High Stakes (Dead Man’s Hand #2)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

HECTOR

2 Months Ago

“ W hat the hell are you still doing here?” Tobias says, shock coloring his tone. He leans against the doorframe of the security office that I am currently sulking in.

“What do you mean?” I mutter without looking away from the screen in front of me. I watch the small squares on the monitor as they shift to various locations in our safe-house and casino.

“I’m going to kill her,” he nearly shouts, and slams his hand down onto the table. “For fuck’s sake! Why can’t she just do what she’s told for once in her Goddamn life?”

His anger makes me turn to look at him, and it feels like I’ve been sucker punched when I meet his gaze. His eyes are full of fear. “Where is she?” I ask slowly, and start the process of clicking my way through the series of screens to get to her security feed. I close window after window, and with each click the feeling of dread gets heavier in the pit of my stomach.

“She took the Russian hit job,” Tobias sighs, and scrubs his face with his hands. “I told her to take backup. I assumed she would come and collect you.”

That feeling of dread in my stomach turns into a molten pit of fear and anger. I continue to click as fast as I can until I pull up her main camera feed on her helmet. “Fuck,” I hiss through clenched teeth as I magnify the image. “She’s at Port Annalise.”

“If they don’t kill her before we get there,” he says slowly and turns to leave. “I’m going to be sure to murder her when we get back.”

Tobias Emerson and I don’t typically see eye-to-eye, but this is something that I can wholeheartedly agree on.

He pulls out his cell to call in backup, but I just shake my head. “Don’t bother. I’ll grab Marcus on the way out. He’s always ready to go, and we can get there faster than a large group.”

Tobias nods once and disappears down the hall without another word. I turn and head for the bar to gather Marcus and my weapons.

“Tell me again what’s happened?” Marcus twirls a knife between his fingers absently as I speed down the highway, weaving in and out of cars that have no business being on the road at all. “Why are you in the vroom vroom lane if you aren’t going to go vroom vroom?” He shouts at a SUV as I swing around them.

I roll my eyes and grip the wheel until my knuckles turn white. “She took a hit assignment from the Russians without backup. There’s been a lot of shit going down with the other groups and we think she’s not safe.”

“That bitch is never safe,” he mutters fondly, and slips his knife into the sheath, only to pull out a gun instead. “She handles herself just fine all the other times. She’s put you in your place a time or two,” Marcus quips with a chuckle.

I clench my jaw and twist my fists around the wheel. “Sometimes I pull my punches,” I admit quietly, and almost wince at the guilt burning up my throat like acid reflux.

Marcus hisses through his teeth. “She’s going to surely shoot you if she ever finds out.” His fingers press bullet after bullet into the clip in his hand. “But I get it. I don’t think I’d have the balls to hit the woman I’ve been hot for since I was old enough to beat off.”

“I do not have the hots for my boss,” I groan, and cut my eyes to the passenger door. If I could reach the handle while we were taking a sharp turn, then he would just roll right out. “She’s a great boss and I swore to protect her. I can’t protect her and simultaneously beat the shit out of her.”

“Right right,” Marcus says with another chuckle. “There!” His finger points at a spot just behind a row of shipping containers. “I see her bike. She must already be inside.”

Before we even get out of the car, my eyes catch movement along the dock. I watch in horror as five men carry a very limp woman dressed in black riding gear out of a side door and deposit her into the trunk of a blacked out SUV. My heart drops through the floorboard and shatters on the pavement beneath me.

They already have her.

I failed her.

They took her from me before I even had the chance to have her.

I inhale sharply and throw the car into reverse. Marcus reaches up and grabs the ‘oh shit’ handle before he actually does roll out of the car. “New plan. Call Tobias.”

Marcus relays a cliff note version of what just happened to Tobias as I try to keep up with the SUV, but I lose them after seven turns and two stop lights.

“Fuck!” I shout and hit the steering wheel with my fists. Marcus opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off with a glare. “I’m not going back to the compound right now! She’s out there somewhere with those fucking dicks.”

Marcus throws up his hands in surrender and says nothing. His phone chirps, breaking the tense silence. “What’s up?” he answers smoothly, and nods thoughtfully. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he makes eye contact with me, and I know from that look in his eyes that I’m not going to like it. “I’ll tell him.”

“Tell me what?” I ask cautiously.

“The Irish have her. Security was able to pull a few seconds off her body camera before it went dead.”

I was right. I don’t like it.

“I swear to you, we did not know that the warehouse was compromised. We knew that the rat had been dealing with the Italians, but not the Irish.” Maxim’s accent is thick as he tries to explain their innocence. His brother sits beside him with a hard glint in his eyes. “Lexi, Do you still have that contact?”

Lexi nods once without looking away from the monitor that plays Emelia’s fight on loop.

“Then use it. We have no ill will toward the Black Crown, and Miss Emelia is too pretty to end up on the wrong end of a barrel, don’t you think?” Maxim tosses a set of keys to his brother, who catches them with ease.

My skin prickles at his comment, but I don’t speak. My eyes also remain glued to the monitor, silently begging for any hints from the grainy image.

Alexie stands slowly and holds out a hand to me. “Come. I have a way inside.”

I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. What choice do I have? I’m out of options and my girl is on borrowed time.

Marcus and I shift uncomfortably in the back of the Porsche parked outside a boarded up gas station. Alexie looks into the rearview mirror and meets my glare. “You don’t have anything bigger?” I snap, and drive my elbow into Marcus’s side.

“Ow, fuck face!” He snaps, and shoves my knee with both his hands. “I literally cannot slide over any further.”

Alexie smirks into the mirror and there’s a brief moment where I imagine myself pulling a gun and slamming a bullet right between his stupid eyes. “This is what I came here in. My apologies,” he says with a chuckle. “We can go inside in just one moment.”

The phone in his hand pings. His eyes move across the screen before meeting mine in the rearview mirror again. “I go in first. You two wait fifteen minutes before following. That will give me time.”

“You can have five,” I say slowly, clenching my teeth so hard my jaw aches.

“I cannot do it. I can maybe do it in ten,” Alexie counters calmly. “I will work as fast as I can.”

“Just hurry the fuck up,” Marcus snaps, and hits the back of the driver’s seat with his fist twice. “My legs are cramping.”

I turn and level him with a seething glare. “Your legs are cramping?” My anger boils over and I barely register Alexie exiting the car and disappearing into the building. “She’s in there having God only knows what done to her, and you’re here complaining about your legs?”

Marcus holds up his hands, palms out. “Easy, man, I want to get to her just as much as you do. Let’s tone down the murderous glare.” His eyes drop to his phone as it vibrates in his lap. “He’s in. The place is full of muscle. He says give him five minutes and then you can tear the place apart.”

I scoff and swing my eyes to the clock on the dashboard, watching the minutes drag by agonizingly slowly. I take a deep breath in through my nose and then blow it out. At breath number 84, my body is vibrating with feral energy and I can’t sit any longer. I push myself out of the car and stalk toward the building without a glance over my shoulder. I know Marcus is hot on my heels.

When I slam the door open, three men in black tactical gear jump to their feet and reach for their weapons. Marcus drops the first two before their fingers even close around their guns. I swing at the third as he aims at Marcus, my fist connecting with his jaw. He grunts and turns on me, dropping the gun to the floor in favor of fists.

Fine by me. I need something to beat to a pulp.

My hands blur as I swing, my fury unrelenting.

Jab. Cross. Jab. Jab. Right uppercut.

My knuckles connect with his nose, snapping his head back and sending him to the floor. My eyes burn and my muscles tingle as I drop on top of him and continue to pummel his face. I can feel his blood running down my face and into my beard, but I can’t stop my arms as they swing, one right after another.

Marcus squeezes my right shoulder, hard, and pulls me out of the trance I’m trapped in. I nod at him and scrub my hand over my face and head, smearing the blood across the tattoos that decorate my scalp.

Four more men enter and shout angrily in Italian, swinging their guns around to aim at us. I dive behind an overturned snack fixture as they open fire. Marcus ducks behind the counter, popping up every few seconds to rain his own fury down in the form of bullets. I pull my pistol from my waistband and we quickly drop the men as they stalk through the room.

I stand and take in the scene of gore before us, chest heaving as the adrenaline continues to cause my heart rate to climb. The silence is broken by Alexie’s voice as he shouts ‘enough’ followed quickly by a single gunshot.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

My stomach drops out of my body and my knees buckle. “Emelia,” I breathe out as Marcus grabs my elbow to steady me.

“Move it, Castelo,” Marcus grunts, but I’m already moving.

My legs pull me forward before my mind can even register what direction is up. I stalk through the growing puddles of crimson and push open a metal door with so much force that it slams against the wall. My eyes scan the room and land on Emelia’s bloody form tied to a chair. “Alexie, how bad?” I lunge forward and drop to my knees in front of her because I am physically incapable of standing for one more second as I take in her injuries.

My lungs are so tight in my chest that I can barely breathe. My fingers itch to touch her, but I don’t know where she’s hurt, so my hands just hover uselessly. She’s covered in so much blood.

“Stabbed,” she says weakly on a sharp inhale. “Chest and abdomen.” Another sharp inhale. “Knife is still there.” Her head falls forward and I nearly weep at how she looks, so frail and weak.

My phoenix. Please, Little Bird, please don’t do this to me.

I ignore Alexia as he talks and cuts her bindings. I shrug out of my jacket, followed by my tank top. With the fabric balled in one hand, the other wraps around the handle of the knife. “One. Two.” I pull the blade out quickly and press my shirt to the gushing wound. “Three,” I breathe out, and bite back the bile that rises in my throat.

“You fucking asshole.” Her voice waivers and she turns her head to vomit.

Pride and anger war within me as I stand and watch her. She’s so fucking strong. “Can you hold pressure? I’m going to pick you up. Stay with me, Little Bird,” I whisper, and gather her into my arms, careful to avoid her stab wounds. Her enticing scent envelopes me as she drops her head to my shoulder.

I inhale deeply, the smell of copper marring the floral scent of her shampoo. My arms tighten around her frame as we head for the car. My stomach still feels like it’s doing somersaults in my abdomen and my heart is squeezing painfully in my chest, but I let the relief wash over me as I cradle her against my chest.

She better thank the gods above and below that she is still breathing, because I would have killed her if she’d died. My eyes meet hers and I feel like I’ve physically been struck by lightning. I inhale sharply and make a vow right here and now, that I will never let her out of my sight again.

She’s here. She’s alive. And she’s mine.