch. You leave here tonight with me, as mine—”
“ For tonight only.”
“ For tonight only. And Max walks out with the cash.”
“ In one piece.”
He laughs. “ Yes, in one piece. So, what do you say?”
Fuck .
“ She says no way.”
“ Max.”
“ No. You are not doing this for me.”
“ Of course I am.”
“ Excellent. ” The exhilaration in Daniel ’ s eyes makes me sick. He nods, and one of his men heads to the cash machine.
“ Hold it.” Skeeze ’ s patience slips and a jolt of fear hits me. “ I have always been one hundred and ten percent clean, and I plan to stay that way. Proof of a clean bill of health is a strict requirement for me. I doubt you can produce one.”
A satisfied sneer replaces the scowl. “ You would be wrong. Again.”
Douche snaps his fingers twice, and a goon produces a cell. I watch, unsure of what outcome I ’ m hoping for as he unlocks the phone and swipes a few times, then holds it out for me. Stepping forward, I take it and look. Dated six weeks ago, from the same place I use, is a full, clean bill of health.
Shit .
“ Why do you have this?”
There is a possibility it ’ s fake, but why would he need one?
“ Ah …” Color stains his sallow cheeks, and alarm bells go off. “ I had a rash.”
“ Elaborate, or no dice.”
“ I used some fruity shit condoms and broke out in a rash a few days later. Obviously , I panicked and got tested. Satisfied?”
Damn it. “ Hardly.” My head is spinning in a million directions, Laura ’ s voice screaming in the back of my mind, you fucking idiot. Think! “ Fine, but my mouth is strictly off limits . You will be suited at all times, and I ’ m going to need to inspect the…goods before we get down to business.”
“ As you said, fine.” Waving his hand dismissively, he gestures for the goons to continue counting the money.
My stomach twists as I watch the notes spin. I can ’ t believe I ’ m going through with this.
“ Vivienne, no. Keep your dirty money.”
“ Max, it ’ s okay,” I whisper. “ This is what I do. I ’ ll be fine.”
“ No. I ’ ll never forgive myself if—”
“ It ’ s not like I didn ’ t see it coming. It was always a possibility.” At this, his eyes go wide. “ We got what we came for. Let me finish this. Take the money and go.”
“ Viv —”
“ Trust me.” I put every ounce of will, of feeling, of whatever I have into those two words, then into him. “ I have this under control. It ’ ll be okay. Please. Leave.”
He ’ s shaking his head so violently it ’ s almost comical. But before Max could protest further , Daniel ’ s goons rush up behind me, push the cash-loaded duffel at him, and shove him out the door.
I hear the muffled screaming on the other side, the metal twang as he bangs on it before he ’ s no doubt dragged out of the building. I silently pray he makes it home in one piece and with all the money we worked so hard for.
I can cope with what ’ s next if he can. If not, then this will all be for nothing, and I might not survive that.
I ’ m dragged through several doors and down some stark corridors until I ’ m pushed none too gently out a back door into an alley behind the warehouse, a blacked-out van waiting.
Another goon steps out, opens the side door, and glares at me until I get the hint and get in. Once again, I find myself pushed in from behind. I stumble a few times, my shoes catching on my dress. I scoot to the far side, right up against the door as Daniel climbs in behind me, leering and ogling. What he plans to do with me is flashing across his glazing eyes.
A shudder slips out, and I wrap my arms around myself, desperately wishing I ’ d been able to put my coat on first. Shit . What did I do with my cell?
“ Don ’ t worry, Princess, I ’ ll be warming you up in no time.”
I shoot him a faker-than-fake smile, but even that I can only manage at half-mast. I ’ m surprised he ’ s not mauling me already. Though I ’ m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. But I ’ m concerned all the same.
The van fills with the sound of the locks clicking into place, and my heart burns in my chest it races so hard. I ’ m jolted back as it speeds away in the pitch-black night of pre-dawn. The silence that follows leaves me no choice but to go over and over the last few hours, weeks, even. A twisted montage of Max and Jeremy meshes and swirls in incoherent jumbles. As if this night couldn ’ t get any worse.
The van comes to an abrupt stop, and Douche yells at the goons in the front as he gets out of the car.
I ’ m hauled out by my arm, stumbling to avoid having it ripped off completely, and just barely prevent it from being pulled out of the socket.
The concerned that I don ’ t have a damn clue where I am or how the fuck I ’ m going to get out of this situation I so readily got myself into is high. Stupidly getting so lost in my head left me with no freaking idea how long we were driving, what direction we went in, or any turns, sounds, or lights. I couldn ’ t really see out the windows all that well anyway, but all those crime shows I ’ ve spent a crazy amount of time watching have come to nothing. I am without a doubt the worst crime junkie. And if I ever get out of this and get kidnapped—sort of—for real, I ’ m screwed.
I ’ m literally screwed.
I try to make up for it now, taking what I can of my surroundings in , but I ’ m hurried so quickly down the side of a house toward the back that I barely see anything but shrubs. There are a few sirens blaring in the distance , but nothing else to give me any indication of where I am.
Before I can stop myself, I ask, “ where are we?”
“ Nowhere. You ’ re nowhere now.”