Page 50 of High Stakes

My heart simultaneously shatters and mends itself at his revelation, and my entire body feels warm and giddy. “I love you, too.” I smile as he kisses me again. “We need to get everyone together back at the house. I want to do something.”

A few hours later,we’re all sitting around the kitchen table with three large pizzas spread out between us. I take a long sip of beer before I stand and shove my chair back. “I had an idea for our costumes,” I announce as Hayden takes another slice of cheese pizza out of the box and folds it in half like a heathen.

“What is it?” Emelia asks, and her eyes shimmer with delight. I’m pretty sure I could say my idea is for us to blow the place up and she’d still be excited.

“Hold on,” I say and head to my bedroom. I dig through my closet for a large cardboard box with the corners taped to keep it together. It’s been through so much, but then again, so have we, and we’re still hanging on. I drop the box into my chair. “These might look a little familiar,” I tell her with a devious smirk.

I dig into the box and toss three white masks onto the table, each one decorated with a single card suit. Diamond. Heart. Spade. Hector’s eyes widen when he recognizes the masks and he looks at me curiously. I dip my hand into the box again and pull out a fourth mask. “Don’t think I’d forget about you, Cavanaugh.” I toss the mask to him.

Hector catches it and turns it over in his hands. A white mask that is the same white material as the others, but with a club suitdecorating the front. I watch his throat bob as he swallows and drags his fingers across the outline of the club.

“Shit, Silas, that’s awesome,” Hayden says and snags his mask from the middle of the table. “Are we suiting up again?”

Declan nods and drags his own mask to his side of the table. “Black tie,” he agrees.

I look at Emelia, who is staring at the masks intently and I can see the gears turning. “Stop it,” I admonish her with a chuckle. “If you keep looking like that then we’ll never get any planning done.”

“I’m just remembering the last time I saw those things,” she admits coyly and smiles up at me. My cock jumps in my pants because I, too, am remembering the last time these things saw the light of day. “I’m also imagining what we can do with them later,” she admits and I have to seriously tap into my self control. I want nothing more than to just lock the door, forget about the entire Cabrera Cartel, and bury myself in her delicious pussy.

And by the looks on Declan and Hayden’s faces, they do too. Hector looks at Emelia curiously, but I can tell he’s getting aroused just by the lustful look in her eyes. “Soon, baby girl, soon,” I whisper, and drag my fingers across the eye holes of my mask. “I have several ideas for these.”

Hector holds his mask up to his face, peering at me through the holes and I have to admit, it’s a sexy sight. “What about her?” he asks and nods toward Emelia, who is stuffing another slice of pizza into her mouth, the cheese dangling tantalizingly from the corner of her mouth.

“I have it covered,” she mutters around the oozing cheese.

“Jesus, are you feral?” Declan asks, and throws a paper towel at her. “No one is going to take it from you. There’s plenty left.” We all chuckle as she rolls her eyes and uses her tongue to lick the rest of the cheese into her mouth. I’ve never been more jealous of a dairy product in all my life.

“My feral girl,” Hayden says affectionately and drapes his arm across her shoulders, leaning in to kiss her temple.

I watch the four of them joke and laugh as they eat, and I can’t help but think about Hayden’s words earlier. Maybe we can mend all of our damaged pieces together, and make one strong family. Not hiding from our pasts or broken pieces, but celebrating the beauty in all the twists and cracks that got us to where we are now.

But before we pour the gold, we have to smash a few more pieces of our souls.

24

EMELIA

It took almost two weeks to nail down invitations to the Cabrera masked ball, and even longer for me to perfect every detail of my costume. I spent a painstaking amount of time hand stitching sequins and feathers to my corset top, but every needle prick was worth it for the end result.

I twirl in a slow circle in front of the mirror, admiring the way my attire shimmers in the low light of my room. The tight fitting red corset accentuates my curves, and the short skirt reveals enough skin to leave little to the imagination. My shoulders and neck are draped with feathers of reds and oranges that flow seamlessly down my sides, giving me an exotic look.

My makeup matches the flaming color palette and really makes my green eyes pop. I make one more slow circle before twisting my hair into a tight bun and shoving it under a wig cap. Mr. Cabrera likes blondes, so a blonde I will be tonight. I fluff out the wig and place it delicately over my scalp, making sure to drop a small amount of wig glue around the edges to secure it. It would be some shit to have it fall off mid spin on the pole.

Hector’s reflection in the mirror catches my eye. He’s wearing all black, with the mask dangling from his fingers. Iturn to face him with an expectant look. He inhales sharply but doesn’t move a muscle, well almost. I can see the strain on the front of his jeans as he takes me in. “Well?” I ask and fluff out the wig again.

“You look…” his voice trails off as he shoves away from the door frame and stalks forward. His hands cup my face and his lips meet mine in a tender yet passionate kiss.

My body melts against his chest and I feel that familiar warmth creep into my bones as his thumbs stroke my cheekbones. I pull away with a chuckle. “Like it?”

“Little Bird,” he mumbles against my lips, his voice raw and reverent. “You look so beautiful. Like a phoenix.”

I smile up at him, glad he picks up on my costume immediately. I’m prepared to burn for this mission, to reduce myself to dust and ash, if only to rise up from the glowing embers.

His eyes drift across my face and he frowns. “You’re not going to burn,” he says, as if reading my thoughts. “No one is going to burn today. We have planned and gone over every detail multiple times.”

“Always the optimist,” I whisper and hug him close, pressing my cheek against his chest and letting his heartbeat ground me.

“Always the pessimist,” he retorts and drops a kiss to the top of my head. “The boys are waiting outside with the car. Are you ready?”

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