Page 5 of His Bet To Take
I nod. “Wh—Why? Why do you care? I don’t know you.” The words are a stutter as I do my best to speak to him.
He gently pushes me aside and the other man stands, gripping me by my arms, but just to keep me in place. His touch doesn’t hurt.
“What is going on? What do you want?”
He unbuttons his blazer and pulls out a gun, cocking it, the silver metal gleaming in the sun.
My eyes widen. “You’re going to kill me? What did my brother do?”
His brows lift in surprise. “Beautiful and smart connecting the two, Mae.”
“No man like you ever comes to these parts. If you know my name dressed like that, then my scum of a brother has done something.”
“Everyone out!” he yells, and everyone must feel the dominance rippling in waves because no one asks questions. They stand, some even taking their plates.
The door dings repeatedly which has Joe stomping out from the kitchen, arms raised. “What the fuck? Mae, you better have a reason—” he turns to me, only to see a gun pointed in his face. “Mr. Roulette.”
I inhale sharply again, a new fear coursing through me when things start clicking into place. Ian Roulette, the ruthless casino owner and smuggler.
“Joe. It’s to my understanding you don’t treat Mae very well.” Ian presses his barrel between Joe’s eyes. “I don’t like how you speak to her. And I’m under the impression you’ve touched her too.”
“Oh, come on, Mr. Roulette. Look at her. She’s gorgeous. I mean, I gotta pass the time. You understand.”
“How have you touched her?”
“Mr. Ro—”
He cocks the gun. “How?”
“I’ve slapped her ass a few times. That’s it. I swear.” He holds up his hands and sweat drips down his temple.
Ian laughs, which causes Joe to laugh, and my stomach turns sour. God, I’m going to die. This is it. My brother somehow got involved with the most powerful man on the planet and now he’s gambled with my life. That has to be it.
I should have known running from my brother’s issues would catch up with me.
“A man should never touch what doesn’t belong to him. Now, apologize.”
“What?”
“What?” I echo Joe’s shock in response.
“I said—” Ian leans in, nose nearly touching Joe’s –“Fucking, apologize!” he shouts so loud, I can see the vein throb in his neck and I flinch.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mae. I didn’t mean—”
“You meant it,” Ian corrects him.
“I’m sorry for everything I’ve done, Mae.” He licks his lips, fear shining off the pores of his skin. He lowers his head, knees quaking, and he falls to the floor, the gun still pressed against his temple.
“It’s okay, Joe,” I say, and Ian turns to look at me, those piercing blue eyes zeroing in as if I’m his next target.
“Sweet Mae. It isn’t okay.”
The gunshot causes my ears to ring and blood sprays across the floor. Joe’s body crumples, his eyes still open and I witness his pupils blow wide.
He’s dead.
Ian killed him.