Page 33 of His Stakes (His Obsession 2)

I looked around my apartment. It seemed so tiny to me now, even though it was an older building so it was over 700 square feet, which was big for a one-bedroom apartment in Austin. Enzo had had the key. Apparently, I wasn’t even to be trusted with letting myself into my own home. “Yeah, well, my sister didn’t pay me enough to own a fancy lake house. And I was really only here to sleep most of the time. And that was only when Nicole wasn’t having some kind of dramatic crisis because she got turned down for a part or something. At least until recently.”

It just occurred to me that the last few months before her death, she’d been slowly but surely not needing me as much. Little by little, I’d had more time to myself. And now I knew why—because she was dating Mario. And me, well, I’d just been so damn happy to have a little freedom, I never questioned why.

“So let’s get going,” Enzo told the three guys who had followed us over in the moving truck. “Veda, is there any furniture here you don’t want?”

“Um…” I looked around. My decor was what one would call “shabby chic meets whatever I could find at Goodwill.” The walls and rug were the standard apartment beige, my couch was bright pink, my walls were covered with tapestries of misty mountains and sunlit forests I’d never get to see, and my small television was using bright green milk crates as a stand. They also doubled as my bookshelf and were filled to overflowing with the paperbacks I grabbed every time I went to the thrift store and never had time to read.

Right off the living room was a small galley kitchen that had a breakfast nook at one end, aka the plant room. Except they were fake plants because I didn’t have time to keep real ones alive. In the kitchen was a microwave, a few pots and pans, and a set of dishes Nicole was going to throw away a few years before during one of her home cleanses. I didn’t particularly like the design, but at least I didn’t have to eat off of paper plates.

My bedroom was off to the left, with a bathroom right outside of it. I actually did like my bed. It was made of gray-washed wood with a matching dresser and had been a gift from my dad when I’d first gotten this place. It kind of reminded me of what you’d find in a rental on the coast. But the mattress was getting worn and there was no room in Luca’s house for another bed.

So that left my clothes and other personal stuff. “I want to keep the couch, the TV, and the bedroom set, but not the mattress. If that can go into storage maybe?” I looked to Enzo for confirmation, and he nodded. “I’ll take the tapestries and my books and photos back to Luca’s, along with my clothes and other personal stuff.”

Enzo snapped his fingers. “You heard the lady. Start packing everything up. The things she wants in storage, we’ll put in the back of the truck and you guys can take it there after we drop her back off at the house.”

One of the guys started taping up boxes to use and I grabbed a couple and took them into the bedroom with me to start boxing up my clothes and shoes.

I was on the floor in my closet, separating my clothes into what I wanted to keep and what I didn’t, when the ruddy-faced dude who’d been with Enzo in the house earlier stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

My head snapped up. “What—”

I was cut off when he dropped down onto his haunches and pulled a small gun out of the back of his pants and aimed it at my face. “Shut your mouth or I’ll put so many holes in that pretty face of yours, no one will be able to identify you.”

My jaw snapped shut.

“What do you know about the deal Luca has going down at the end of the month?”

I stared at him like he’d lost his fucking mind, but managed to keep my voice down. “I don’t know anything.”

“Ah, come on, honey. You can do better than that. What will Mario say when I tell him you’re not coming through for him?”

I stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment. And then I started to shake. I couldn’t stop it. It started at my hands and moved up through my arms until it fanned out across my torso. My teeth chattered and my bowels twisted in fear. For some stupid reason, I’d believed that once I got back to Luca’s no one would be able to get to me. “I told Mario. Lu…Luca doesn’t share any of that with me.”

“Of course he doesn’t. He’s not fucking stupid. But come on, Veda. You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure something out.” Still aiming the gun at the center of my forehead, he picked up a black, lacy tank that I usually wore under one of my low-cut shirts and brought it to his face. He inhaled deeply, his deep-set, brown eyes never leaving my face, then dropped it on the floor and grabbed his crotch, obviously adjusting himself in his jeans. “The next time I find you, you’d better have something for me. Or do I need to remind you about the deal you made?”

I shook my head with jerky movements.

Standing up, he shoved the gun back into the waistband of his pants, put his finger to his lips, and opened the door, listening for a second before stepping out. As soon as he was gone, I surged forward and shut it behind him, then backed into the farthest corner and pulled my knees up to my mutilated chest, which suddenly throbbed in pain.

Jesus, how could I have thought he’d forget about me?

The only reason I was still alive right now was because I’d made a deal with Mario the same day he’d dumped me in the woods. Terrified he would kill me, I became desperate. So when he offered me a way to be useful to him, I took it. I didn’t even think about it. Anything to get the hell away from him and his manic mood swings that flew back and forth between fits of rage and sobbing confessions and everything in between.

So I agreed to be his spy. Any and all information I saw or overheard was to be reported directly to him through one of his men who would be in contact with me.

His men were everywhere, he’d assured me, and they would find me.

I was to tell them what I knew, and they would report back to Mario. However, I’d foolishly assumed that Luca’s security was locked down tight and that his men were loyal. I’d assumed that Mario was out of his mind, and that once I got away from him, I would be safe.

Oh, god. I needed to tell Luca what was going on. No, no. I can’t. Slapping my hands over my face, I squeezed my eyes shut, remembering what I’d agreed to, and what the consequences would be if I snitched.

Mario, the bastard, was smarter than I’d given him credit for.

He’d sworn to me that if I forgot, and happened to let anything slip to Luca about any of this, he wouldn’t kill me. Oh, no. That would be too easy. In the short time we’d been together, Mario had gleaned quite a bit about me. Like how, for the majority of time I’d been with him, all I’d really wanted was to die. To remove myself from their game. To no longer be a piece on the board.

So, no. That move was too easy.

He wouldn’t come after me…he would kill my parents.

---