“Okay, then why didn’t he come with you?”
“Oh, Alexis. It wasn’t that simple. His family needed him, too. We wrote letters to each other for a while, but he eventually met someone else, and I met your father.”
Mom rises from the chair, so elegant and refined and wise. Everything that I’m not. She glides over to me and places her hand on my arm. “Don’t misunderstand me. I have no regrets. I love your father dearly, and I wouldn’t trade having you for the entire world, baby girl.”
I stand there like I’m paralyzed, unable to move, unable to speak. Trying to understand why I’m so sad that she didn’t wind up with Ian instead of my dad.
She gives my arm a gentle squeeze and floats away, her voice drifting over her shoulder. “I’ll leave you to get dressed and then we can go down to the pool together. See if your boy is waiting for you.”
Connor’s not there, and I get mad at myself because I’m disappointed.
I know it’s not because we’re later than usual in getting down to the pool. Or because I’ve skipped a few days. It’s because I brushed him off the other night. Took off running after he opened himself up to me in ways that I never imagined possible. He made me feel so damned good, he made me feel so special and desired, and he wouldn’t take anything in return. And what did I do? Blew him off because he was honest with me about his past.
I sink down on one of the chairs on the pool deck and grab my phone from my bag. I still have his number on it from when he’d called me the other day, and I pull it up and stare at it. Think about that look he’d given me when we were in my room, in my bed. Like he was revealing to me the real him and yearning for me to do the same.
I pause with my finger hovering over his number, my hand shaking slightly. Do I really want to call him? Or am I only feeling mushy, sentimental, and not like me because of the story about lost love that my mom told me?
My phone rings in my hand, and I jump. I recognize Elle’s cell number, and I blow out a breath and hit answer. Mom is doing her stretches next to me, and she shoots me a curious look that I ignore.
“Hey, Elle.”
“Hey.” She sounds on edge, and I sit up straighter, wondering if something happened. She clears her throat before rattling off, “What are you up to today? You want to meet for lunch or whatever? We need to talk plans.”
Plans. I feel an irrational lightening in my chest, as I realize that – of course – this is where Connor is right now. He’s with Elle, and they’ve been talking about how to deal with Cruz. That this is why he isn’t at the pool.
“Sounds good,” I say. “Do you guys want to come over here?”
Elle hesitates. “I’ll come and meet you, sure. I don’t know where Connor is, though. Haven’t been able to get a hold of him all morning.”
That shred of hope that was starting to bloom in my chest flits away in an instant, and I give myself a mental slap.
“You haven’t heard from him recently, have you?” Elle’s voice shakes me from my thoughts. Her tone is almost too casual, and I wonder if Connor talked to her at all, if he told her anything about what happened between us.
“Nope.” No, I haven’t seen Connor. Not since I spent a glorious night with him at the movies, in my bed, and ended it by being a bitch to him at the pool.
She and I talk for a minute more. I invite her to meet me and my mom at the pool, and then we’ll decide where to go eat from there.
“Everything all right?” Mom gives me a concerned look before pulling her coverup over her head. She’s limping a little, and I frown, my turn to be concerned.
“Yeah, that was Elle. She’s coming over for lunch. But what’s going on with you, Mom? Are you limping?”
“Oh.” She makes a dismissive gesture with her hand. “I walked into something in the middle of the night. I’m dreadfully clumsy, I know.”
She moves away toward the pool, and I shake my head. Mom couldn’t be dreadful or clumsy if she tried.
I decide to skip the stretches and run in to the pool desk to leave Elle’s name as my guest. Mom’s waiting for me at the end of the pool when I get back, and we splash in together. I try not to think about the fact that I snuck into this water with Connor the last time I was here. I start to swim, waiting for my bubble to envelop me and quiet the unrest in my heart, but it never comes. Who am I kidding? I wish Connor was here, going all Navy SEAL and doing laps around us like he owns the pool.
Okay, this is not a big deal. I’ll apologize the next time I’ll see him. Play it by ear and see where things stand. And no matter what, I’m committed to helping with the Cruz situation. I’ll meet with Elle, pass along any ideas I have to him through her if need be. I had a preliminary thought yesterday or the day before – that Cruz might have bluffed about not knowing anyone in the city.
Connor told me he thought Cruz found him because he paid off the guards. But Connor has been working with these people for longer, right? So that part doesn’t make sense to me, that the guards would betray Connor like that. Unless of course, Cruz dropped tons of money on them, but even then, I’d like to think that someone would have been loyal enough to Connor to tip him off about Cruz.
I’ll run it past Elle later to see what she says, but I think it’s more likely that Cruz already has connections here. That he had his poker face on when he approached Connor, so to speak.
I think about this long and hard, and when I realize I haven’t come up for air for more than a quick breath for ten full laps, I finally surface at the wall. My muscles burn as I hang onto the edge and focus on my breathing, and I look around the deck in tempered hopes that Connor will be here. But I don’t see him, and it’s like something deflates in my chest and leaves a big empty spot.
I like Connor, and that’s why I want to help him. He’s complex, and he’s not always easy to be with. Yes, I’m a little ticked off at him, but I got through some of those layers of his, and I think he’s worth it to me.
Connor’s worth it. The realization of it fills me with a sudden panic. Because I don’t have the slightest idea of what I’m doing. Because the idea scares me out of my damned mind. I’m pretty sure that Mom saw it almost right away, saw through those layers of his, but she’s always been perceptive like that.
And Mom is…where exactly?
The lane on the other side of me is calm and still. I scan for her in the water, but she’s not there. I turn and sweep the pool deck, see her bag and neatly folded coverup on the chair, her sandals sitting beneath. Maybe she got out to use the bathroom, but no, that couldn’t be. I swear I passed her in the lane not too long ago.
The seconds tick by as I spin around in the water and look for her, and I try to put a lid on my increasing concern. There are three other swimmers going strong in the lanes to my left, and the lifeguard is sitting up in the lifeguard’s chair. Wearing her earbuds, though, looking off into space…
Something’s not right. I can feel it, like a pulse from the universe. My heart starts going a million beats a minute as I slip under the divider to my right to the empty lane. The sun is high, and the water ripples reflections back at me, blinding me. I shield my eyes, but then the sun suddenly slips behind a cloud.
I see something near the end of the lane. Something sticking out from under the lane dividers. Someone.
Mom. Mom.
“Hey!” I yell and wave my arms at the lifeguard, but the bitch can’t hear me. “Hey!”
I don’t wait for a response. I dive under the water and I’m off, kicking and pulling through the water as hard as I can to get to her. But my lungs feel like they’re going to explode as soon as I get going, and I erupt through the surface again, only a few feet away. Not close enough. I scramble forward, aware of the lifeguard standing up in her chair and finally preparing to dive in.
I reach, stumble, my breaths coming in gulps, try to move through the water that suddenly feels like molasses. Try not to totally lose it. My fingers close around Mom’s ankle right as the lifeguard splashes do
wn into the pool next to me.
Someone runs over, shouts down at us. I scream at the top of my lungs without looking up, “Call 911!”
Fucking do it. Please. Please, God. Please don’t let her die.
Mommy.
She’s heavy, so heavy, and I tug at her to get her out from beneath the divider and throw my arms around her. She’s like deadweight, and my stomach ties into a sharp knot when I feel how lifeless she is. I strain to pull her up, to get her head above the surface, but the lifeguard is stronger than me, and she finally manages to get Mom free.
Her lips are purple. Face bluish. Not breathing.
We pull her over to the wall, and the lifeguard hoists her out with the help of some guy who runs over to the side. I throw myself out of the pool after them, slipping, stumbling, wiping away my tears and trying to remember to breathe.
Mom.
My tears really start pouring down my cheeks as I stare helplessly at Mom lying there. As I watch her body jarring in a sickening rhythm with every chest compression.
A small crowd of people have gathered around by now, and they make way for me as I crawl to get closer, stagger to my feet and come to a skid on my knees. The lifeguard is still working, counting compressions, and my eyes zigzag wildly over Mom’s body. Fingers and toes are purple. Face, chest, arms are blue. Leg is swollen. The blue. The puffy leg. Something jars in my memory. From one of my classes. Anatomy and Physiology last semester. But I can’t remember…
“Mom,” I wail.
Mommy. Wake up. Please be okay.
She’s so limp, not moving except for when the lifeguard pushes down on her chest.
I can’t move either. Not even when the paramedics get there and order us to please step back. Someone lifts me up to a standing position, but my eyes are glued on Mom’s face. Blue. Her chest. Not moving. Not breathing despite their attempts to revive her.
An arm is pulling me back from the scene now, and I thrash, try to wrangle myself out of the person’s grasp and get back toward where they’re lifting her onto the stretcher. Why aren’t they giving her oxygen? Shouldn’t they be giving her oxygen? The grip on me gets tighter, keeps me from getting to my mom.
I hear someone screaming.
I realize it’s me.
The person holding me spins me around and crushes me to his chest, and I struggle and get away. Connor. I think it must be Connor, but I look up and it’s not. Just some random guy who’s trying to calm me down so I don’t totally lose it.
“Alex! Omigod, Alex!”
I step back from the stranger and see Elle standing in the crowd, face pale, mouth open as she takes in the scene. She starts running toward me, and we charge into each other.
Her arms wind around me as my screams turn into sobs.
Mom.
21
Connor
My pride won’t let me go and see her.
I could have gone to meet Alex at the pool all week. But I can’t bring myself to do it, not after she walked away from me the other night. Not when I let her in and she shut me out. Not when I know that seeing her will only make me want her. Not when she made it clear that I can’t have her.
Fuck. It’s like being with her messed up my wiring, and I can’t make sense of my thoughts anymore.
I wake up with a void inside my gut again, knowing nothing I do to preoccupy myself will fill it. I think I might go out of my mind without anything on my docket for the day.
I grab one of the books off my stack on the night table, but my mind wanders and I stare at the pages without knowing what I’m reading. Staring at stupid shit on the internet only gives me a headache. My house feels sterile, empty, even though it’s filled with plenty of distractions. State-of-the-art gaming system (hardly ever use it), entertainment system (don’t feel like using it), tons of books to read (too distracted right now). I don’t really do much here except eat and sleep. It’s my home base, but now that I’ve been holing up here for the past few days, it strikes me how little it feels like home.
I’ve been down to the Strip for an hour or so everyday, but as Neil is still working with Maya, there’s nothing for me to do there except to make my rounds. I’ve checked in with some the people that I interact with on a regular basis, but no one’s mentioned seeing my twin. Good news in one sense, but I still don’t know what the hell Cruz is up to.
I wander into the garage, stare at the space that’s taken up by my bikes. The old beater Honda sport bike that I bought dirt-cheap off my uncle when I lived in Albuquerque, a remnant from my old life that I haven’t ridden in almost two years. And the classic Harley that I bought off of a guy I know. It’s about half-restored, but I can’t even remember the last time I worked on it. Months. Maybe since winter. I tell myself it’s because I’m busy, but deep down I know that’s just an excuse. I could make time to work on it if I really wanted to. Aside from building up the clientele for the business and the list of women I fuck around with, what the hell do I really do with my time? Elle has music that she’s passionate about, and I have what?
The garage is insulated, but it’s still gets to be feeling like a furnace in here during the summer. I’d be crazy to work on it now, but I look over at the Harley again anyway, debating.
My phone rings, and I frown. Elle’s been sending calls to my phone most of the fucking morning today, but I’ve been ignoring every single one of them. I have a pretty good feeling she’s calling me about Alex, and I’m not in the mood to get chewed out for something I didn’t do. I glance at the clock. I know Alex probably already went to the pool and is gone by now, and I feel something twist hard inside me.
My phone is still ringing. I go to silence it but see it’s Neil. I pick up immediately.
“We need to talk,” he says swiftly.
I immediately snap out of my funk, my senses going on high alert. “Maya. Is she all right?”
“Yes. But I need to meet with you before I have to pick her up this afternoon.” His tone is curt, but it always is.
Maya’s okay, but I know something happened. My forehead breaks out into a cold sweat, and I run into the kitchen, grab my keys, and am out the door as I’m still talking on the phone.
“Where?” I ask. Another call comes in as I get into the Audi, but I ignore it.
“The coffee shop in Maya’s hotel. Hey, Connor…” He pauses. “I promise she’s fine. A bit pissy because I’m not you, but I wanted to clear something with you regarding her protection.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in twenty.”
My brain switches over into work mode as I back out of the garage. I’m obviously relieved that Maya’s okay, though I’m of half a mind to tell Neil I’ll take her back today. Neil wanting to see me in person doesn’t surprise me. But it means he wants to gauge my reaction to something. I try not to guess what that something is going to be, but my instincts scream out the answer anyway.
Cruz. Neil must have seen my brother. But in what capacity, I have no idea. If Cruz is following Maya around after telling me he would leave her alone, I’ll find him before the end of the month and kick him out of my city for good. The question is how. Even if Neil wants to meet me for some completely different reason, I still need to figure out how to get rid of Cruz.
Traffic isn’t as shitty as it could be, and within ten minutes I’m taking the turn onto Las Vegas Boulevard. Alex’s hotel is right across the street from Maya’s, and I give it a quick glance before pulling into the far right lane, the one that’ll take me to the valet parking at Maya’s hotel.
I look again when I hear the siren. Traffic comes to a literal standstill as everyone ahead of me brakes and rubbernecks to see what’s going on. I’m no exception, and I stare as the ambulance barrels up the drive from Alex’s hotel with lights on and horn blaring to get through. It’s too far away from me to see who’s sitting in the cab with the driver, but an uneasiness creeps over my skin as the ambulance gives one more loud blare before taking the turn onto Las Vegas Boulevard. Probably someone
thinking they’re having a heart attack after losing all of their money. Or someone getting heatstroke at the pool.
The pool… I’m white-knuckled as I grip the steering wheel. The cars ahead of me start to creep forward again, and I follow, my eyes fixed on the ambulance as it speeds to the nearest light. I finally tear my eyes away, shaking my head. I’m just on edge because I’m thinking about Cruz.
It’s lunchtime, but Neil is sitting at a table with a coffeepot and cups for both of us when I finally get to the restaurant. He gives me his customary handshake that’s more like a bone-crushing punch.
“Good to see you, man.” I’m jittery, too much for my own good, but I pour myself a cup anyway while Neil sits back and calmly assesses me. He and I have our temperaments in common, which is why we do well in this business in general and as partners. But I know he can tell that I’m off today.
He starts as I raise my cup. “She’s something else, that Maya Coplin.”
“Yeah. Can’t argue with that.”
“Didn’t speak more than two words to me until last night. But then she had all sorts of things to say once we got in the elevator.”
I’m not surprised to hear it. Maya regularly gives me the down-low on things when we’re riding back up to her room. She’s usually too eager to gamble to ever want to talk very much on the way down to the gaming floor.
The waitress comes over and takes our orders, and Neil makes a show of stirring his coffee while I wait for the details. If Maya spilling her guts in the elevator is typical, Neil’s silence isn’t. He doesn’t waste seconds – Neil’s modus operandi is one of efficiency.
“I’m assuming she told you about my brother?”
“Not in so many words.” His expression is dark. “But it’s interesting that you’d think so. She told me she’s worried about your safety, Connor. So you tell me. What’s the connection between your brother and the fact that she’s worried?”
Losing Enough Page 19