by Leanne Brice
To be honest, the best part of all this money is buying things that please me, things that entertain me.
Guys who go to the strip club and make it rain—if that shit actually makes them happy, then it’s totally worth it.
People pay millions for paintings, for houses they rarely live in, for surgeries they don’t need. The whole point is to buy some peace and happiness, to be able to get what you want, when you want it.
And I want April. I especially want April to be happy, cared for. Safe.
Time will tell whether she’ll make me have to track her down again or not.
I think we had a sort of breakthrough, and I’m more inclined to think she knows the value of what we have and wants to see where it goes too.
But first thing’s first: we need to find that bitch who hurt her. And get my goddamned watch back.
I send April away with a driver to do her first round of shopping.
I had some clothes and toiletries delivered to the suite for her since all she had was the clothes she’s been wearing the past two days, and she happily finally changed out, but she insisted she needed to go shopping for some distinct things by herself.
I supplied her with a new phone so she can reach me, and I her and told a few people to keep an eye on her, but I trust she’ll return.
Meanwhile, I’m bringing Nate up-to-date on our plans, and he and I are putting phase two into motion.
When April texts me to say she’s back in our room, I practically bolt out of his suite with a promise to check back in with him soon.
I re-enter my suite, my blood rushing through my body in anticipation of seeing April again.
"Check out my new look!" April says brightly as she exits one of the bathrooms in a red bob wig and black-framed glasses.
She looks pretty nerdy—like she’s been working as a librarian a few years, but she’s still damned cute. Even with that horrible unflattering blouse covering up most of her assets.
“What’s that for?” I ask, unable to hide my amusement.
“I’m coming too! I’ll hang out in the casino or something, maybe play a few slots.” Off my look, she says, “I want to see you catch her! And I don’t want to be recognized.”
“Nah, you don’t have to do that. You don’t have to put yourself out there again.”
“Well, even so, too many people around here have seen me in my natural state. I need to stay disguised.”
“Who else is looking for you that really matters? I found you.”
“Exactly. Which means others can. I only have one set of folks potentially on my tail, but with the kind of money I can use their plastic to book a suite with, they have the resources to find me too.”
“Fine, disguise all you want, but don’t hang out down there. Go shopping again—grab something nice for dinner tonight; I can send someone with you to pick out a dress, shoes, and jewelry. Don’t worry about any of this, April; Nate and I will take care of it. Just meet me back here later. I should have one heck of a story to tell you when I return.”
She nods, looking a bit disappointed.
I fill her in on the current plan.
I’m pretty much going to be doing what I would have been doing whether I’d run into April or not, hanging with my buds, working a table. Except I’ll be waiting for a certain scar-faced chick to scope me out.
I hand her some more bills and April agrees to go shopping for a few hours—for real clothes this time—and if everything works out, we’ll be back here, wrapped in each other’s arms before we know it.
When we kiss goodbye, I feel like a fucking newlywed who just got back from the honeymoon and is heading off to work.
I don’t want to go. I want to bask in whatever this is we have a little longer, stay soaked in her presence.
April is amazing.
I want to look into those eyes of hers, watch the cute way she smiles—sort of lopsidedly, a faint dimple on one cheek.
She’s so beautiful and underneath it all, she’s sweet. Despite everything.
I’ve seen so many sides of her, and I’m not certain of all the real ones just yet, but my gut believes the best of her.
She’s strong, obviously, considering all she went through, but she’s soft and vulnerable in a way that I’m helpless against. All I want to do is make sure she doesn’t hurt again.
I want her to feel, safe, protected, loved.
I shake my head like I’m trying to shake sense back in.
She’s sort of a femme fatale, a deadly combination of striking good looks, charm, femininity, and strength. Sonnets and plays have been written about women like her. For all I know, she’s a black widow spider.
And yet I’m happily floating right into her web.
Fuck.
I don’t know how she got me like this—how she managed to get in so quickly, but she is a skilled con artist, after all.
I’m bummed I haven’t hit Baccarat yet, but the more public craps table works best for our plans.
“All set up,” Nate says quietly.
I nod in acknowledgment.
“Can’t wait to get this over with so I can get back to April.”
Nate chuckles a bit. "You really like her," he says.
"Hm? Yeah, well, I said that before. She’s cute, she’s interesting... "
"No, I mean, really like her. I’d even venture to say you’ve fallen in love with her.”
He lets out a strange sort of laugh—like a cough of amusement.
"What? That’s kind of ridiculous. We’ve known each other, what—a few days?"
"You know how long my parents knew each other before they decided to get married? A week. They just knew the other was right for them. They both felt it—which is important by the way, because I’ve witnessed some one-sided messes—and they’re still married today, over twenty-five years later. And still sickeningly in love, I’ll add—over two decades later, and they still think each other’s the best thing since sliced bread. Even after having us!"
"That’s pretty rare, though."
"But obviously, it happens, which was my whole point. Time isn’t really the main factor when it comes to stuff like this. Meanwhile, my brother dated a girl for almost two years before he finally dumped her and put them both out of their misery. He never told her he loved her because he didn’t—he never fell in love with her. He had all kinds of time and it just didn’t happen. They kept trying to make it work because on paper, they were a match made in heaven, but they just didn’t click. You and April, you obviously click. I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you didn’t want to let her go.”
He shakes his head a bit. “I’ve never seen you like this—not after she-who-will-not-be-named anyway, and I just want the best for you. Despite the stress, it seems April can really make you happy, just by being with you, so if she feels the same, you guys should go for it. Strike while the iron’s hot.”
I stay quiet for a bit, processing his words despite trying not to.
I mean I guess I could be falling in love with her a bit, but it’s a tough thing to accept.
“Listen, I don’t need to think about that right now. The most important thing is that I get my damned watch back. I’ll see where to go from there.”
Man, it’s uncomfortable talking about that sort of thing.
I guess it’s mainly scary, having feelings like that about someone. I feel vulnerable in a way I haven’t felt in a while.
I know exactly where something like that leads—heartache. Possibly devastation.
Some people never recover from that, like my mom.
Loving someone else means everything about your own life is on the line in a way it wasn’t before. You’re exposed.
I’m definitely not sure that’s the direction I want to head.
People can potentially hurt me through her, and I’m not a fan of being controlled by someone else, having someone control me by using someone else.
Since getting over my dad leaving and being on my own in a worl
d where money talks and having lots of it means I get my way the vast majority of times, caring about someone is a weakness I don’t care to feel—not when otherwise, I’m in a position where I’m in control.
With my mom and older brother gone, it was just me to worry about and I like it that way—it makes me feel pretty damned invincible.
I feel eyes on me.
It happens all the time—women liking what they see, trying to figure out how to approach me, or how much I’m worth. Fleeting glances, extended stares as they size me up.
But this one feels different, in a way that distinctly makes me feel like prey, and not just for sexual predation.
Then the feeling is gone, and I patiently wait for the predator to appear.
Pete joins us and says something I laugh heartily at, despite not knowing what the fuck he said—something about his latest conquest, no doubt—and I feel the preying girl before I see her as she sidles right up to my arm.
I turn and stare into a pair of hazel eyes and smile.
She is blonde—likely a wig, according to April—and she has a light scar on her cheek.
I smile back at her invitingly.
My arm is around Taylor’s waist as she blows on my die for the third time.
The crowd is cheering, hooting and hollering and waiting to see if this is the moment my luck ends.
I roll the die and win again.
Taylor cheers and claps so convincingly and sweetly that, pre-April, I might have gotten suckered in.
"Let’s get out of here," I whisper seductively in her ear.
We make our way to the room Nate booked for us, and Taylor is gazing up at me adoringly.
The girl is damned good, but wait till she sees what’s on the other side of that door.
Chapter 16
April
I couldn’t help it—I had to see what was happening with the plan, and now I wish I didn’t.
Taylor looks really pretty in a soft, natural way, a way that makes her stand out among overly made-up tramps nearby.
I’ve changed my look again so Axel won’t recognize me if his eyes happen to scan the crowd while I watch the two of them—I’ve got wavy black hair now, and I’m wearing a sort of frumpy outfit so no one bothers me.
Axel and Taylor look far too cozy, his inviting gazes, far too convincing.
Is he really that good?
If so, he easily played me, for sure.
It sickens me the way Taylor is staring up at him, and nausea fills me once his arm wraps around her.
But it’s like I can’t look away—like a bad car wreck you know can traumatize you if you keep your eyes on it long enough to spot dead, mangled bodies.
"You’ve got your eye on that one?" I hear a feminine voice say too near my ear.
I turn toward the voice and see a brunette girl I do not recognize looking at me with sea-green eyes.
She’s cute—pretty, even—but she doesn’t exactly give off warm vibes, despite the open friendliness in her tone and the sort of smile on her face.
She looks like she’s making a concerted effort to relax her face so she looks open and friendly.
Too calculated.
"Excuse me?” I say politely.
She nods in Axel’s direction.
"The one in the blue shirt? Axel, I think his name is."
"What’s it to you?"
"I’m just here to warn you, girl. If you’re looking for a good time in the sack, then he’s definitely the one; I couldn’t stop thinking about him the last time he was here. To be totally honest, I’m hoping to get a piece of him again before he leaves this time, after that blonde. But if you think you’ll get more out of him than a good fuck, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
I have to check a fierce surge of jealousy running through me.
My hands are practically twitching, but my voice is calm and even when I speak again.
"What do you care?” I ask the stranger casually, examining her round face.
Now she sort of laughs, and it actually seems genuine, confusing me.
"To be honest, I’m just hoping I don’t have to wait longer because of you. No offense. But a ride with him is worth waiting for either way.”
Despite wanting to choke her, I like her honesty; I like forthright people, in general, ironically.
In another life, another moment involving a different guy, I could see this girl and me being almost-friends, but she has the worst timing.
I’m not in the mood for self-serving advice from horny strangers, especially when it’s concerning something close to me. Something I consider mine now, I guess.
I’m not in a charitable mood, period.
But I can’t let on the effect her words have on me.
"Been there, done that," I say casually, matching her lightness while still trying to shake off her words and shove her out of my face without actually punching her.
But I have no doubt I’ve pulled off the indifferent manner I was going for; I’m still a pro, after all, and no matter what she’s implying, Axel and I have something pretty special, despite his past. And I feel pretty secure in it.
It’s just best not to let that on; I can’t let her know how I feel about him. I can’t tell her that he and I are truly connected, and it goes far beyond our bodies joining.
I can’t tell her she doesn’t have a chance in hell hopping back in the sack with him.
Some girls find something like that a welcome challenge.
Oh, you’re so precious to him? You think you’re so great? Let’s just see about that.
That was another easy lesson for me—never let anyone know your true weaknesses; don’t let on what gets to you. Don’t you dare offer up a vulnerable spot someone can poke—most people seem to get tempted to poke it at some point, even if just for temporary kicks.
People love watching you squirm, they love needling others, throwing them off for a moment, kicking shit up in other people’s faces.
It gives them a small moment of power, and everyone craves power to some degree.
"Okay, good,” the brunette says with a wider grin, her emerald eyes sparkling. Then her eyes sweep over me. "Hey, maybe we could both have a go with him later.” She suddenly looks a bit shy. “I think you’re pretty hot too, and I actually don’t mind sharing. I’m not inclined one way or another… ”
"Thanks, but I actually have to take off,” I say, thumbing in a different direction. “I’ve got other things to see and people to do.” I waggle my eyebrows.
She laughs musically.
"Okay, well, if you ever change your mind, I’ll be around.”
She seems truly open and friendly this time, and I briefly wonder if I was her target all along.
I smile politely and turn to leave as if I’m heading out, but I just move to another spot to watch Taylor and Axel from when she’s not looking.
I don’t even know why I got jealous about that whole thing with Axel—it’s obvious he wasn’t exactly a virgin; we’ve both had lives before meeting each other. His dalliances are in the past, so what do I care?
Why do I even care if Taylor gets to have a piece, as long as I get my shit back from her and can start anew with all the cash Axel gave me?
I start pretending to examine slot machines while keeping Axel and Taylor in my periphery.
I nearly blow my cover when they start heading off, holding on to each other in a way that makes it clear they’re going for a hotel room or whatever’s most convenient to get it on.
My heart squeezes painfully and tears spring to my eyes.
It’s not real, I remind myself. You guys planned this.
But tell that to the pain in my chest, my scrunching face, my watering eyes.
What the hell am I doing?
I feel stupid, and I can’t decide if it’s because I know Axel’s faking and yet my heart has decided it’s real and is breaking, or if it’s because I willingly walked into Axel’s revenge plan: he gets his watch back after making me fa
ll in love with him enough so that when he disappears into a hotel room with my former best friend, my heart feels like it’s going to crack into a million pieces.
Logic says this: Axel is a bad boy. He is filthy rich, he has no responsibilities, and most of all, I stole from him. I made him look like a fool in front of his friends, and I’m responsible for the loss of the one thing that meant something to him from his dad.
He has no reason to care about me and every reason to screw me over at the first opportunity.
Why wouldn’t he kill two birds with one stone? Three actually? Get his watch back, get revenge on me, get revenge on Taylor—fucking us both in more ways than one.
That’s what I’d do.
That’s definitely what Taylor would do if some of the stories she told me are anything to go by.
That’s what anyone would do, right?
I can’t see properly anymore—the tears are hard to stop and my eyes keep filling as fast as they fall.
This is so dumb.
I’m so dumb!
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
My own mom didn’t want me. And she had me for twelve years.
Why would I think for a second some rich playboy would want me after knowing me for a few days? All those lessons I learned from Taylor… I should have just taken off again when I had the chance.
Axel handed me a stack of hundred dollar bills—even after I already lost the stack I stole from him Taylor—and I’m still here, crying over him while he fucks my best friend. Ex-best friend, that is.
Well, see? There’s the silver lining—he’s her problem now.
While they’re getting it on, I’ll be busy putting necessary distance between us.
The remainder of the cash he gave me burns my pocket.
Quit while you’re ahead, right?
They won’t find me to arrest me, and I’ve got enough on me to keep me set for a little while.
Everything will be on Taylor—my old disguises, all the fake IDs, and maybe even some of Axel’s stuff—so Taylor will get in trouble for everything; she’ll look guilty as hell.