Fall Into Place (Taking the Fall #5)(14)

Maybe ‘prison’ is a harsh word for it. I don't hate my father. I love him, but he's suffocating me. I'm not like my mother, who is content just staying at home. Maybe she’s that way because she has my dad. I have them, too, but it's different. They were each other’s soul mate. They have the kind of love I would never have myself if my father had anything to say about it. He kept my mother and me both under lock and key, saying he was just keeping us safe. That he’d killed many in his life and he didn’t want something to happen to us.

He littered the house with security and bodyguards so I was never alone. Odd how I’m now in one of the busiest cities in the world and I feel more alone than ever. Is that what I wanted? No. I wanted what my parents have but for myself. I also want to be free of the fortress walls my father has erected. I’ve never seen any of the danger he’s always talking about, but he trained me for it.

Most kids played board games and drew in their coloring books, and while I did sometimes, more often than not my father was teaching me how to fight, steal, and go unnoticed. I used the very things he taught me to escape from home, and now I'm going to use them to make a little money.

Opening the bathroom stall, I look at myself in the mirror. I look like a lot of the other girls walking around Vegas. I apply more make-up than I'd normally wear and brush out my hair. The easy part is going to be stealing from whatever man I'm going to target. The hard part is going to be talking to him. I might be trained to take care of myself, but I wasn’t trained to seduce.

The only men I've been around were my father’s bodyguards, and they were more the grunt-when-they-talked type. I’ve watched movies, though. I can do this. I fluff my hair and pull the top of my dress down a little, trying to push my boobs up. I don't have a ton of cleavage. I’m kind of small all over.

Making my way out of the bathroom, I head to the first bar I see, taking a seat and eyeing the men around me. Two bar stools down is a chubby man in a suit that looks like it might be a smidge too small. He gives me a look that tells me he likes what he sees. When he shifts I notice his watch and drop eye contact, turning away. Fake Rolex. I need someone with a bigger wallet to steal and a watch I can actually pawn somewhere.

Maybe I should try another bar. There seems to be one about every thirty feet in Vegas. Going to stand, I turn and run into a wall of a man. He doesn’t even budge. He reaches out, grabbing me by my hips so I don’t fall on my ass in these four-inch heels.

“Fuck, you smell delicious,” the man says in a deep voice, pulling me closer. I should step away, but instead I place my hands on his chest, dragging my eyes up to him. I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze, even in my high heels.

Looking up, I lock eyes with the coolest blues I’ve ever seen. I don’t feel like they match the rest of him. His eyes are the only soft thing about him. His grip tightens on my hips, and fire like I’ve never felt shoots through my body. Desire. That’s what this is.

I’m already this close. I might as well go all in. I let my body mold into his, and he takes my mouth in a deep kiss. My first. I have no idea what I’m doing so I let him take control. Like I even had a choice to begin with. He dominates and controls it as he parts my lips with his tongue. It’s fierce and passionate, and I’ve never felt so consumed.

“Wow.” Pulling my head back, I realize what I’m doing and drop my hands, which had been gripping his ass. I take a step back, using my hand to push away from him. What the f*ck just happened? Shaking off the fog, I get my thoughts back in order. “Thanks for the kiss.”

I turn to leave, and he grabs me by the waist, pulling me back to him.

“You’re coming with me, or I’ll tell security you just stole my wallet and watch.” My heart jumps into my throat at his words, making me clutch my bag. Where I did, indeed, have his wallet and watch.

“Blin.” I repeat the Russian word for ‘shit’ again. The only Russian I know is from my father. Words he used when we were training, so they are mostly curses.

The man pulls me with him, and I have to half-run to keep up with his long strides. He walks me through the casino, and I make no motions to break free, not wanting to draw attention. Maybe when we’re alone I can get away from him.

He’s big, though. I’ll have to take him by surprise.





Chapter 2





Samuel




When I left Tony in the truck, I knew what I had to do. There wasn’t any messing around. Something happened when I saw her picture, and I can’t explain it. At first glance, it was as if I knew her, like I’d seen her before somehow. But the more I looked at the picture, the more I realized that I’d never met her, but she was mine. My dad tells me all the time about how it was that way for him when he saw my mom. He was a lot older than she was—she was sixteen at the time—but he said one look and he was done. I laughed at him for so long, but as I walk into the casino, my heart beating, my palms sweating, I know what he was talking about.

Nika. She’s the one.

I go straight for the bar, not passing go and not collecting two hundred dollars. I’m on a mission, and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with getting a bounty. I spot her from fifty paces and see her eyeing a guy at the bar. My dad taught me everything he knows from the time I could walk, and I know she’s checking out a mark. She’s eyeing him up, and the guy must come up short if the look of disappointment on her face is anything to go by.