He holds up his hands in mock defeat. “Sure thing, brother. I promise I won’t interfere. But I’m gonna be vacationing here on a regular basis soon, and that’s a fact you’re gonna have to live with.”
I walk away without another word, the implications of all of this tearing at me and leaving a gaping hole in my gut. He can’t, he can’t be in the same city as me and Elle.
16
Alex
I’m on a crazy ride, and there better be a way off soon. Lose almost all of my chips in the first half hour. Get some back more in the next half hour. Dad keeps patting my back and telling me that I’m doing great, but throwing away almost five grand in an hour makes me feel like puking all over again.
When I was thirteen, Dad gave me a quarter and let me play it in a slot machine. Totally illegal. But I wound up getting ten quarters back, I was excited, and I went to spend it on something dumb. The end. This is nothing like that. This is too much more of a roller coaster with no seat belts. I must be wired more like Mom because I have no clue how Dad can possibly enjoy it.
It’s the end of a hand, and I slump back in the high-backed seat and look around for Connor. But he and the woman he works for aren’t in the room anymore, and I sag even further in my seat as I feel let down.
My eyebrows knit together in a frown as I catch myself feeling this way. Stupid of me to feel disappointed that he didn’t say goodbye before he took off. Oh, man. Elle’s going to give me such crap for this if she ever finds out. Tease me for having kind of a thing for her cousin. You’d think I’d never gotten with a guy before. And I haven’t even gotten with Connor.
Though judging from the way he kisses, I think I’d probably like it.
My phone vibrates in my bag, and I peek inside. Don’t recognize the number, but it’s from the 702 area code. Probably Elle calling from the club, which is very likely the universe’s way of getting back at me for thinking terribly impure thoughts about her cousin.
“Be right back, Dad,” I whisper.
He gives me a distracted nod, and I move away from the table like I’ve noticed some of the other players doing to take calls. I hit answer as I’m walking past the towering pink orchids.
“Hey,” I say.
There’s a short pause, and a male voice says, “Alex?”
Oops. Not Elle. “Who’s this?” I ask cautiously. No one else in Vegas knows my number besides Elle.
“It’s Connor. I made Elle give me your number. I need to talk to you…”
I blanch. It’s official. The universe is definitely messing with me. Something’s off about his voice, and it takes me a second to even recognize it as being Connor. He sounds way on edge, and it makes my own anxiety levels rise.
“Yeah, sure.” I perch on the edge of a velvet-upholstered couch. “What’s up?”
“Not on the phone. Can we meet in person? Somewhere private?”
Whoa. I think his voice just cracked. I don’t know the guy, not really, but I’m suddenly worried about him. I lean forward and glance over at my dad. He’s still playing, not looking around for me or anything, and I’m going to go out on a limb and say my first high limit gambling lesson can end early.
Connor’s silent on the other end, and I rack my brain for somewhere to go. I’m not about to invite him to my room, but all of the VIP floors have these little lounges that are usually pretty dead.
“Sure. You want to meet me in the lounge on my floor? I can be there in about fifteen.”
He exhales. “Great. See you then.”
He ends the call before I can ask him if he remembers which floor I’m on. I tap my fingers on my knee, thinking. Maybe I should call Elle to see if she knows what’s going on, but I’m pretty sure she’s at work right now. I give it a shot anyway, but it goes straight to her voicemail. It’s just as well – I’d have to explain too much. Plus, given that I told Connor fifteen minutes, I have to get a move on.
I go up to Dad and tap his shoulder, and he jerks in surprise. Like he maybe forgot for a minute that I was gone. “Oh, Alex.” He blinks at me. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. But I need to meet a friend right now.” I feel a huge sense of relief as I hear myself say it. So glad that I’m done. “You want the rest of my chips?”
“No, no. Take them to the cashier cage. Yours for next time. Did you have fun?”
I smile at him. This is a big deal for my dad, I know. Kind of like the first time he took me fishing (still not my favorite thing).
“It was great. Thanks.”
“Good job today.” He reaches out and pats my arm before turning around, and I bite my lip. I think about asking if he means that this is going to be a daily thing, but I save it for later. Cashier cage. Right.
I walk my chips over to the cage and hand them over to a rail-thin man. He doesn’t make eye contact with me as I ask for hundreds. He’s probably trained to do the whole discreet thing, and I kind of marvel at how quickly his bony fingers separate out my chips into different denominations. I glance down at my phone and see I only have twelve minutes left.
“Ma’am?”
I look up, and stack of bills is sitting on the counter for me. It’s a lot smaller than when I walked in but still a hell of a lot more than I’m used to carrying around.
“Cool. Thanks!” I stuff the money in my purse and flash him a smile, and he looks at me in mild surprise and gives me a tentative smile back. Maybe I should have used a similar tactic with the grumpy cashier out in the main floor the other day instead of responding to her with bitchiness. Some people just need a little bit of sunniness and they respond in kind.
Speaking of needing some sunniness, I need to hustle and see what the hell is eating at Connor. He’d sounded wrecked, honestly. I’d been so intent on trying to think of a place to meet when he mentioned it had to be private, but instead, I should have demanded to know why the urgency. I pick up the pace and hurry through the rainforest and across the street, trying to kill all of my speculations, but my uncooperative imagination keeps cranking out possible scenarios. Maybe he got fired because he came over to talk to me in the high roller room. Or he’s undercover for the Nevada Gaming Commission and is secretly trying to get dirt on my dad. Or he has a wife or girlfriend and wants to come clean with me after kissing me twice.
Oh, shut it, Alex.
He’s waiting for me in the lounge when I get there. I’m not exactly surprised because I’m a good five minutes late, but I’m surprised at him. He’s pacing around restlessly like a caged animal, his eyes wild as they zero in on me. His gaze travels over me from head to toe like he thinks I might be missing a limb.
My own eyes are drawn to his waist, where I can see just the handle or butt (whatever it’s called) of his gun sticking out of his jacket. Okay, had something big happened in the high roller room that I missed? Now that I’m actually here, there’s no point in speculating. The lounge is set up with a few café-style tables and reading chairs, and more importantly, there’s no one else here. I point to the nearest table.
“Hi. You want to sit?”
“Yeah.” He does that big exhale thing again, like he was holding his breath while he was waiting. We sit across from each other, and he pushes his hand through his hair.
My turn to wait as his eyes drop down. “I don’t know where to start,” he says, and he sounds completely miserable.
His fingers drum nervously on the table. One second I’m staring at them and the next I’m reaching out and putting my hand over his. He surprises me by flipping his hand over and grasping mine.
“Start at the beginning?” I suggest. His hand feels nice, warm and strong and a little rough.
He coughs a humorless laugh, no trace of a smile on his lips. Those very sensual lips. I collect myself, focusing back on him.
“We’ll be here for hours if I start at the beginning,” he says.
“Okay. Give me the bullet points then.”
He nods, his forehead creasing as he concentrate
s.
“I have a twin brother named Cruz. Haven’t seen or spoken to him in seven years. He’s bad news, loses control easily, relies on violence instead of reason. He’s part of a street gang back where we grew up.” He takes a breath and frowns down at our linked hands. “He’s in Vegas now. He tracked me down, wants to edge in on my action. Wants to make contacts and expand his operations here. Threatened to involve Elle if I said no.”
Shit just got real. This is heavy stuff. Okay, granted, when I first saw Connor in the lounge, it might have crossed my mind that he was all upset because he shot someone, which would be equally heavy. But that was a fleeting thought, more inspired because of the way he was acting so off and because I’d seen his gun.
The way he’s talking, this sounds like it might be just as bad.
“Oh, Connor…” I close my hand more tightly around his, trying to get a handle on this at the same time. “So, okay. I’m sorry if I’m slow, but he wants to edge in on what you do with security? Incorporate it into the gang stuff somehow?” The words are so foreign that they feel strange coming from out of my mouth.
He nods once, still looking miserable. Man, I wish I had a magic wand to make all of this go away for him. But I still don’t get why he’s telling me these things, why it was so crucial that he got my number from Elle and meet me. That edge that’s in Connor’s voice slowly creeps over to me.
“You just met with him?” It makes sense, given how night-and-day he is now compared to when I’d talked to him in the other casino.
“Yeah.” His voice is raspy. “He caught me and my client coming out of the high roller room. Probably paid off a guard to call him when he saw me.”
The high roller room. I shiver, thinking about how I’m mostly glad I missed that whole thing. But also what a sight that would have been, to see Connor and his twin brother facing off.
“How bad of a guy is he?” I ask.
He finally lifts his gaze and meets mine, the expression in his eyes dull. “Bad.”
I swallow. “Has he ever killed anyone?”
“Sure.”
Sure? My mouth opens, but what I was about to ask doesn’t come out. What about you, Connor? Have you ever killed anyone?
“Why are you telling me all of this?” I whisper.
“He or someone who works for him saw you and me together, Alex.” His jaw tightens. “Either at the high roller room or at the pool. He made a point of bringing it up.”
My hand jerks away from his like he burned me. I didn’t think it could get any worse, but I gape at him as a series of mini-heat bombs go off in my chest.
“What? What do you mean he made a point?” I manage to keep my voice low and steady, even though I really feel like yelling. What is Connor even saying? That his evil twin thinks I’m a potential “contact,” whatever the hell that even means? He’d better answer me instead of sitting there like a grim-looking lounge fixture.
“What. Was. The. Point?” I repeat.
He shrugs. “Scare tactic.”
That’s it? That’s all he’s got? Well, as far as scare tactics go, it seems to be working. I close my eyes and make myself take a few slow breaths. Inhale. Exhale. The smartest thing for me to do would be to walk away right now. Or run.
My eyes fly open. Elle. This Cruz guy is her cousin, too.
“What about Elle?” I demand. “Does she know about any of this? I’m assuming she knows how dangerous he is?”
“Don’t know if she realizes how dangerous he is. He was good to her when we were kids, and she remembers that.”
I search Connor’s face, and he looks as conflicted as his voice sounds. Like he’s afraid to put an end to this guy Cruz’s madness because he’s afraid of how Elle will take it. But that’s not acceptable. At the very least, he needs to make Elle understand. If she doesn’t realize it, and I can within ten minutes of listening to him, he didn’t try nearly hard enough.
“What do you mean you don’t know? Why don’t you know?” I snap. “Did you even try telling her?”
My irritation finally seems to hit home with him, and he looks at me angrily. About time. At last something we can use.
“Of course I tried,” he growls. “But she’s at work and won’t answer anything but texts.”
I’d tried to call her too and it had gone straight to voicemail. “You should have tried harder,” I say in a cutting tone.
“Right, because leaving her a message or text with all of this would be the way to go,” he says sardonically. “Or storming over there and making her freak out during her shift. At least I was able to get your number from her.” He rises, his chair almost tipping back in his haste to get up. “Don’t know why I fucking bothered.”
His eyes are full of fury as he glowers down at me, but I’m not afraid. I stand and plant my palms down at the table and glare back at him.
“You bothered because you like me. And it’s a damned good thing you did because now I’m going to drag your sorry ass to the bar so you can talk to Elle like you fucking well should.”
Oh boy. His overuse of profanity is rubbing off on me. I’m breathing hard, and he stares back at me in shock. And then he coughs that almost-laugh again.
“Fine.” He might even be smiling a tiny bit. “You win. Drag my sorry ass to the bar.”
I surprise him again by reaching out and taking his hand. He becomes very still for a second but then I can almost feel some of that tension in him dissipate as his fingers close around mine.
Looks like this one responds well to a mixture of sunniness and bitchiness.
“Fine,” I say back. “You drive.”
17
Connor
Laura was my first girlfriend, the only “real” one I’ve ever had. Platinum blonde hair that smelled like apples, beautiful creamy skin, a great smile that lit up my whole world. She moved to Albuquerque in tenth grade, and amazingly, she liked me. In retrospect, maybe it was because I was the guy she shouldn’t have been with, the boy from the wrong side of the tracks. We promptly lost our virginity to each other at a party one weekend, and that’s mostly what we did after that. Hung out on weekends when she could manage to sneak out of the house. Had sex a lot.
I knew she was intrigued by him from the moment she met him. Even back then, Cruz was the one who could lay on the charm so thick but in a way the girls didn’t know what hit them. By then, he was already running with the gang and was coming to school less and less, but he still showed up at the parties. Sometimes I’d catch him staring at me and Laura, and I didn’t think anything of it.
Cruz was my brother, and I thought that there was no way he’d betray me.
It was graduation weekend, and Laura and I had been together for two years. I’d been seeing her less frequently by then because I was so busy with my physical training. Cruz had already moved out of the house, and he convinced me to move in with him. He was able to afford a two-bedroom apartment with money from his “job.” I didn’t exactly know what he was doing out there, only that he was pulling in enough money to pay for most of our expenses. The place was pretty much a hole, but it was ours.
I ran up the steps of our building that night, late for a date with Laura because my mentor kept me at the gym longer than I planned. I heard Cruz and some chick getting it on when I walked into the apartment. That was another difference between us – Cruz never brought the same one back to his room twice. He mocked me because I’d been exclusively dating Laura, gave me shit about how stupid I was being free for the first time of my life and tying myself down.
Our bedrooms in the apartment were across the hall from one another, and I headed into mine right as Cruz came out of his, bare-assed and holding a bottle of whiskey in one hand and an empty glass in the other. I knew he was high as soon as I saw his eyes.
Anger I didn’t know I had shot to the surface to see him like that. I knew Cruz drank, but to see him get high exactly like our father sparked my contempt for him. We’d agreed to never use, that we wouldn’t tr
avel down that same path that had led to our misery when we were growing up.
“What the hell are you doing?” I barked.
His eyes grew wide, his palms showing out in a defensive gesture. “Whoa, bro. No need to get all up in my face. Just having a little party.”
Bullshit. I glared at him, my hands balling up into fists by my sides. “No drugs. We made a pact,” I said through my teeth.
He swallowed hard, and I could almost taste his fear. But he shook it off in the next second.
“Aw, lighten up. I didn’t take that much – gave most of it to my date,” he boasted, but then his smile faded and he looked away.
I glanced down at the glass in his hand and saw the pink lipstick marks on it when I heard a moan from his room. I frowned. Cruz’s whole attitude was off. And there was something about that moan, the color of that lipstick…
I stared at him as the sick realization hit me.
I pushed past him and into his room. And found Laura, naked and barely conscious. He’d gotten her drunk, drugged her, had sex with her.
I froze. I should have taken her to the hospital right then and there, but I fucking froze because I was afraid of being arrested if I brought her to the hospital like she was. Or at the very least I was afraid that I’d be brought in for questioning. I left the apartment, called 911 from the gas station on the corner.
Laura wound up making it, but she almost didn’t. She almost died.
I hold onto Alex’s hand like she’s mine, and I don’t want to let her go.
Elle does a double-take when Alex and I walk into the bar together. I realize what it must look like with us holding hands like this, but I don’t care.
She storms over, a grin on her face. “Whoa! What’s going on, you two?” She stops in her tracks and glances at her watch, her smile disappearing as she looks at me. “You’re not due here for another three hours. Just came here to hang out, or what?”
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