All In (17 page)

My mom gasped, “Oh, Harlow!” she started to cry.

I felt my heart stop in my chest as I watched the camera zoom in on her. She had blood on her face, and vomit all down the front of her pink t-shirt and jean shorts that she had on earlier. Chase ripped the vomit covered bandana out of her mouth, making her gag again. Apparently, it was choking her.

“Chase, why are you doing this to me,” she cried.

“Hey! No crying, sister. Don't you want to say something to Vice? He is right here in the camera. Make sure you tell him how good I have been treating you.” he leaned closer to her and whispered, “Don't want him to think I am a bad host or he won't come play poker,” he smiled into the camera.

“Vice,” she cried. “I am so scared, please help me,” she was hysterical.

Chase waived the pistol in her face, I jumped from the chair. “That is not what we worked on, Harlow!” he yelled at her and kicked the legs of her chair, making her scream. “Don't make me mad again, tell him what we practiced,”

I growled, throwing my coffee mug across the living room. It shattered against the wall and coffee went everywhere. “Fuck!” I cried, standing in front of the television. Tears were streaming down my face, I felt like a part of me was slowly dying. My mom stood by my side, rubbing my back as she cried, too. We both stood there staring at Harlow.

“Vice,” Harlow was crying so hard I could barely understand her.

“What, baby,” I cried aloud. “What am I supposed to do? Tell me so I can help you, please.” I sobbed.

She just cried, staring into the camera. I felt her eyes burning a hole through me. I could feel how scared, and hopeless she felt as I felt it, too.

“Stop crying, for fuck sakes, Harlow Jean!” Chase said from behind the camera.

She dropped her chin to her chest taking a deep breath in trying so hard to do what he was asking her to do that it broke my heart even more. I wanted to reach through the TV and pull her into my arms. “Please, calm down,” I whispered. “It'll be okay, babe,”

“Chase and I want to invite you to come and play poker here at Nostalgia,” she was trying not to cry again.

“And what else?” Chase pushed.

“Please, do not call the cops or...” she was crying again. “or...” she sobbed.

“Spit it out, Harlow Jean,” he threw a half empty red solo cup at her, it hitting her legs and beer spilling all across her shirt and down her thighs.

“Stop it, Chase!” she screamed, shrilling the speakers of the television. She took another deep breath in and exhaled slowly. She stared at the screen seeming to calm down.

“Just talk to me, babe. Don't pay attention to him, it's just me,” I sobbed.

“Vice, come to Nostalgia, do not bring the cops or he will kill the baby, and me,” she took another deep breath. “I want you to know that I love you,”

Chase walked out of the room and I could hear Harlow screaming like I have never heard a female scream before. “I fucking hate you! I hate you!”

He placed the camera back on himself. “Sibling rivalry,” he shook his head. “I'll see you in a bit, Jackson! Later!”

I ran as fast as my shaking legs could carry me to my room. I cried, putting a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt on. My mind was racing a million miles per hour and the vision of Harlow played in my thoughts over and over again. I could still hear her cries ringing through my head.

“Vice,” my mom stood in the doorway of my room.

“Mom, please,” I sobbed, not wanting to hear anything she has to say. All I want is the love of my life and my unborn child back home, with me... where they belong. Where they should have been all morning. This was my fault that he had ended up with her in his hands. If only I would have kept my fucking mouth shut, this wouldn't have happened. I angrily threw my socks and gray Van's on and stood up grabbing my car keys and my wallet off of my dresser by the bedroom door.

“Son,” she too was still crying. She quickly grabbed me, wrapping me in a tight hug trying to comfort me the best she knew how. “She will be fine, I know she will be.”

I pulled away from her. “Mom,” I wiped my cheeks. “Please, do not call the cops when I leave. I cannot have anything upset him to where he will hurt her, do you understand?” I walked past her, down the hallway and to the front door.

“I won't call the cops, son. He has a bigger surprise coming,” she said from behind me.

“What surprise are you talking about mom?” I turned back around.

“Jason Miller,” she smiled. “Their father,”

I made it to Nostalgia in less than twenty minutes. My tires came to a screeching halt as I pulled the emergency break without even stopping. I threw the car in park, running to the steps without even closing my car door. I burst through the doors of the place and looked around the empty casino.

“Harlow!” I yelled, running past the bar and into The Lily Room where Chase had a poker table set up, and Harlow still bound to the chair next to it.

“Hey, babe,” I ran to her, kneeling down and running my hands down her tear stained cheeks. I pulled the same bandana from her mouth that Chase had in the video. “It's okay,” I hugged her tightly.

“Chase this is in-fucking-humane, you sick son of a bitch,” I went to untie her legs from the chair but stopped when I heard the click of the pistol behind my head.

“Chase, no!” Harlow cried out.

“Don't touch the fucking rope, Jackson,”

I held my hands up, standing to my feet. I turned around to face Chase. I knew he was sitting at the table, but seeing Harlow, I didn't care.

“I have no problem with staying here and playing poker, but at least let Harlow sit next to me while we play,”

“No, I think she is fine where she is,” he shook his head, gesturing to the table with the tip of the pistol. “Sit the fuck down, Vice,”

I bent down, placing a kiss on Harlow's lips. “I am so sorry, babe,” I kissed her again. “It'll be okay,”

She nodded. “I believe you,” she whispered.

“The baby, Harlow. Just relax, I'm here now,” I kissed her forehead, then took a seat as close to Harlow as I could.

“Nope. Across the table from me, Jackson,” Chase was at the end of the table pointing to the other side. “We are doing this by my rules,”

“Come the fuck on, Miller,” I sighed, plopping down into the chair at the other end of the table like he had asked. I glanced at Harlow, she was still so frightened.

Chase rose from his seat and started to pace. “I have a few treats for us today, Vice.” Chase clapped his hands loudly. “These are my rules, and I like to play fucked up!” he laughed aloud, his puppet coming into The Lily Room with a silver tray full of rails of coke, pills of some sort, and a bottle of tequila.

“Vice,” Harlow cried.

I looked at her pleading eyes. I will do what I have to, to make sure that he doesn't touch a hair on Harlow's head. “It's okay, babe,” I said lowly.

“Aren't we forgetting something?” Chase looked around then up at the tall, fat guy in a greasy Nostalgia t-shirt. “What do you think, Craig? What could I possibly be missing, fat ass?”

He glanced around the room for a moment. “Oh, oh!” he nodded. “Chicks, and cigars! Be right back,”

“Chicks?” I raised my brows, highly uncomfortable.

“You betcha'! The hottest ones in Vegas,” he was cutting the rails of coke with a razor making them finer. “Oh, and don't worry. It's a good thing to make your woman jealous every once in awhile if ya' know what I mean,” he nodded toward Harlow.

“Chase, you can't be serious!” Harlow cried. “You are going to have chicks in here!?”

“Nothing like a steamy blow job while playing cards,” he winked at her.

“I won't let any of your whores touch me, Miller,” I spat. The only hands I want on me are Harlow Jean's hands.

He pointed the gun at Harlow's face, she shrieked. “You won't what, Jackson?” he asked, not taking his eyes from the tray.

“Nothing,” I sighed, running my hands through my hair as I was beyond fucking irate. He has me by the balls and I have no choice but to do what he fucking wants.

“There we go! Woo!” Chase looked up from the tray at the fat guy coming in with a box of cigars and two pin-ups trailing behind him.

“Chase Miller,” they cooed, running their hands down his chest as he lit a cigar. He threw one to me. I grabbed it and lit the damn thing. One thing down and I was sure a trillion to go.

I looked at the girls. Both complete with pink cheeks, red lips, and eyes like cats. Their make up was flawless, and their smiles were bright. One had short brown hair and the other, red. I took in the red heads lingerie; a black thong that showed her plump ass and a bra spilling tit over the top. Why she had on a sheer cover to hide what exactly? I had no clue. I took a quick look at the brunette and noticed she was the female that was with Skip at my apartment a few weeks back. I knew what was under that red lace, she was distinct; bald, and nipples the size of dimes. It made me stop and think about Harlow. Did she act like this when she was at work? Did she dress like this for all the men to gawk and stare at her baldness and nipples? I looked over at Harlow, I suddenly felt sick to my stomach.

“Now, ladies. Isn't my friend here one handsome guy, or what?” he smiled at Harlow.

“Chase, I-” Harlow stopped, the pistol was back in her face.

“Harlow, if you can't keep your mouth shut, you will go into my office,”

I looked at the girls and they didn't seem to care that Harlow was tied up, or that Chase had a gun in her face. There is something seriously wrong with this scene, and there was nothing I could do about it.

“Where was I ladies?” he stared at me from across the table. I didn't take my eyes from him.

“We were talking about your sexy ass friend over there, Chase,” the brunette that was sitting on his lap cooed. “Can I have em'?” she licked her lips then winked in my direction knowing exactly who I was.

Chase smiled with a shrug. “I don't know Bridget. Let me ask our little red head friend, Sam,” he nestled his nose into her neck. “Would you mind if Bridget takes Vice over there, Sam?”

“Nope. You're mine, Chase Miller.” she purred.

He clapped his hands. “Good, it's settled. Let's get this party started!”

“Bridget?” I looked to Harlow who's voice was incredibly shaky. “It's been awhile since I've seen you, Doll. How are you?”

I knew what Harlow was doing. She was trying to make small talk to keep her away from me. But a lot of good that did, because she quickly answered with a 'fine' and on my lap her ass went. I loved her for trying. I gave Harlow a look of apology as there was nothing I could do about it. I set both hands onto the felt to reassure Harlow that I wasn't going to touch her.

“Shots?” Chase smiled, passing a shot full of tequila to each girl and to myself. “Harlow?” he held one out to her.

She huffed, glaring at her brother. Looking between them both, they do share a striking resemblance. “I'm pregnant, I can't drink. Freaking dumb ass,”

“Is that why you quit a few weeks ago, Harlow?” Bridget smiled. “Who's is it?”

“My boyfriend, Vice's,” she nodded toward me. “The guy who's lap you're fucking around on, Bridget,”

“Oh,” Bridget looked at me, suddenly it becoming very apparent that she was uncomfortable. She looked over at Chase as she stood off of my lap. Thank God...

“Sit the fuck back down on his lap, Bridget,” he pointed the gun at her.

“No, Chase. They are having a baby together I can't do that to them,” she shook her head, looking over at Harlow.

“She has what is called morals, Chase,” Harlow smirked. “M-o-r-a-l-s,”

“Shut the fuck up, Harlow Jean!” the gun went from Bridget to Harlow making my heart race. Every time he pointed that thing in her face, I wanted to pounce on his ass.

“Sit the fuck down on his lap, now!” the gun went quickly back to Bridget. “I will pull this trigger if you don't,”

“I don't mind,” the red head named Sam got up from Chase's lap and walked over to me. She lifted her leg baring her lips as she straddled my lap. Right to the table top my hands went.

“Now that, is one smart girl,” he laughed. “Come here, Bridget,”

If I had to endure this much torture, I might as well get fucked up in the process because there was no way that I could do this otherwise.

“Another shot,” I slammed the shot glass down on the table watching Chase swallow Bridget with his mouth. I slid the shot glass across the felt interrupting Bridget and Chase's kiss.

“That's what I'm talking about,” he poured the shot having Bridget bring it to me.

I downed it. “Here,” I slid it back again before Bridget had the chance to sit back down.

“You're not getting drunk on me on purpose, are you Jackson?”

“I have no other choice, Miller. Pour me the fucking shot,” I looked over at Harlow who looked like she were about to fall apart. “Can we just start the damn poker game, please?”

“Vice?” Harlow said quietly. I looked over at her, her eyes were swollen and I had yet to figure out where the blood was coming from. “You don't have to do this, you don't,” she shook her head, starting to cry. “I would rather die than see you torture yourself this way,”

“I am doing what I have to do to protect you and the baby. Just promise me something, please,” I whispered from around the red head. “Whatever happens...” I pointed at Sam behind her back. “none of this is under my control, babe. I love you, and I am so sorry,”

I was trying my hardest to keep myself calm. I could handle the drinking and one night of coke, but, the one thing that was tearing me apart the most is the thought of Harlow having to watch another woman touching me. I know if it were me in that chair and a man was touching Harlow, I would be begging for someone to kill me so I didn't have to watch it. This is Chase's extremely sick game of torturing myself and his own fucking sister.

“Let's get a little blow in the nose before we start this game, right?” he evenly re-cut the lines as I was sure the girls would be doing it, too. He bent his head down, plugging the other side of his nose, then quickly sniffed up the line.

“Ah,” he sniffed. “Yup, that's good... here,” he handed Bridget the tooter.

I looked at Harlow and stared at her, listening to them sniffing and chatting in the background. Tears were streaming down her face right in front of me and there wasn't a damn thing that I could do about it.