High Stakes

High Stakes An dark Asylum/ Mafia romance erin trejo Copyright © 2023 by erin trejo All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Created with Vellum Contents Chapter 1 Lukas Chapter 2 Addy Chapter 3 Lukas Chapter 4 Addy Chapter 5 Lukas Chapter 6 Addy Chapter 7 Lukas Chapter 8 Addy Chapter 9 Lukas Chapter 10 Addy Chapter 11 Lukas Chapter 12 Addy Chapter 13 Lukas Chapter 14 Addy Chapter 15 Lukas Chapter 16 Addy Chapter 17 Lukas Chapter 18 Addy Chapter 19 Lukas Chapter 20 Addy Chapter 21 21. Chapter 22 Addy 22. Chapter 23 Lukas 23. Chapter 24 Addy 24. Chapter 25 Lukas 25. Chapter 26 Addy 26. Chapter 27 Lukas 27. Chapter 28 Addy Epilogue Chapter 1 Lukas Have you ever had a moment in your life where you wondered how the fuck did I end up here? That’s me right now, staring down the barrel of a .45. How did I end up sitting in a room with a gun in my hand? I think it started when I was younger. My dad left us, leaving me with my abusive mother and whatever boyfriend she decided to bring home. None of them gave a shit about me. None cared if I watched as they fucked her senseless, either. I guess that was strike one. Strike two would come when I was fifteen. I had a girlfriend who was sweet and cared about me. We did everything together and even took our first hit together. However, I stuck to weed, and she chose the hardcore stuff. I remember seeing her take her last breath, watching her eyelashes as they fluttered against her cheeks. She looked up at me in her final moment, and when she died, she was staring right through me. I will never forget that day, nor the anger and regret I felt. Both still burn in my gut, and nothing can change that. That brings us to today and strike fucking three. I couldn’t save her either. My mother, that is. I tried to fight for her, and I lost. I tried taking on the biggest of her boyfriends, and it backfired. Instead of beating his ass, I got my ass handed to me, and my mom died. Her body lies next to me on the floor in a pool of her blood. I glance over and take one last look at her. How could he have done so much damage to her? I reach up and wipe the blood from my face before turning the gun to face me. I’m back to staring down the barrel as I have been for the past few minutes. Her boyfriend? He bolted. I figured he would. He left me to the remnants of a life I never asked for, to face death alone. And alone is all I’ve ever been. “You can do this,” I tell myself as I look at the gun in my hand, but I don’t know if I can. Killing yourself is a sin, isn’t it? What difference does it make to me? I don’t give a fuck about sins or doing what’s right; I never have. I’ve lived my life by the rules I made, not caring about anyone or anything. I hear the sirens off in the distance, and I know if I’m going to do this, I need to do it soon. I look at my mom one last time before placing the gun in my mouth. I close my eyes and pray I can do it right. That I don’t fuck this up. What kind of life would that leave me? Probably in worse shape than I am now. Time seems to tick past slowly, and before I know it, a man with a gun is standing in the doorway. “Put the gun down, son,” he says softly but firmly. Why didn’t I pull the trigger? What’s keeping me here on this earth? I don’t want to be here. I don’t have anything left to live for. “Come on. Just put the gun down, and we can talk about this,” he repeats. Cops. I don’t particularly like them. They never did anything when I was younger, and my mom beat me until I was nearly unrecognizable. They wouldn’t stop her. So why should I listen to them now? I turn my gaze to his and take him in through my glossy eyes. He’s your typical cop. Short hair, uniform, and a badge. “What’s your name?” he asks as if I’d offer that up willingly. No, I won’t. I won’t offer up anything because I know how that goes. You tell them the truth, and they think it’s a lie. He’s probably over there judging me as we speak. “Can you put the gun down? Talk to me?” What other choices do I have? Either I end this here and now, or I don’t. Something inside me says to put the gun down, and I want to; god do I want to, but something else is telling me to end it. Finish it here. The more he talks, the more confused I become. Finally, I pull the gun from my mouth and rest it on my lap as the cop stares me down. I know he will make a move, but I can’t stop the thoughts racing in my head. I could kill him. I could shoot him instead, but then what? There’s more than one cop here, and I know it. There’s more out there waiting to see what will happen in here. I swallow hard before holding the gun out to him. Slowly and cautiously, he takes it from my hand and lays it on the table beside the bed. “Are you injured?” he asks. I nod my head. My face