Page 76 of Jackpot Joker

His question has me on edge, but I think back to the name of the store and realize he’s Italian. Perhaps he’s part of Dario’s family? A distant cousin, maybe? Like one that is bred with weasels or something?

“Umm, I don’t think so,” I repeat and take another step, making my way to the door.

The man steps in front of me, blocking the exit. “I guess you just have one of those faces, you know?”

I give him another fake smile, small this time, and attempt to step around him, but he moves with me. “I take it you came in looking for a mattress?” he asks, continuing when I don’t answer. “I don’t tell everyone this, but we have an overstock room in the back where we put our heavily discounted ones.”

My eyes look out the window in search of the man who was positioned as my driver today but looks more like a bodyguard. He’s leaned up against the car, scrolling on his phone. I try to get him to look up at me, attempting to use telekinetic powers I don’t possess.

“You can even test the ones in that room out,” the man continues, and this time I look at him. He shrugs. “Our boss doesn’t like the kids coming in and jumping all over the beds in here.”

“Perhaps another day.” I take another step toward the door, masking the groan I nearly make with the clearing of my throat as the man continues to follow me.

He touches my shoulder, causing me to jump. “Shit, sorry. I’m not trying to come on too strong or scare you. It’s just…” He blows out a breath. “I could really use the commission. The truth is, I’m kind of in a bad way, and it’s all my fault, but, well, you’d really be helping me out.”

I sigh and glance at my phone to check the time, finding a message from Dario.

Dario

Where are you?

“I’m sorry, but I really need to go,” I say as I look back up at the man blocking my exit.

The man reaches behind him and pulls something from his back. “Actually, Jasmine Baker,” he says as he digs a gun into my side. “I think you need to stay.”

Chapter 38

Jasmine

Swallowing down the bile creeping up my throat, the man holds a gun between my shoulder blades as he pushes me to the back of the building with a grip on my shoulder. When my feet go from yellowing tile to smooth, gray concrete, I look up at the sound of laughter.

Standing around the room are two men dressed incredibly similarly to the one currently holding me hostage. One wears a red tracksuit and is actually sporting proper footwear, while the other’s tracksuit is green. On their arms are two redheaded women, petting the men’s chests like they’re something special. One of them looks at me with a smile and a black eye. The other has a sneer across her face.

“I know you,” I say to the smiling one, and she blows a bubble with the gum she’s chewing.

“Ruby De Luca.” She nods at the other woman. “This here’s my sister, Angela. Your boyfriend broke her heart, but thank goodness we got these good guys here. Mark and Matty said they’d kill him for hurting her.”

The woman with the death glare clings to the man beside her. “Looks like she got over him fast enough.”

“It wasn’t easy,” she says. “He left me in that hotel room and offered me the minibar as though that was a replacement for him. Thank goodness Marky here showed me how a real man should treat his woman.”

He grips her breast and begins sucking her neck. Charming, Mark. What a catch.

I look away to see another man standing in the room with us. In place of a tracksuit, he wears a black suit with a white shirt and a solid-colored tie in a hideous shade of green.

“Todd.” His name is a whisper on my lips, and I hate that I can hear the fear in my voice, knowing he does, too.

His smile spreads as he steps toward me, and I blink my eyes, resisting the urge to cry. I haven’t given anyone the benefit of my tears in a very long time, and I’ll be damned if I ruin my record on the spineless, cruel man in front of me.

Todd’s eyes roam over me, and where I feel empowered and beautiful when Dario’s move in the same way, this man puts me on edge. When his gaze returns to mine, his lip curls in disgust, mimicking the way I feel. “What does he see in you?”

A shrill laugh comes from Angela. “I wondered the same thing. Why would he want her when he had someone like me?”

She whimpers when the man whose arm she’s on, Mark, I presume, yanks her hair and tugs her head back.

“And now you have me, ain’t that right?” His tone is syrupy in all the wrong ways, but she runs her hands up his chest as though he’s turned on.

“That’s right, baby. You’re so much better than some dumb Caruso.”