Poker Face (The Masks Series Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page B

fetch her a tissue. That’s when I saw Dad sitting on the bed.
    I froze, the reality of yesterday becoming all too real.
    “What the hell are you doing here?” My teeth clamped together, making the words hard to get out.
    Dad scoffed, rising from his place and snatching a Kleenex from the box. Storming past me, he handed it to Mom with a display of tenderness I hadn’t expected. She gave him a sweet smile, making me want to punch him all over again.
    I hated that we looked so alike. Why the hell did I have to be his son, his freaking replica!
    He turned to face me, and it was a small satisfaction to see the puffy bruise on his cheek. I was glad I had left my mark back at Gramps’s house.
    My jaw jutted to the side and I dropped my gaze to the floor, his intense stare making me feel a guilt I shouldn’t have to bear.
    “I spent the night with Cliff,” Mom started shakily, wiping her nose and dabbing at her red eyes. “His shift started at six so I decided to go home and shower and when I got there...” Her voice hitched. “There were men...inside my house.”
    My blood ran cold. “Did they—?”
    “They didn’t see me.” She shook her head. “Declan was waiting for me.” She pointed at her ex-husband. “He stopped me going in and brought me here.” Fresh tears bubbled over her lashes. “He told me about Gramps.” Her face crumpled and she pressed the sodden tissue to her eye.
    I backed up, grabbing the whole box and passing it to her. She hugged it to her chest, pulling a fresh one free and holding it under her nose. Dad lowered her gently onto a chair and crouched down beside her.
    I hated seeing his tender side. He wasn’t allowed to be kind! He was an asshole who left my mother, gambled away our savings and then ditched us! I wanted to grab the back of his collar and kick him out. She was my mother. I could deal with this shit. We’d been dealing with crap our whole lives and he’d hardly been there for any of it.
    My fingers bunched into tight fists as I fought the urge to lash out. Breaths shot through my nose.
    “Why?” I barked out the word. “Why were there men in Mom’s house this morning? Why did those guys kill Gramps? And who the fuck is Lucian Marchant!”
    I didn’t know how the name came back to me. It just popped into my head, a moment of clarity as I relived those thugs standing in Gramps’ living room, telling me I had to go with them.
    Dad rose from his spot with a heavy sigh, slumping onto the sofa and pressing his fingers into his eyes.
    “I screwed up, okay? I got myself into debt and started conning to get out of it.” He huffed and pulled what looked like a poker chip from his pocket. Tapping it against the arm of the couch, he began flicking it through his fingers.
    I crossed my arms, resisting the itch to start pacing.
    “I paid back everything I owed including the mortgage on our house. I was clear, but I left you guys nothing more and I wasn’t okay with that.”
    “Don’t make yourself out to be a saint,” I spat.
    “I’m not.” His calm expression unsettled me. “I have no excuses for my behavior. I was a loser and you both deserved better, but I wasn’t going to leave you high and dry. So, I decided to pull one last con.”
    “Marchant,” I muttered.
    “Yeah, I, ah...” He scratched his forehead, flicking his eyes to Mom before continuing. “I became Antonio Costa and got in good with Marchant’s wife. I managed to steal five hundred grand, which I figured was enough to keep you guys going. I thought everything was set, but then he found out. So...” He clicked his tongue and started tapping the chip against the chair again.
    “So...what?”
    Mom cleared her throat. “So, he put the money in a trust fund.” She glanced across at him, a small smiling touching her lips. “You know, I always thought it was you.”
    He winked at her.
    My face wrinkled with disgust as her cheeks bloomed red. “Wait, the trust fund? You told me that came from your