The Dark Prince's Prize

Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

Samara groaned when she saw the two identical black SUVs in the parking lot that screamed out-of-towners. So much for her dream that the Lee-Stephens’ run of bad luck would magically disappear. She pursed her lips when she saw Brit step out of the darkness.

She pulled into an empty spot on the outer edge of the overflow parking lot. It looked like the whole frigging town knew about what was going down tonight and wanted front seat admission. She shifted the truck into park and turned it off. Before she could unlatch her seatbelt, her brother was pulling open the door.

“You came! I knew you would,” Brit breathed with relief.

She gave him a dirty glare. “If you were so confident, then why were you waiting outside?” she snapped.

Brit stood back, giving her room to slide out of the truck. She slammed the door and locked the truck but kept the keys firmly in her hand with the metal tips protruding between her fingers. With the wad of cash she had stuffed in her pockets, she wasn’t taking any chances—including with her own siblings.

Desperate times make even the sanest people do stupid s**t, she thought.

“Rob thought it would be best if I stayed outside. He knows I’m not good at fighting and didn’t want me to get hurt,” Brit grumbled, shoving his hands in his front pockets.

“Rob always was a d**k. If he really cared about you, he wouldn’t drag you into s**t like this in the first place,” she retorted.

Brit uttered a strained laugh. “Yeah, I didn’t think of that,” he replied with a shrug.

She fought the impulse to roll her eyes at him but gave up. “Of course you didn’t. You’re as stupid as the rest of them. If you were smart, you’d leave like Wilson did and never look back,” she growled.

Brit gave her a confused look. “Where would I go?”

She stopped, took a deep breath, and counted to ten before she reached out and gripped Brit’s arm. He stopped and faced her. Her anger softened when she saw the vulnerability in her brother’s eyes. He might be older than she was in years, but in maturation and self-reliance he still had a long way to go before he grew up.

“There’s a whole world out there, Brit. Don’t be like Dad or the rest of them. You’re young, strong, and not afraid to work. Get out of here while you still can,” she softly advised.

“I don’t know how. This place… Rob… I don’t know nothin’ else, Samara,” he said with a shake of his head.

“You know logging. Go to Alaska. You know how to work on engines. If nothing else, join the military! Grow a pair of balls that Rob and the others don’t have a leash attached to! Just get the hell out of here before it is too late!” she raged.

“Geez, Samara,” Brit grumbled.

She threw her hands up in the air. “I’ve done what I can for you. Tonight, I’ll do what I can to help the others, but this is it, Brit. After tonight… after tonight I don’t ever want to see any of you again. I’m going to take my own advice and get the hell out of here. I have to—otherwise I won’t be able to survive.”

The realization that she needed to take her own advice suddenly hit her like a punch in the gut. It was true. If she didn’t leave her hometown, then one way or another, her brothers or just the reputation of her name would keep dragging her down.

“Where would you go, though? You don’t know no other place either,” Brit said.

Her face tilted up to the sky. She could see a few stars shining despite the light pollution. A soft laugh burst from her and she turned to grin at her brother.

“Who knows? There’s a whole universe out there to explore. Maybe it’s time to check it out,” she replied.

“Brit, have you— Samara! I hope you brought some money,” Rob said.

Samara sighed and began walking toward the door of the bar. “I see you’re the same prick you were a few hours ago,” she observed, pulling open the door.

Rob grabbed her arm in a fierce grip. “Campeau brought along some serious backup. They look like f*****g military types,” he warned.

“I suggest you be nice to me then—if you don’t want me leaving your a*s to deal with him,” she snapped, giving a pointed look at his hand on her arm.

Rob released her and stepped back. “Come on. I don’t want to leave Gary and Jerry alone with that bastard for too long. Jerry is already being an a*s. We’ll be lucky to get out of this place alive tonight,” he muttered.

Samara stepped into the bar and scanned the room. The regular crowd was there plus a few who normally only came by on the weekends. Most people were sitting at the tables drinking but a few were playing pool. It didn’t take her long to deduce where the meeting was being held. The two men standing on each side of the doorway to a back room normally reserved for special functions were drawing a lot of curious looks.

“Did everyone in town come to see what a huge i***t Gary is?” she dryly inquired.

“They’ve always known that, Samara. They just want to see what the guy from Vegas is going to do,” Brit replied to her rhetorical question.

Rob glared at Brit. “Shut up and go wait in the truck,” he ordered.

“But I want to see what happens,” Brit complained.

Samara placed her hand on Brit’s arm. “Listen, one of us needs to be outside in case things turn ugly. Who knows, I may need you to bail my a*s out of jail this time,” she said.

Brit’s mouth dropped open before he nodded and retreated back outside. She shrugged when she saw Rob’s surprised expression. At this point, she imagined anything was possible.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said.

She crossed the room to the two men standing guard at the door. Irritation flared inside her when one of the men blocked the doorway. Lifting her chin, she glared back at the man with an unblinking stare.

“Move it or lose it. I need to speak with your dickhead of a boss,” she coolly stated.

The man’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he stood aside. She didn’t miss the mic in the man’s ear nor the lascivious appraisal of the elegantly dressed man seated at a large round table. This was going to be more difficult than she first thought. Tactfulness was not her middle name. She really should have just called Annalisa and spilled the beans about the whole sordid mess to the police.

“Watch your mouth,” the guard warned as she stepped past him.

“Good luck with that,” Rob muttered behind her.

“You are not helping,” she retorted under her breath.

She walked over to the table and stopped. Her scornful scrutiny moved over the smug man sitting across from her. He seemed to be in his late thirties or early forties. The man’s clothing screamed money.

“You must be the charming sister that your brother was so gracious to add to the pot,” the man said.

She gave him a disgusted glare. “I can assure you that the word charming and any member of my family do not ever belong in the same sentence,” she said.

The man chuckled and motioned to the chair. “Please sit. My name is Alberto Campeau,” he greeted.

Samara remained standing. She wasn’t about to sit and put herself at a disadvantage. She hoped the guy liked to cut through the bullshit because she wasn’t in the mood to play games tonight.

“My brothers are asses. I’m sure it didn’t take you long to figure that out—and to take advantage of it. So, here is the deal. I give you five thousand dollars and you go back to your penthouse and forget you ever met these morons. I’m offering this one time, at this moment. It is a take-it-or-leave-it proposition,” she stated.

Campeau’s eyes narrowed. “The debt was for ten thousand—and you. Why should I take less?” he softly inquired.

“The clock is ticking. You took a gamble that you could con a bunch of ignorant dumb-f***s. I’m giving you an out which is more than you deserve. I’m telling you to take the money and walk away,” she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her cash.

Campeau pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. Samara lifted her chin and kept her eyes locked on his. The shrewd gleam in them told her he was weighing what she was saying and wondering if she was bluffing. She wasn’t, and she didn’t bother hiding her thoughts either.

“As intriguing as your offer sounds, Ms. Lee-Stephens, I never walk away from a winning hand. I will only accept what I was promised—with interest,” he coolly replied. “If you don’t have it now, I’ll collect what I’m owed another way.”

“Human trafficking is against the law. I’m sure you are aware of that. So is blackmail. I figure you can get a few years—or at least it will cost you more in bad publicity and attorney’s fees than the bet with my brothers to stay out of jail. Are you really sure you want to play this hand, Mr. Campeau?” she said, sliding the money back into her pocket.

He laughed. “How about we play another game of poker? If you win, I will agree to release your brother from the money he owes me—and you still come with me. If I win, you agree to come with me and your brother need only pay the ten thousand dollars. I’ll waive the interest that is accruing,” he said.

“I don’t gamble. Even if I did, that is a lousy offer,” she snapped.

“Then, perhaps I can offer a little bonus to help persuade you,” Campeau suggested.

“There is nothing you can say that would persuade me,” she retorted.

“Not even the chance to keep all of your brothers out of prison?” Campeau inquired.

“What are you talking about?” she demanded.

Campeau held out his hand. The man behind him gave him a manila folder which he then slid across the table to her. She gave him a suspicious glare before she opened it.

She scanned the contents of what appeared to be a very detailed report. The more she read, the deeper the feeling that she was drowning grew. Any hope that the report was fabricated evaporated when she turned the page and saw the photos.

Jerry’s muttered curses mingled with Rob’s. Gary, who had been sitting silently, closed his eyes and bowed his head. It wasn’t until she saw the picture of Brit that the angry tears burning in her eyes turned to sorrow. Drugs, guns, and worse—scared young migrants—her brothers were involved in all of it.

“Was Wilson a part of this?” she quietly asked.

Jerry grabbed the report and pictures and jammed them back into the folder. “f**k no. Why do you think he left?”

She looked at Jerry. Her anger exploded, breaking through the dam inside her. She turned on Jerry, pushing him back against the wall.

“I always knew you were a piece of s**t, but I never thought even you would go this low. Drugs? Weapons? Taking advantage of innocent people searching for a better life?!” Stepping back, she shook her head in horror as the vivid images replayed in her head. “I hope you all rot in hell.”

She twisted, knowing she needed to get out of there before she was sick. Rob reached for her, but she recoiled from his touch. As the eldest, he bore the brunt of the responsibility—including recruiting Brit into this mess.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Campeau nod to one of the men at the door. She turned and looked, surprised to see that the bar had emptied out. Shock held her still.

“Your brothers are into human trafficking, Ms… Samara—and you were one of the ones caught in their web. It would be difficult to prove you knew nothing of what was happening. After all, you lived in the same house until recently, if I’m not mistaken,” Campeau said.

She faced her family’s enemy. “I won’t be dragged into this,” she declared.

“Ah, but you already have been,” he said, sliding another photo across the table.

With trembling fingers, she picked up the photo. It was a picture of her talking with a woman who was a few years younger than she was outside of the garage. She vaguely remembered the day. Brit had been really nervous when he found her chatting with the girl.

“Where did you get this?” she asked in a strained voice.

“I think that is a question you should ask your brother—Jerry, isn’t it?” Campeau stated.

She stared at Jerry. He returned her stare with a devil-may-care expression. The sickness churning in her stomach started again with a vengeance.

“We needed some guarantee that you wouldn’t get all self-righteous and start spouting off at the mouth,” he said with a shrug.

Disbelief ricocheted through her like a pinball machine going spastic. She clenched her fist and pressed it against her stomach. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on what to do. The sound of scuffling forced her eyes back open. Rob had Jerry pinned to the wall.

“I told you not to involve her,” Rob snapped.

Jerry sneered at Rob. “It was security, man. Do you think because she is our sister she wouldn’t throw our asses under the bus when she figured out what we are doing? I’m not as naïve as you, bro,” he retorted.

She shook her head in denial. “It won’t matter. I can’t let you do this. I can’t… I just can’t,” she whispered.

“One game and all of this can go away,” Gary promised, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I swear if you give us a chance, Samara, we’ll come clean. I swear there will be no more smuggling or dealing of any kind.”

She shrugged off his hand and faced him. “Why should I believe you? All of you have always lied to me—even Brit,” she said in a broken voice.

“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder—or turn up dead. I was hoping that night was going to be a changer for me. I wanted to propose to Pat and start fresh,” Gary replied in a low urgent tone.

Her attention moved to Campeau. Every cell in her body wanted to punch the smug expression off of the bastard’s face. She couldn’t blame him for destroying her family. Her brothers had completed that job a long time ago. She hated that he had ripped the scab off and shown all the putrid infection festering underneath.

“One game, winner takes all the evidence,” Campeau said with a sweep of his hand in the direction of the file.

“How can we trust you?” she asked.

“I am many things, Samara, but one thing I never compromise is my word when it comes to a bet,” he replied.

“I don’t play poker on your scale and you know it. It wouldn’t be a fair game. It would be a s*******r,” she said.

“Then I will allow you to choose my opponent,” Campeau compromised with a wave of his hand toward her brothers.

She contemplated the occupants around the room. She studied each of her brothers. Jerry was too hot tempered. Rob was too impatient. Out of the three, Gary was the best, but even he wasn’t great—his loss to Campeau was a testament to that.

“I will play you,” a deep voice said from the doorway.

A gasp slipped from her, and Samara twisted around. Adalard stood in the center, one hand wrapped around the throat of one of the guards. The other guard lay unmoving on the floor. Bear stood next to the unconscious man with a look of awe on his face.

“He did it,” Bear replied with a nod toward Adalard.

“Adalard… how did you know?” she said.

We are connected in ways you have yet to learn, he silently replied.

My brothers… this… I have to talk to Annalisa. This is bigger than a gambling debt, she said.

I don’t think that is an option at the moment, he replied as he nodded his head toward Campeau.

She looked in the direction he indicated. The man silently standing behind Campeau held a g*n pointed directly at Adalard’s chest. He wasn’t the only one in the room armed either. Three men who had been standing in the shadows emerged, weapons aimed. Two more moved into position behind Adalard and Bear in the other room.

“Shall we play?” Campeau inquired.