Master of the Game (Rush Series Book 3) (18 page)

BOOK: Master of the Game (Rush Series Book 3)
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She saw
Jorge’s lips fall from his smile into thin lines as the intended insult hit
home.

True to
his word, Miguel did not speak to her again through dinner, but instead dug
into his food with unsuppressed gusto. Jorge, on the other hand, picked at his
food, but continually refilled his wine glass. Her mother prattled on about
mindless things such as the new drapes she’d just ordered for the upstairs
bedroom, or what was now going on and with whom. Devon tried to concentrate on
her mother’s words and give them the proper respect, but an overwhelming
feeling in the air, made her edgy and gave her that sense of fight or flight.

The
dessert dishes had barely been swept away by the household staff when Miguel
stood and said abruptly and nearly impatiently, “Now we will discuss why you
are here.”

Sharon
looked at Devon nervously and she gave her mother a tentative smile. “Okay,”
she said as she rose from her chair and gave her mother a gentle tap on the
shoulder as she passed her chair. “I’ll be right back,” she reassured her. Her
mother’s smile wavered as she struggled to keep it together. Looking
imploringly at her husband, Sharon questioned on a near whimper, “Miguel?”

Her
husband totally brushed her aside without answer and led the way to his study.
Devon followed slowly behind him as she struggled to maintain her composure. It
was all well and good to throw up a brave face when others were present but a
whole other when faced with him alone. He walked around the massive desk set in
the middle of the room and threw out a hand indicating for her to sit opposite
him. She sat as indicated on the edge of her seat wondering what he could
possibly want with her.

She
studied the dark-haired man with his dark eyes and tanned face. A small scar
ran from the outer-edge of his eyebrow following straight down his face, the muscles
sagging from the severity of the cut. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “What
can I do for you,” she questioned civilly.

“Why
drop the attitude now?” he asked. “There’s no one here but you and me and I
think we can talk plainly, don’t you? Talk without pretense?”

His
attitude caused Devon’s blood to boil. Who did he think he was? He was nothing
to her. And he certainly didn’t control her life. She figured that by refusing
his money, his support, his anything, she owed him nothing. And since he’d not
earned her respect, he’d not get that either.

She sat
back in the chair and folded one leg over the other.
“Fine.
You’re right. For the life of me, I can’t think of one thing that would require
my having an audience with you.”

He
twisted his lips into a wry smile. “There’s the attitude that will serve you
well, just not well with me. You seem to forget that we have one thing in
common.”

Devon
gave a small shake of her head. “And
pray tell, what would
that be
?”

“Your
mother,” he answered simply.

Devon
couldn’t stop the small gasp which escaped her lips. Straightening her
shoulders once more, she asked, “What do you want, Miguel?”

“I know
someone who has something I want and you are in the position to help me get
it,” he said mysteriously.

She
scrunched her eyebrows together. “What?” she asked perplexed.

“What I
want isn’t important, how you can help me get it is,” he replied cryptically.

She
blinked rapidly as she struggled to understand the thrust of his extremely
vague conversation. Exasperation filled her tone. “I’m afraid you have me at a
disadvantage. I don’t understand what it is you think I could or would do for
you.”

“Oh, I
think you will help me or it will be your mother who pays the ultimate price.”
He gave her an evil grin as a thought crossed his mind. “Much like the one your
father paid.”

Her
head began to swim and her ears rang as she struggled to keep his words from
taking root in her mind. “What do you mean?” she whispered.

He
laughed at her swirling emotions and grief. “You know what I mean. He had
something I wanted, and sadly there was only one way to get it, and it was to
eliminate him.”

“You…
you had him killed?
But why?
What did he have you
wanted?” she asked. But then it hit her like a ton of bricks. “My mother?” she
gasped.

Again
he smiled cruelly at her. “Yes, your mother. Let’s just say I made it
impossible for her to say no. And now, I’ll make it just as impossible for
you.”

Her
breathing was rushing rapidly in and out of her mouth and she blinked against
the immediate rush of tears to her eyes. This monster had decided he wanted
something – her mother – and without any more thought than one would use to
decide to turn left or right at an intersection, he’d had her father killed. He
was dead because Miguel Munoz had considered him of no value, had considered
him to be in the way of something he wanted. Anger slid through her body, and
it burned like acid. The need to react was just too great. Acting on instinct,
she launched herself over the desk and into him. She clutched at his hair with
one hand and drew back to punch him with the other. The fact that he was nearly
a foot taller than her and outweighed her by a hundred pounds didn’t register
to her. The fact that she was a girl who’d attended a proper, private Catholic
school for girls and lived most her life in the upper-crust, while he had grown
up on the hard, cold streets, learning how to use his fists to survive, also
didn’t enter her consciousness. The only thing in her sphere of thought was to
inflict pain: to pinch; hit; gouge; or kick, the method of delivery didn’t
matter, only the direct destruction of the smug bastard in front of her. All
she could see was trying to inflict as much pain on him as she had coursing
through her body.

Before
her fist could make contact, however, he savagely wrenched her arm and spun her
around until her back was pressed firmly against his front.

“The
kitten has claws… that too will serve you well later on,” he murmured hotly
into her ear. Tightening his grip on her arm, which was pressed against her
middle, he ground himself intimately against her bottom. With his free hand, he
traced the sides of her body, beginning at her shoulder, along the side of her
breast, and then down to her hip. She struggled against him, but she was no
match for his strength.

“I
could break you like a twig. You know that, right?” he said softly.

Again
she struggled, and he chuckled. “I’m going to let you go and you’re going to go
back around and sit down. You are no match for me,
chica
.”

He
waited until she nodded in agreement. Her chest was heaving with pain, despair,
and the overwhelming need to retaliate against this man in some way. Slowly he
released his hold and she shoved away from him and the hardness she’d felt
pressed against her backside. She shuddered at the thought of him touching her
in that way.

Slowly,
on shaky legs as she tried to take in the information he’d just given her, she
returned to the chair. Her mind had jumped into
hyperspeed
,
trying to decide what to do next. The authorities had to be told. They would
come here and deal with this scum. While it wouldn’t be as satisfying, at least
justice would be served and she and her mother could move on. Thinking of her
mother made her ask, “Does my mother know?”

He
grinned.
“Of course.
She took a little convincing, but
soon we were able to reach a mutual understanding.”

Threats
had to have been made. That would have been the only way her mother would have
ever given in to this man. Her mother loved her father. No wonder she’d always
been cagey and defensive about her quickie marriage to Miguel. Shame roiled
through Devon as she thought of all the mean and nasty things she’d said to her
mother in the past year.

As her
stomach roiled, she pushed to her feet and began to move to the door. “You are
a monster,” she said unevenly. “There’s nothing you can do that would make me
help you. I’m contacting the police. Oh, my God. Oh, my God!” she whimpered as
she staggered toward the door. She felt as if her mind was made of quick sand
and no matter how she tried, she couldn’t get a firm grip on anything. Her
father! He’d had her father killed.

“I’ll
kill your mother if you don’t help me. You know I will. It will be effortless
on my part. She has already served her purpose in bringing me respectability. I
don’t really need her any longer,” he said snidely.

Her
hand was on the door handle when the full impact of his words slammed into her
brain. He was right. She really didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t let him kill
her mother. Grief at her losses, fury at the man who’d caused
them,
and feelings of powerlessness warred within her.
Miguel had stripped her down to the barest essentials of life. She felt naked
and raw, vulnerable and weak – qualities she detested. This made her hate him
even more.
 

Her
numb fingers fell away from the door. The overwhelming chaos of emotions seemed
to still and become frozen within her. As she’d done twice already since
arriving, she straightened her shoulders and stood to her full height. Without
turning around, she stared unseeingly at the wooden doors in front of her.
“What do you want?” she asked emotionlessly.

His
chuckle grated her nerves. “What I want doesn’t really concern you. How I
intend to get it does,” he said in a tone which bespoke of his confidence in
the knowledge he’d always known she’d do his bidding.

Her
hands clenched at her sides. In a measured and impatient tone, she asked again,
“What do you want?”

The
emotions which had momentarily been controlled and contained within her began
to break apart and threatened to rise back up through her. She needed him to
tell her so she could get away and fall apart outside of his sight. She’d not
give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d broken her. He’d already taken too
many things from her; she refused to give him this.

“There’s
a man I know,
Lex
Vega. I think you know him?” He
said the words in the form of a question of which he already knew the answer.

In her
mind she saw the face of the man he’d mentioned. He’d come into the restaurant
on several occasions and always made a point of sitting in her station. The man
always wore tight dress pants and his silky shirts were always unbuttoned to
the middle of his chest which revealed several thick lengths of gold chains.
He’d been introduced to her by Roman, and initially she’d been interested in
him. His dark looks – black hair, black eyes, and superior build had captured
her attention. Plus, he was a friend of Roman’s, so she somewhat trusted him.
She’d dated him for a short while, but right after they’d had sex for the first
time, he’d changed.
Lex
had a cruel streak and was
highly possessive and jealous. She’d also discovered that not only did he deal
in
drugs,
he was a user as well. She’d stopped dating
him immediately, but that didn’t stop him from coming into the restaurant.
Every time he’d been in, he’d sat with a toothpick stuck in the side of his
lips, eyeing her lasciviously. On each occasion, his eyes had contained the
glassy, spacey look of those who partook of the very drugs they pushed.
Lex
had invited her out each time he’d come into the
restaurant but she’d refused him each time, politely, of course.

With a
small nod, she asked Miguel, “What about him?”

“For
some strange reason, he fancies you. I personally don’t see the attraction, but
he wants you.”

Finally
turning to face Miguel, she struggled to wrap her mind around exactly what the
point was, while deep down, the sick feeling of knowing the point made her
stomach queasy. “And how
Lex
Vega feels about
anything matters to you, why?”

He gave
her a cruel smile. “
Lex
has something I want… I have
something he wants…” he trailed off and gave a dismissive wave of his hand as
if the conversation was merely a formality.

She
moved to sit down on the edge of one of the leather chairs flanking the door.
“You’re what? Giving me to him?”

“That
college education wasn’t wasted on
you,
was it?” he
said with a grin.

“What
does that mean? What would I be expected to do? Date him? Marry him? What?” she
asked as panic began to rise up within her. The mere thought of the other man’s
hands on her degusted her beyond belief. She shuddered at the thought. Could
she go through with something like that? She gave a small shake of her head to
herself. No, she didn’t think so.

“Oh, I
see your internal struggle, but rest easy in the fact; that you well and truly
have no options here. Your life… your mother’s, means nothing to me. Fail me in
this and I will torture her first before I kill her… and I’ll make you watch.”
He walked around the desk and leaned back against it as he crossed his legs at
the ankles. “Since we’re family, I think it only fair to warn you that I’ve
heard
Lex
is… well, a sexual deviant. He likes it
rough.”

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