Page 1 of High Stakes

CHAPTER ONE

Bella

I close my eyes and put my head back letting the rain splash against my face. It’s been weeks since we’ve had a good down pour, and it feels good against my clammy skin. I press the volume button on my headphones, blasting Drake into my ears. I can’t wait to get in and shower. As much as I love my job, I hate being covered in sticky cake mix and icing sugar.

As I approach the small semi-detached house, which I share with my dad, I notice the black pick-up parked outside. It looks out of place in our run-down area, but itmust be a visitor for the neighbour. The new girl that has moved in next door seems to have a lot of male callers and most look suspiciously loaded, not that I’m judging.

I open the front door and fight with my bag. Why can I never just stick my hand in and find my phone? It’s literally like Narnia in there with wrappers, deodorant, pens, my kindle, amongst other stuff and all I want to do is turn the music off.

I come to an abrupt stop; Standing in front of me is the biggest guy I have ever seen. For a second, I wonder if he’s a statue because he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak; he just stands there looking completely cool, rocking a black suit and shades, blocking my entrance to the kitchen.

“Erm, hey.” I smile nervously.

He doesn’t speak but gives a slight nod of his head to acknowledge that he’s heard me.

“Dad?” I call out, not taking my eyes off mister muscle mountain.

“He’s in the kitchen,” he says, making me jump. He’s got such a deep voice, it rumbles through me, and I shiver. He notices my reaction because he sniggers, giving a knowing nod. He isn’t bad looking so I’m sure he’s used to getting that kind of reaction from women.

He moves to one side and points in the direction of the kitchen, like I don’t know where the hell my own kitchenis. I slowly edge past, keeping my eyes on him for any sudden movements. Not that I would do much if he suddenly made a grab for me, my height stands at just five-five, and I have a tiny, slim frame. It’s nothing compared to his large, well-built, mountain of a body. He clearly works out…a lot.

I open the kitchen door to find Dad sitting at the kitchen table looking glum. “Dad, who the hell is that man mountain in the hall?” I ask in a hushed tone, hoping the beastly guy doesn’t hear me, “I literally almost screamed the house down. And why is he just standing there not doing anything, it’s weird. What’s going on?”

I place my bag on the table and look up. My dad is staring past me, so I follow his line of vision and then let out a little yelp when I notice another huge guy. He’s stood at the far end of the kitchen, leaning against the wall and watching me with amusement.

“Oh dear god,” I squeak.

“Bella, this is Aiden Tremos.” I don’t miss the guilty look that crosses my dad’s face. I glance again at the stranger. He is so completely gorgeous that I daren’t look him full in the eye in case I make a complete idiot out of myself. He’s well-built, like the man mountain guarding the hall, but taller, with the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Tattoos crawl across his arms and up his neck andhe’s dressed well, in navy suit trousers with a white shirt, the sleeves are rolled up, giving him a casual, yet dangerous look.

Aiden gives me a cocky grin and folds his arms across his broad chest. “Have you finished?” he asks, humour lacing his words.

I feel my face burn with embarrassment,he caught me ogling. I turn back to dad, who still isn’t meeting my eye. “Please tell me you don’t owe money again, Dad?”

He looks at Mr. Tremos who moves towards me, “Maybe you’d like to sit down?” he offers, pulling out a chair.

I take a step back, “No, I want to know what the hell’s going on?”

He grips the back of the chair and bites his lower lip, “Sit, Isabella.” The way he commands leaves no room for argument and I find myself lowering into the chair. I don’t think I should piss this guy off; he’s come with backup and who knows what they are into.Drugs, gambling?I’ve recently read that the numbers are on the rise for human trafficking.

“I own a few nightclubs and bars in the area,” he explains, sitting across from me. He looks too big to be at this table, in this kitchen. “Your dad was in one of my barslast night.” I look over at dad; I feel disappointment start to creep in.

He’s been battling an alcohol addiction for as long as I can remember. Mum died ten years ago, but it started way before then. I’ve spent most of my twenty-three years looking after him. Putting him to bed whenever he is too intoxicated and working extra hard to keep this roof over our heads. Lately, things have improved. Dad got a job at the local fish market, and for the last two months, he hasn’t drunk a drop. Stupid me for thinking we had turned a corner.

“Whatever he’s done, I’m sorry okay,” I say, “He isn’t well. If its money, I can pay you back, I just need time.”

He puts his hand up, effectively shutting me up. I bite my lower lip to stop me calling him out on that, I hate rudeness. “Your dad doesn’t owe me anything, but he was spouting some crazy stuff and I’m here because I’m worried he’s put you in danger.”

Relief floods me for a second, knowing that I won’t have to pay off another debt. My wage is only just covering everything as it is. But then the words sink in,he’s put me in danger.I glare at Dad, who grabs my hand, I pull it away before he gets chance to beg my forgiveness. “What kind of danger?”

“He offered to sell you, Bella.” I inhale sharply. Of all the things I was expecting, that definitely wasn’t one of them.

“He what?” I gasp, convinced I misheard.

“Bella, I can explain,” rambles dad, tears forming in his eyes.

“Then please start,” I stand up and begin pacing the floor.

“I was stupidly drunk; I don’t remember much apart from waking up in Mr. Tremos’ office. But I’ve received texts from some nasty pieces of work telling me I owe them.”

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