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  “At one point they, uh, chloroformed me again. I woke up in the back trunk of a car. I was really scared and my whole body hurt. I could feel the car going really fast, so I knew there was nothing I could do. But then I felt it stop. Here. At the gas station. I heard the guy get out to pump the gas, and then he walked away. I heard his footsteps get softer. I was so scared, but I remembered something Monique taught me once when we were watching some police show together.

  I kicked out the taillight and reached through it to press that button to pop the trunk. As soon as it was open, I closed the trunk and ran. I hid behind that huge saguaro not far from the gas station and I watched the guy get back in the car and drive off. I don’t think he knew I was gone. And when he drove away, I just called you from the payphone and ran into the station and locked myself in the bathroom. I wanted to call the cops but… I was afraid. Besides, they wouldn’t believe me. I know they wouldn’t,” she begins to cry, her shoulders shaking with emotion.

  I put my arms around her, patting her on the back as she sobs into my shoulder. This is all worse than I even thought. Dominick was right on the money. I always knew Carl was a sleazebag who couldn’t be trusted, but this? This is insanity. Selling us to the mafia like a couple of cows? Hell no. I won’t stand for it.

  “Vanessa, listen to me: the mafia doesn’t forget a bargain. They’ll be coming after us, and between the mafia and Carl, one of the two is bound to catch up if we don’t split soon. So here’s what you’re going to do for me. I’m going to give you some money, and I’m going to get that nice cab driver out there to call up one of his colleagues to come get me. That nice man is going to take you to Reno. There, you’re going to get on a bus. Make sure you buy a ticket to get as far from Vegas as you can go. Then find another bus station, another company, and take another bus even further. When you get there, you lie low, okay? Use the money I give you. Pay for a hotel. Not a crappy one, either. You put yourself up in a safe hotel and make it your basecamp. From there, you find a job. Something quiet. Be a bartender or a nanny or something. Get paid in cash and pay for everything in cash. Keep a stash of burner phones. Use one for a week and toss it. On to the next one. They’ll forget us eventually, but for now, you’re going to need to be paranoid to keep yourself safe,” I tell her firmly, pushing back to gaze into her teary eyes.

  She sniffles and nods. “But what about you, Hadley? Why don’t you just come with me? They’ll be after you, too. Just come with me. We can hide out together,” she suggests.

  I bite my lip. It’s a tempting offer. Just leave all this mess behind and start over. But if I do, I’ll be abandoning my money. My dreams of owning a home. Of traveling the world. Of broadening my horizons.

  And I’ll be leaving Dominick behind, too. Why does the thought of that bug me so much?

  “I can’t go with you,” I tell her with a sigh. “I can’t. One of us can disappear, but us together... It’s too dangerous, honey. We need to split up. It’ll be harder for them to trace us that way. Here. Take this.”

  I pull out my slick little patent leather wallet and yank out a stack of hundred-dollar bills. A thick stack. Vanessa’s eyes widen as I force the stack into her hands. “Go out there and get in that taxi. Tell him to take you to Reno. Follow my instructions from there. You can do this,” I assure her.

  She looks heartbroken at first, and I know it’s killing her to leave me behind. But finally, she nods and tucks the money into her pocket. “Okay. I’ll try. Thank you,” Vanessa says softly.

  “Don’t mention it. We’ve got to look out for each other in this world. Because you sure as hell know nobody else is going to,” I tell her with a dry smile. “Go. Go ahead.”

  She looks like she wants to say something else, but she thinks better of it. Instead, she just hugs me tight for a few seconds, then bolts out of the bathroom. She leaves me to stand there, looking at my own reflection in the filthy mirror. What the hell am I going to do? Will I run away? Spend my whole life trying to outpace the mafia, always looking over my shoulder?

  Dominick

  The sound of my brass knuckles landing a solid blow on Carl Owen’s right cheekbone makes a satisfying crack as the bastard’s head flies back, nearly knocking him over. Thanks to the soft white glow of the security camera screens, I can see the trickle of blood running down his face and staining his shirt collar as he trembles.

  “Hey hey, none of that,” I growl, patting his face and making him look up at me again. “You fall asleep on me and I’ll make you regret it when you wake up.”

  “Please, I-” he stammers, but I interrupt him with another punch to the jaw that knocks a tooth out, sending it clattering across the floor.

  I have Carl in one of the money counting rooms under the casino, surrounded by security camera live feeds while I deal with him. All things considered, he has it better than a lot of people I’ve interrogated. His clothes are still on, his joints are all intact, and I haven’t yet been ordered to cut anything off him.

  But I’m still trying to figure out why Jerry had such a sudden change of heart.

  Not long after Hadley and I parted ways and I kept searching the house for any clues as to where Carl might have been, I got a call from Jerry himself. He told me there had been a change of plans regarding Carl.

  That part isn’t too unusual in the mafia. Deals change and get made in the blink of an eye, especially when the person in question catches wind that his life is in danger. People will give up just about anything to spare their lives from the kind of punishment the mafia can dole out.

  But Jerry was pretty confident that I wasn’t supposed to take any deal from Carl Owens. He was worth more than just the debt; he was going to be the message that makes sure the casino runs very smoothly for the foreseeable future.

  Jerry didn’t give me specifics, but he did call me back to the casino with a very interesting update.

  The reason I couldn’t find Carl at the house was that Carl was at the casino. Jerry told me he’d had a chat with Carl, and that he would soon be trying to leave the casino and head back to me. He wanted to keep Carl a little closer to home, so he had me intercept the guy in the parking lot.

  I had to admit, waiting for him by his own car and watching his face go pale was a satisfying experience, after everything I’d heard about the scumbag. It was even more satisfying to tackle him to the ground and subdue him before having him dragged down here to the money counting room. As if it weren’t obvious, this room doubles as an interrogation room of sorts. Can’t see bloodstains in the carpet when the lights are off so often.

  Simply put, Jerry gave me orders to beat the living shit out of Carl. He said specifically not to kill him, and with every punch, I’m curious to know why.

  “Still with me, Carl?” I ask mildly as I flex my fingers, waiting for him to lift his head again. I reach down and take hold of his chin and force him to look up at my hardened face. “Can’t tell you how bad it’ll get for you if you pass out on me. Just telling you for your own sake.”

  “This shouldn’t be happening, this is a mistake!” he blubbers. “I’m protected!”

  “Is that so?” I chuckle, letting his head fall and pacing around him slowly. “Carl, I’ve got to hand it to you, you had a smart business model. But seriously, where’d you get the stones to try to pay us off with our own money? How stupid do you think we are?”

  He struggles for words, and I slap him across the face before pulling a chair up and sitting across from him, putting the back in front of me and leaning my arms on it to stare at him.

  “And how the fuck do you think you can treat your girls like that, huh?” I say in a lower tone. I shouldn’t be talking about this part, but this one’s personal. The idea of some fuck like Carl screwing over people like Hadley and Vanessa pisses me off on a deeper level than just business. “If Jerry starts thinking you’re trying to flex nuts with us, don’t think for a second that he’ll hesitate to have me cut ‘em off.”

  “Oh god, I’m so
sorry,” Carl sobs. “I-I just thought we had a deal! Y-you talked to Jerry, didn’t you? He talked to you, right?”

  There’s that deal I was suspecting, but I don’t know specifics yet. I start to wonder if I can use this to my advantage.

  “Words are one thing,” I say, standing up again and pacing slowly in front of him. “You proved that words aren’t enough though, Carl. You’ve got nobody but you to blame for this.”

  “But- but I told them, I’ve got the girl ready to hand over to you!”

  I pause.

  Something clicks in my head, and my grip on my brass knuckles tightens. I know Hadley lied to me about it being Vanessa on the phone, and I know she was in trouble. Hadley believed I was going to kill her boss, and she wouldn’t have left if what Vanessa said on the phone wasn’t far more important than stopping me from murdering a man.

  And now, this. I slowly make my way around behind Carl, and I reach down to take hold of his thin hair and pull his head back to look up at me.

  “Oh, do you now? Maybe you’re right, I don’t think we’re on the same page. Care to elaborate?”

  “I-I-I made a deal with Jerry!” he says, suddenly energized by the thought that there might be hope for him. “I offered your people that simpering bitch Vanessa in exchange for clearing the debt, as-as-as an apology! B-but he said it wasn’t enough!”

  I let his hair go, and I slowly started to move across the room to a corner next to the security camera feeds.

  “Go on,” I say, sounding interested, as if I’m really second-guessing myself.

  “So I... I told him,” he breathed, sounding ragged and desperate. “I’d throw in another girl, the prettiest one out of the bunch! You’ve got to see her, she’s stunning. Listen, you should be going to collect her right this second, give her right to Jerry! Or even better, just take her for a trial run! Her name is Hadley, she’s staying at this very hotel! I’ve got her room number, you could go have a first go at her before your boss does!”

  I find what I’m looking for, and a dark smile crosses my face. I reach down and pick up an extension cord coiled up in the corner. I slip my brass knuckles off and put them in my pocket before picking up the three-pronged head of the extension cord, feeling the weight of the end of it.

  Swinging that end around in a small, slow circle, I let Carl get a look at it as I approach him, glaring down at him with an uncaring expression.

  “Two girls for a cleared debt, huh?” I say.

  “Y-yeah, I swear! Check with Jerry, I’d bet my life on it!” he splutters, pupils widening at the sight of what I was approaching him with.

  “I bet you would,” I say coolly.

  I lash the cord across his face, and the pointed metal catches him right on the sore cheekbone I’d been punishing a moment ago. He howls in pain as blood flies from him, and he barely has time to recover before I whip him again across the torso, and again, and again. I don’t hold anything back. He deserves every one of the bleeding welts I’m giving him.

  “I don’t understand!” he sobs when I finally let up for a few moments.

  “You don’t need to,” I say calmly. “You just need to let me know just how you’re feeling.” I swing the cord around again, seeing the glint of red on its tips.

  I’m much, much more furious than I’m showing. It’s tempting to kill Carl right now, orders be damned. Conscience be damned. Everything be fucking damned.

  So, the fucker thought he could trade a couple of lives for his safety? Trade up the women he was using to make him rich? And Jerry just rolled with it? And to top it all off, one of the girls he’s trading is Hadley?

  I have all the info I need right now. I could beat Carl to death with this extension cord like I really, really want to, go grab Hadley, tell her to scatter the girls, then run off with her to wherever the fuck we want.

  But then, I would just be hunted down by Jerry for the rest of his life. I’m good at lying low, but traveling with a partner would complicate things, especially since I’m sure Hadley would want to make sure Vanessa gets taken care of, too.

  Decisions, decisions.

  I lift the cord again, and Carl winces... just before I catch something out of the corner of my eye on one of the camera feeds.

  A familiar figure is making her way into the casino, strutting with bold purpose. I’d know that stride anywhere, even if I can’t see her face.

  It’s Hadley.

  I clench my jaw. If she’s here, that means she’s in danger, because Jerry and his guys are going to be looking for her. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if I get the order to grab her, but that would be all too convenient. I have to get out there to intercept her. If she doesn’t know what she’s walking into, it could be the end of the line for her. Even I might not be able to save her from whatever Jerry has in store.

  Of course, knowing what I know about Hadley, she’d just as soon bite someone’s dick off and get herself killed—still not a good outcome.

  So, that leaves me with the question of what to do with Carl here.

  I have to make a call fast. If Carl dies, then I’m going to have to move fast, because that will mean Jerry knows I’m his enemy. Either way, my working relationship with Jerry is about to end. But if he lives, it might buy me a little more time to figure things out with Hadley and maybe get a better plan of escape from this tight spot we find ourselves in. That, and I know Hadley doesn’t want him to die. Whether she just has a conscience or doesn’t want his blood on her hands, I don’t know.

  But damn, the satisfaction of icing this fucker right now would make it worth it.

  He looks up at me with pathetic, evil, pleading eyes, and my grip on the extension cord tightens. I step forward and hoist my weapon once again, smirking down at the bastard.

  “Smile for me, Carl. One more time.”

  Hadley

  “Hit me again,” I murmur calmly, looking the blackjack dealer right in the eyes.

  He looks at me with an expression of mild confusion and recognition, like he knows me from somewhere but can’t quite place me. That makes perfect sense. He does know me. Or at least he knows of me. I’ve sat at his table before here in the casino, my body glowing under the glimmering lights, distracting my dealer and competition alike with the way my slinky black dresses show off my figure.

  But tonight, I’m not dressed like that. All my designer gowns and cocktail frocks are neatly packed away into my suitcase. My stilettos, too. Even my makeup is toned down tonight, just a little mascara and a smudge of coral-pink tinted lip balm. I have pulled my hair back into a tight knot at the base of my skull, most of it covered with a slouchy beanie instead of wet-set into glamorous Hollywood waves. Instead of a fancy gown, I’m just wearing a pair of comfy jeans, accompanied by a plain, fitted white t-shirt and a pair of sneakers.

  Tonight, I’m not playing my usual role. I’m not shooting for glamor and allure. I’m just a lowly, regular tourist off the street, playing the five-dollar games for kicks.

  The dealer says, “Yes, ma’am,” and hits me. The game starts over. I won the last round. I intend to keep winning, even though the victories are small. Inconsequential, even, compared to the millions I usually deal in. These fiver games are usually reserved for the amateurs, the first-timers, the bachelor parties who show up here with a couple hundred dollars to lose, who will inevitably be kicked out for being too rowdy before they get a chance to win back any of their losses. This is the table for people too poor or too scared to take big risks.

  Usually, this is not my kind of table. I deal in the big bucks, and I never shy away from a big risk, either. It takes a lot to shake me, and a table full of senile retirees and sweaty college kids sure as hell doesn’t even make a blip on my radar. I could wipe the floor with these players if I really wanted to. But in order to keep up my charade as just a regular tourist dropping in for a casual evening of Lincoln games, I have to lose every now and again. Besides, it might be good for my karmic scoreboard to let one of these goons win onc
e in a while.

  And I’m not here to make money, anyway. I’m not here to scam a bunch of losers or flirt with wealthy men or intimidate the competition. I’m here on a mission. I’m here to watch.

  After rescuing Vanessa from that hellhole of a gas station bathroom and sending her on her way to freedom, I realized that I don’t want to try and outrun my demons like that. Vanessa is different. She’s a sweetheart, and she’s brilliant at card-counting, but she’s not like me. She’s not as resilient. She aims to please. She just wants to live a soft, quiet, simple life in the safety of another city. Vanessa will have to change her name, take on a totally new identity. That’s difficult to do, but I have no doubt that she’ll be able to handle it. Especially with the massive financial boost I gave her to get started in her new life. All evening, as I sit here at the blackjack table, I have to remind and reassure myself that I did the right thing by sending Vanessa packing. What else could I have done for her? Clearly it isn’t safe here in Vegas anymore. Carl won’t protect us. He can’t. And he’s the one trying to use us as a human shield in the first place: our bodies, our spirits in exchange for his freedom. His debts, mine to repay.

  But I’m not going down without a fight. That’s why I’ve come back here. I may be in a sort of disguise, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve essentially just walked right back into the viper’s den. I used to be a predator in this environment, stalking through the casino looking for an easy win, a weak competitor to bring to his knees. Tonight, though, I come here as prey. I know this casino is crawling with mafia guys, enforcers who will do anything to stay on their boss’s good side. And by now, I’m certain they must have discovered that Vanessa is missing. That’s bound to piss off the mafia boss, losing one half of his debt repayment.

  I’m the other half, hiding in plain sight. I’m doing my very own reconnaissance mission, even though it means I have to sneak around right under the mafia’s collective nose. But if there’s one thing my years in this industry has taught me, it’s the value of knowing thy enemy. And my enemy just happens to be here in this casino somewhere, skulking through the shadows, brimming on the edge of a crowd, eyes peeled for the likes of Vanessa or me.