You've Got Fail(69)

I kissed her. My Daphne. She wrapped her arms around me and softened, her body warming against mine as I tasted the salty tears on her lips. She opened her mouth, and I cupped the back of her neck. She was mine, and I was hers. Our breaths melded, my heart beating for her as we kissed. I forgot about my career being in shambles, forgot about the danger swimming around us like sharks. All I could think about was her, this amazing woman in my arms. The one who’d stolen my wallet, my heart, and my soul.

“Sorry to break up the make-out sesh, but don’t we have a damsel to rescue?” Jason walked in and stopped, mainly because there was no room for him to go any farther since Scar—Daphne and I took up all the space in the tiny entryway.

Daphne broke our kiss. “Right. Hannah.” She grabbed the knife.

“Hang on there, slasher.” Jason held a hand out. “Let’s try to talk to the guy first. Besides, I get the feeling you’d be bringing a knife to a gun fight.”

“Come on. Let’s go.” Elias hovered in the hallway.

“Did you bring an army?” Daphne seemed hopeful.

“Just these two knuckleheads.”

“Maybe it’ll help.” She didn’t sound too sure as she led the way down the stairs and struck off to the right.

“Do we need to call a cab?”

“No. It’s four blocks.”

We hustled through the neighborhood under a cloudy sky.

Tension rippled in the air, and I took Daphne’s hand in mine. “She’s going to be okay.”

She squeezed my hand. “I’m done with him terrorizing us. We don’t have the money. We have no way to get the money. And that’s that.”

“Is he the sort of guy that can be reasoned with?” Elias asked.

She shook her head, her red hair trailing behind her as we approached a row of brick apartments. “He’s an asshole.”

“Good. Then we speak the same language.” Elias was practically bowed up, his Rolling Stones t-shirt giving only a hint about the newfound badass underneath.

“Take it down a notch, brother.” Jason put a hand on his shoulder. “Cooler heads need to prevail.”

“Let me do the talking.” Daphne dropped down a few steps to a basement apartment with a thick metal door. She knocked, her knuckles barely making a sound against the rusty entrance.

After a few moments, a grate slid open at eye-level. “What?” A gruff voice.

“We need to see Pauly.”

“You come to play?”

“No.”

“Then get the fuck out of here.”

“Wait.” I stepped up next to Scarlet. “I’ll play.”

“You bring cash?”

Shit. I’d run out of my apartment without my wallet. Jason’s hand appeared over my shoulder, a fat money clip in his grasp. “I did. Should be enough for all of us to get a seat, at least.”

The man behind the door laughed. “You can sit at the kiddie table, lose your money, then leave.”

“Sounds fine to me.” Jason pocketed his money clip.

The door creaked open, and we walked into a smoky underground hallway. A disgusting bathroom opened to the left, and a wide room sat to the right. Three tables were set up, two of them full of men talking and gambling. Hannah stood at the nearest table, dealing cards. Who I assumed was Pauly watched over her shoulder. He looked mid-forties, the black hair on his head graying with a shiny bald patch in the center. Round at the middle, he had the body type of a man who used to be all muscle, but let it go to fat as he aged.

Hannah didn’t take her eyes off her work, but Pauly puffed on his cigar and glanced at Daphne. He walked around the table and met us in the doorway. “Time’s up.”

“I had another day.”

“You got the money?” He blew a stream of smoke into my face, but kept his eyes on Daphne.

I balled my hands into fists, ready to knock the shit out of him or die trying.

“No, but I don’t want Hannah working here.”

“Too bad.” He shrugged.

“I want to make a deal.”

“What deal?” His beady eyes narrowed. “Look, I’ll make you a deal. Either you play, or you get out.”

“No.” She stepped toward him. “I’m not leaving without my sister.”

A man moved toward us from the edge of the room, his hand slipping inside his coat pocket.

“Then you ain’t leaving.” Pauly smiled.

I stepped in front of her, forcing him to look at me. “Let Hannah go, and there won’t be any trouble.”

“No trouble?” He laughed, the sound raspy. “You already caused trouble coming up in here where you aren’t wanted.”

“We’re taking her with us.” Elias stepped beside me, aggression coming off him in waves.

Hannah glanced up and focused on him for a split second before dealing the next card.

“Frank.” Pauly kept his voice low. His patrons didn’t even look up, as if these sorts of dustups were just part of the game.

The man with the hand in his coat moved closer, then pulled out a pistol.

“Get them out of here.”

Pauly turned, and Frank advanced on us.

“I came to play.” Jason pushed to the front and sat down at the third table that had only two men playing. He tossed his money clip at the dealer. “Cash me in.”