Inside Out: Behind Closed Doors Read online

  “I told you, that’s not an option,” Jason says, a bite to his tone.

  “And I just told you that I’d check it,” Buddha says, his tone almost amused. “The hotel staff doesn’t ask me why I want what I want. They just ask how they can get me what I want.” He stands. “Ella will give you my number and text me yours. I’ll be in touch in the next few hours.” And just like that, he turns and leaves the room.

  “His number,” Ella says immediately, giving us all time to pull out our phones before she relays it. Then she stands, focusing on me. “I have to go back home. Can you walk me out?”

  “You’re leaving already?” I ask.

  “Unfortunately,” she confirms as we exit the dining room. “Some emergency family business is taking me out of town.”

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, following her to the hallway, and thinking of her odd, coded words when I chatted with her on the phone yesterday.

  “It’s fine,” she says, stopping by the door to face me. “I’m fine, and you will be, too. Buddha will take care of this. But if you get into any trouble and don’t know what to do, forget his crankiness and call him. Yes, he’s attached to the mob, and yes, he really is a lowlife, but sometimes it takes a lowlife to deal with a lowlife. And you are dealing with a lowlife.”

  “I know we are—believe me.” I circle back to her. “But I’m worried about you.”

  “It’s just family business,” she says. “I’ll be back soon, but I’m headed out of the country, so don’t be alarmed when you can’t reach me.” She hugs me. “Be safe.” And then, with nothing else at all, she just turns and leaves.

  I watch the door open and shut, feeling shell-shocked, and reminded of Jason’s words. Ella is not what she seems. I believe that’s true. But I also believe that someone right here with Jason and me isn’t what they seem, either. And what’s really scary is that despite all the control freaks trying to get us out of trouble, the only one who seems to have any control at all is Buddha the mob man.

  TWENTY

  I’M STILL STANDING in the hallway, wishing for that journal to document everyone I’ve come in contact with, when Daniel and Jason’s voices lift in the air nearby. Following their muffled conversation to the kitchen, I find them facing each other across the island.

  “I know you feel like my running these security profiles damages relationships,” Daniel says, “but it’s a mistake not to finish what we’ve started. We need the PI to finish running them on everyone who’s close to you. And before you argue too much—”

  “I agree,” I say firmly, stepping to the end of the island, between both men. “Why are you fighting this, Jason? It has to be done, and start with me, Abel, and Daniel, so you have the peace of mind of knowing you can trust those closest to you. If someone is offended, then they have something to hide.”

  Daniel straightens and crosses his arms. “An interesting detail I was about to share with Jason: I had them run a check on you the minute you bought that unit.”

  “Daniel, damn it,” Jason bites out. “Don’t go rogue on me.” He looks at me, no doubt gauging my reaction. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” I say. “I told you both already that I want you to check me out. And I’m eager for the report to arrive so you have peace of mind, and”—I look at Daniel—“so you can stop being an asshole to me.” I purse my lips and fold my arms in front of me. “Unless that’s just natural.”

  “No need to wait,” he says. “I received your report and mine just a few minutes ago.” He glances at Jason. “I had them both sent directly to your email, though I did receive a copy of Skye’s.” Then he looks at me. “Holy shit, woman. Your father’s Aaron Newton?”

  Jason’s gaze cuts sharply to me. “The Hall of Fame pitcher?”

  “Yes,” I say, then suck in a heavy breath and let it out. “He was—or is, I mean. He is my father.” I direct a pointed look at Daniel. “And now you want to know why I’m working two jobs to pay for law school.” It’s not a question.

  “Yes, actually, I do,” he says.

  “Skye and I will have this conversation alone,” Jason states with no give to his voice.

  “No,” I say firmly. “I want the air cleared once and for all. My father cut me off the minute the courts no longer required him to pay child support. And what money my mother had, she blew playing cougar to men my age. So being poor is a way of life for me, but so is making it on my own. That being the case, if I was in on this with Stephanie, I think it’s pretty damn obvious that I would have taken the hundred grand Jason offered me for the unit.”

  “Holy shit,” Daniel says, giving Jason an incredulous look. “A hundred grand?”

  “I wanted inside that storage unit,” Jason says. “And I want this axe out of the air.”

  “You’re obviously affected enough by these threats to offer a hundred grand for that unit,” Daniel says. “But you still manage to keep winning.”

  “I play well under pressure,” Jason says. “It’s just who I am.”

  “Let’s not say that beyond this room,” Daniel says. “We don’t want anyone to think you’d pay that in a blackmail fee.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Jason says. “Because blackmail never ends. You pay once, you pay again.”

  “That’s true,” Daniel says, his attention returning to me. “I played baseball. Your father was one of my idols.”

  “He was, and is, that to a lot of people.”

  “And he cut you off?”

  “I’m sure if I sucked up and told him what a god he is, he’d throw me some change,” I say. “But if I never see that man again, I’m fine with it.”

  “Understood,” he says. “I have the privilege, and I say that jokingly, of having a father who fits the same mold.”

  “All right, then,” Jason says. “We need a break from all this dark ugliness. I say we order a shit ton of food and eat while we wait for Buddha to update us.”

  “Buddha,” Daniel repeats, “who is a mob guy. I don’t like it. And who the hell are Ella and her father? Because that man is dangerous.”

  “If you believe that, why did you taunt him?” I ask.

  “You never show those guys fear. Ever. But he is really fucking dangerous, yet Ella has him on a leash.”

  “She’s just a schoolteacher,” I remind them.

  “ ‘Just’ a schoolteacher who has a mobster father, or a connection to the mob. I’ll dig around.”

  “Don’t,” Jason orders quickly. “We don’t need to taunt yet another bear when we don’t even know the name of the one on our heels. I want to take this one step at a time. We need to know what’s on that security footage, and I’ll assess the risk of allowing him to offer any more support, based on where we stand after he does this for us.”

  “He wants you to keep winning,” I say. “So it seems Buddha has some motivation to protect you.”

  “Everyone wants me to either win or lose,” he says, “which is why I don’t talk or think about what anyone else wants me to do. So let’s order that food. I’ll call Abel and see if he wants to join us.”

  “Don’t count on Abel,” Daniel calls out as Jason disappears into the living area. “He’s pissed at me for having the people around you investigated.”

  Jason turns around inside the archway. “He’s pissed? Abel doesn’t get pissed.”

  “He did today,” I say. “He said it was going to mess with your play.”

  Jason’s brow furrows. “Now Abel’s talking about my play? And doubting me.” He shakes his head. “You know, things like this just make me want to win all the more.” He walks out of the room.

  “He will, too,” Daniel says. “Sometime soon, whoever’s trying to shake him will figure that out, and either give up or—”

  “Come at him another way.”

  “Exactly. And our best hope of preventing that at this point is a mobster named Buddha. I need a drink.”

  • • •

  TWO HOURS LATER, we’ve pigged out on what tur
ned out to be basically a mini buffet Jason had brought to the room. Once we’re done, Jason and I settle down on the coach, Daniel on the leather chair beside us, while they tell me stories and try to explain poker to me. It’s interesting to watch how Daniel and Jason interact without Daniel’s asshole persona present. And it’s crystal clear that these two not only respect each other; they’re friends.

  “If you intend to become my woman,” Jason says, “you have to know this stuff.”

  “He has a point,” Daniel says, surprising me by showing no resistance, and moving an ottoman closer to the table. “I cannot, and will not, approve the progression of this relationship if you don’t know his game.” He taps the table. “Throw me some dues.”

  I laugh, and I don’t let myself linger on Jason’s “my woman” thing, but it’s not sounding like such a bad thing to be right about now. And when Jason gives me a warm look and winks, then tosses Daniel a card, I could easily double down on that opinion.

  Another hour passes, with lots of much-needed laughter for us all, disrupted only by Daniel’s cell phone ringing. He digs it from his pocket and glances down. “Blue City,” he says to Jason. “They’re still pushing that stock-pricing adjustment.”

  “No,” Jason says. “That’s unacceptable.”

  “I know,” Daniel says. “I’ll handle it.” He accepts the call and walks to the kitchen, where I can hear his asshole side back in full force.

  “What’s Blue City?” I ask Jason.

  “A gaming company, and one of my larger investments.”

  “Daniel handles that for you, too?”

  “He handles some of my more cumbersome investments, on a selective basis.”

  “So you really trust him,” I observe.

  “Yes, baby.” He leans in and kisses me. “I really trust him, but I’ll read the report from the PI. I’m not, however, reading the one on you. I want you to tell me about you, and I’m sorry that stuff about your father came out in the kitchen.”

  “Read the report,” I say. “What’s on paper doesn’t tell a person’s story anyway.”

  A knock sounds on the door, followed by the doorbell. “Must be room service, coming to clear away our dinner.” He stands up. “I’ll go let them in.” He heads in that direction and I move the cards around, trying to remember what I was told about a certain hand, when I hear Buddha’s voice. Surprised, I rush toward the door.

  “How did you get up here?” Jason asks curiously.

  “I promised them you’d give them an insanely large tip,” Buddha replies, as I reach the hallway and the door shuts behind him. “We need to have a ten-minute conversation. Where do you want to have it?”

  “This way,” Jason says, turning and heading in my direction. “Kitchen.”

  I lead the way, entering to find Daniel still on his call. The minute he sees Jason and Buddha enter, his eyes go wide. “I’ll call you back,” he says and hangs up. “What’s going on?”

  “This,” Buddha says, tossing a grainy picture onto the island. “That’s Joe ‘Lagoon,’ and they call him that because if you cross him, you end up at the bottom of a lagoon.”

  My stomach knots. “Oh, God.”

  “God won’t save you from Joe, sweetheart,” Buddha says. “That’s why Ella made sure you have me.”

  “Why are we looking at a picture of Joe?” Jason asks. “Because I have no dealings with the mob and never have.”

  Buddha’s response is to toss down another photo. “Is that your waitress?”

  Jason grabs the photo, studies it, and gives a quick nod. “That’s her.”

  “Joe was here at this hotel during the tournament, and your waitress has been seen at a joint that he favors down the road.”

  “Couldn’t that be a coincidence?” I ask, grasping for straws and hope.

  “No such thing exists with Joe,” Buddha says. “He’s involved in this.”

  “What does that mean?” I manage, needing answers, needing some semblance of control.

  “Yes,” Jason agrees, his tone calm, even. “What does that mean?”

  “You’re on the wrong fucking radars,” Buddha says. “And I need to find out how to get you off.”

  “How long will that take?” Daniel asks, speaking for the first time.

  “You don’t just get in Joe’s business,” Buddha says. “This is going to take a few days of me playing nice with him and finding out if he has a job I can help with.”

  “In other words,” Daniel says, “you have no clue.”

  “Bright boy, aren’t you?” Buddha asks.

  “A day?” Jason presses. “A week? Two?”

  “A week,” Buddha says. “And in the meantime, stay here. This is a free service. I’m not running across the fucking country to save your ass if you get in trouble.”

  “What about my family and friends?” Jason asks, still calm. “Do I need to be worried about their safety?”

  “I’ll let you know,” Buddha says.

  “You’ll let him know?” I ask, incredulous. “That’s not a good enough answer.”

  “He gave us an answer,” Jason says. “Get everyone the hell out of the country.”

  “No,” Buddha snaps, his face reddening. “Do not get them the fuck out of the country. If you make erratic moves, Joe will make a move, too. And if you hire security, they’d better be damn undetectable. I’ll have you and Skye watched here. You’re on your own for your parents.”

  “What do you mean, you’ll have us watched?” Jason asks, exactly what I wanted to ask.

  “I’ll fucking have you watched,” Buddha repeats. “And don’t hide in your hotel room. Act normal. Act like you’re having a love affair with Vegas.”

  “Act normal?” I ask. “I have two jobs in San Francisco, and bills.”

  “Looks to me like you have a sugar daddy,” he says, lips curving, like a cat who ate the canary, waiting for the reaction he’s baited me to deliver, and won’t get.

  “I can’t stay here,” I say, “so that plan won’t work.”

  “Live or let die,” Buddha says. “Sing the song, honey, because those are your choices.” Then his voice hardens. “No. I’m not telling Ella you got yourself killed, because she’ll blame me. Keep your ass here, woman.” He looks at Jason. “Convince her—and if you can’t, I will. I’ll be in touch when I have something. That’s it for now.”

  He turns and walks away, leaving Jason, Daniel, and me to stare at each other. No one speaks until the door opens and shuts.

  The instant that happens, Jason says, “I need the best security money can buy for me, you, Skye, and my parents,” he says to Daniel. “Not some PI. The very best, Daniel.”

  “I’ve been looking into an ex-CIA agent who owns a security firm, just in case this turned nasty,” Daniel says. “I’ll call him.”

  “Do it,” Jason says. “And make sure he, or whoever we hire, is qualified to deal with the mob without getting caught by Joe fucking Lagoon. I’m not relying on Buddha, no matter how resourceful he might be. For all we know, staying here makes us sitting ducks.”

  “Understood,” Daniel says. “And I couldn’t agree more on all points.”

  “Get it done,” Jason says. “Skye and I need some alone time.”

  “Understood again.” Daniel exits the kitchen.

  Jason’s hands immediately come down on my arms, turning my body to his. “You have to stay with me.”

  “I have to work. I have a life. My apartment is in shambles.”

  “You heard Buddha,” he says. “You have to stay here with me, and in case you think that’s a problem for me, I want you with me. And I want you safe.”

  “In my mind I know I can’t go back right now, but I need to argue. I have a plan, just like you do at the tables. A calculated plan. My control, Jason. My way of surviving. And yes, we’re good right now, and I’ll enjoy being with you, but we’re too new for me to plan for anything but me alone, again.”

  His eyes, those green, gorgeous eyes, fill with
shadows he never allows anyone to see. “I need to know you’re safe.” He cups my face, just holding me for several beats, just breathing with me, the power of his emotions slamming into me. “I don’t even understand this fully right now,” he says, his voice low, gravelly, “but I need you with me through this, Skye.”

  It hits me then that Jason has held the weight of these threats, and the fear for his parents, without allowing anyone to see it. He’s alone in every room of people he’s in, and I understand that.

  “I’m here,” I say. “I’m with you. I’m staying.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I CALL MY BOSS and it’s not a pleasant conversation, but I get my week. I wonder if it’s really even possible to end this, but I can’t think about myself right now. I’m worried about Jason. This has gone on too long; when will someone get hurt? Daniel seems to be of the same mind, wasting no time lining up a Skype call immediately for Jason and me with the ex–CIA agent. Maybe, just maybe, we’re all going to get the help we want and need.

  Jack Monroe is in his forties, with hard features and a confidence about him that instills confidence in others. After an hour of talking, he summarizes for us. “No one will know we’re there,” he says. “Not your parents, not you, not the mob or this Buddha character. I have one of my men checking out Joe and Buddha, but the bottom line here is that we need to know what they’re after, and we don’t have a man inside the mob. Buddha is our fastest option, and we’re going to be watching him. And one final point: keep knowledge about my company’s involvement as narrow as possible. Just you two and Daniel.”

  “What about Abel?” I ask. “Shouldn’t we tell him?”

  “I’m aware that he’s in the inner circle, but people are human. Think of this like poker. Most people have little tell signs that are better avoided.”

  “Narrow it is,” Jason agrees. “And just to confirm, you believe our staying in Vegas is the right move?”

  “I think alerting the mob that you need to be dealt with now, not later, is not something you want to do,” Jack says. “Daniel said he could stay around by teasing the TV folks about signing another contract, and I encouraged that. Keeping you all together allows me to get my footing. But find a reason to get out of Vegas next week that’s believable. When is your next tournament outside of Vegas?”