by Schiller, MK
I keep staring at the panoramic view. It calms me. I try to soak it up and memorize every perfect pixel.
Aiden’s deep voice pierces through my thin veil of comfort. “I’ve never noticed how peaceful this spot is.”
“You’ve never checked out this area in all the times you’ve hiked here?” I ask, plucking a few grapes from the plastic container he packed.
“Can’t say I have, but I’m happy you made me stop. Sometimes I’m too driven to finish something to enjoy all the in-betweens.” He gestures toward the view. “This is a pretty damn nice in-between.”
“I’m grateful for this day. Thank you for making me climb, Aiden.”
“Thank you for making me stop, Cooper.”
Chapter Ten
Emma
Life can spin around in a complete one-eighty with one quick decision. Today, if I had gone with the plan, I would have been in Linx. Instead, I’m in Aiden’s shiny black SUV heading for Vegas.
How did I get here? I sink back into the buttery-soft leather seat. He made a little box for mom to keep her secure in the back. I look behind me often to make sure she’s there. I check my phone again, but there are no messages from Kenneth. I shake away the troubling thoughts and focus on the journey ahead.
Of course, it’s hard to think about anything with the man beside me. He keeps his eyes on the road. His inky hair falls across his forehead, his mouth is pressed together, and the hard planes of his face appear locked into place. Even the scar looks more prominent as dusk turns to dark. I wonder what’s going on inside his head.
“Why do you hate Linx?”
“Emma…”
“Seriously, you never answered me the other day.”
Aiden’s expression remains calm, but his fingers tighten on the steering wheel.
“It’s a small town. Everyone’s in your business. And let’s just say, I wasn’t a popular kid.”
“That’s hard to believe.” In what school in America would Aiden not be the most popular kid? He’s a modern day Greek god.
“Well, believe it. I didn’t always look like this. I was a weakling, tall and skinny and a complete loser. Imagine a beanpole with big ears. That was me.”
“Are you joking?”
He holds his hand over his heart. “Swear. I didn’t start puffing up until I enlisted.”
“What made you join?”
“It’s a long story.”
“It’s a long car ride. We have time.”
He’s silent for so long, I expect it’s the end of the subject. Then his deep, raspy voice fills all the empty space between us.
“When I left home, I got as far away from Linx as I could. Ended up in New York City. About as opposite from Linx as you could get.”
“What did you do in New York?”
He shrugs. “I was fucking around and going nowhere fast. I didn’t spend my time. I wasted it. I got a few odd jobs washing dishes or loading trucks at night. I found this poker game on the top floor of a seedy bar. I went a few times a week and had a nice run. They underestimated me because I was the youngest one at the table. Plus, they thought I was a hick. Hell, I am a hick, but that doesn’t mean I can’t play cards.”
“You took them for all they had?”
“I won more than I lost, but I wouldn’t say I cleaned up. Anyway, one night, I’m not the youngest guy at the table anymore.” He chuckles, lost in the memory. “His name is Carson and he shows up out of nowhere. He’s wearing a gold chain and mirrored sunglasses trying to pull a total Moneymaker on us, but he has suburbs written all over him. You see, he’d played a ton of online poker, and he figured a real game wouldn’t be much different.”
“He lost?”
“You would think, but no. He owned every fucking pot. Someone accused him of cheating. He wasn’t. I watched him close the whole time. He just got good cards and knew what do to with them. More importantly, he figured out how everyone else at the table played their hands. But once an accusation is out there, especially in a room full of bruised egos and empty wallets, it doesn’t take a lot of convincing. These guys were rough. They jumped him. Five grown men against one kid, Cooper. It was ridiculous. I tried to even his odds by entering the brawl.”
“You saved him?”
“No, Emma, we both got our asses handed to us. You have to remember, I was a skinny kid. Carson wasn’t much bigger.”
I flinch at the visual. “Were you badly hurt?”
“Well, I wasn’t exactly pretty when they were done. Anyway, Carson and I recuperated in the same hospital. We became friends. When Carson’s parents came to visit him, they visited me, too. When Carson was released, he invited me to come stay with him in Connecticut. He came from a military family. Carson never questioned becoming a Marine. I’ve never seen a passion like that, or such a desire to serve and be part of something bigger than himself. I craved the same thing. So, when he joined up, I followed suit.”
“Are you still close?”
“He’s my best friend. You’ll meet him in Vegas. He’s also my manager.”
I’m excited to meet one of his friends, especially such a close one. I expect Aiden to tell me more, but he gets quiet again. He smells of cedar and pine and beautiful man. I rest my head against the window, trying not to inhale the scent. I hate myself for being attracted to him. It’s silly on the surface, but even worse, it’s completely disloyal. That’s not who I am. But the more I try to control it, the harder it is.
“Why do you fight?”
“It’s a quick way to make money.”
I don’t believe him. There’s something else about it. Not the fighting exactly, but the number of hours he dedicates to his body. He pushes himself harder and faster than anyone else I’ve ever met. I suspect it comes back to the same reason he climbs mountains. It isn’t to achieve the perfect masculine form, although that is one of the benefits.
“What would happen if you couldn’t work out?”
“I’d probably spontaneously combust.”
“Really?”
He sucks in a deep breath, turning to me. “It’s important for me to be the strongest man in the room, and if I’m not, to at least give that man a run for his money.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t play offense unless provoked, but I always want to be ready.”
“I get it.” I think.
“Emma, my head is aching from all the shrinking you’re doing. Can we stop now?”
“I was just curious.”
“Quit digging. I’m not that deep.”
Oh Aiden, I think you’re wrong there. You’re the fucking Grand Canyon of deep. “I’m not analyzing you.”
“Then what’s with all the questions?”
“Trying to get to know you, that’s all.”
“No more questions. You’re distracting me.”
He jabs the radio dial then flips it, turning up the volume. It’s a sports channel.
“Do you need to listen to this?”
“No.”
I flip the channel.
“What the hell are you doing? You don’t mess with a man’s music, Cooper.”
“You weren’t listening to music. Anyway, the rules of the road state that if we’re not talking then we should be singing.”
“Is that a fact?”
“It is.”
He gestures to the radio. “Then by all means.”
I find a classic rock station. The familiar twang of a sweet guitar riff spills forth. “This is my jam.”
“Your jam? Let me get past the fact you used that word—but seriously, Bruce Springsteen is your jam?”
“What? You don’t like Bruce?”
“I’m just surprised you do.”
“It’s on my all-time favorites playlist.” I start singing. It’s out of tune but who the hell cares. Aiden tilts his head at me, fighting the smile. “Don’t make me sing alone.” I jab his arm. “You know you want to.”
“That’s what you’re doing? Singing? ’Cause f
or a minute, I thought a cat was dying somewhere.”
I punch him in the arm. Dumb move. I shake my hand out after.
To my surprise, he turns up the volume and starts singing, too. His voice is a deep, rich baritone that’s much more suited to the pursuit of rhythm than mine.
He stops suddenly, staring at me as if I’ve grown another head.
“Okay, I’m a crappy singer,” I say, “but you don’t have to look at me all judgy.”
“No, it’s not that. What the hell did you just say?”
“Just following along with the lyrics.”
“Repeat the last line.”
“Revved up like a douche.”
Aiden cracks a smile that morphs into a laugh that transforms into something so loud his bronze face turns red.
“What’s so funny?” I demand.
“Shit, Cooper, I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this hard. You think the Boss is singing about douche?”
“Yeah.”
“Deuce. The right word is deuce.”
“How can you rev up a deuce?”
His eyes twinkle with mischief. “I don’t know. How can you rev up douche?” He winces. “Never mind, don’t answer that.”
“You make a point. It can’t be douche,” I concede.
“Also, what’s on his shoulder?”
“Huh?”
“That line. You know…there is a blank on my shoulder.”
“Boner.”
This time, he’s almost gasping for breath by the time he’s done laughing. “Boulder. It’s a boulder on his shoulder. No dude, especially not Bruce, is talking about a boner on his shoulder. Fuck, I’m never gonna be able to listen to this song again.”
He keeps laughing. I join in because now that I think of it, I’ve been singing the song wrong all my life. God, how did no one ever correct me? I’m belting out lyrics about feminine hygiene products and boners for God’s sake. Finally, we gain control of ourselves, growing quiet, catching our breath as the miles drift beneath us.
“Douche,” Aiden whispers, piercing the quiet.
We both crack up all over again.
Chapter Eleven
Emma
As we drive down the Strip, I really am blinded by the light. It’s a feast for the eyes with its neon signs, colored fountains, and wall-to-wall people. There’s something in the air—exhilaration, extravagance, and a little desperation. My heart pumps with a nervous energy. I practically bounce out of my seat.
“Relax, Cooper. Vegas isn’t going anywhere.”
“I’m just excited. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For this,” I say, gesturing to glitzy glamour that is the Strip.
“I had to come here anyway.”
“You didn’t have to bring me, though. This means a lot to me. I never expected this road trip to make me feel new.”
“New?”
I grow quiet. I didn’t mean it like that. He repeats the question.
“Everyone at home looks at me different. Even Nat and Kenneth.”
“How do they look at you?”
“I’m Emma the pitiful, Emma the sad, Emma the girl who lost everything. I get that it comes from a place of concern. I’m tired of being that girl, though. I just want to be Emma the before—the carefree and spirited. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, it does. But that’s the only girl I met. I don’t know the other one you speak of.”
I smile as the Vegas air melts the cloak of gloom that has suffocated me for the past year. “How many fights have you had?”
“Just three. I’m not very experienced…in fighting, anyway.”
There is an undercurrent of sexuality to what he says, but I think it has more to do with distracting me from delving deeper. It works. “I play poker, too,” I tell him.
“You do?”
“Yeah, my parents had Friday night poker parties. They taught me. Did you know my mom played?”
“No, I didn’t. What kind of poker?”
“Hold ’em. Is there another kind?” I joke.
“Not in my book.” He tilts his head. “You any good?”
“I’d say so. My dad always said a woman should know how to handle her cards. I think I can.”
“Think?”
“I won a lot, but it’s not the same playing with your parents’ friends as it is on a table with real stakes.”
“Well, we’ll definitely take some time to get a few hands in.”
“Not this trip. I checked. You have to be twenty-one for the casinos.”
“There are ways,” Aiden says.
Before I can ask him what he means, we pull up to the hotel. Things happen quickly after that. I meet Carson. He’s tall like Aiden, but he’s blonde and fair. They have an interesting relationship, referring to each other as bitch and dickhead—terms of endearment men use that women have a hard time decoding.
Aiden hands me my room key, tells me to get settled and meet them for dinner. I shower and change into a black mini skirt and tank top. The outfit isn’t couture, but it’s the best I’ve got.
On the way to meet them, I pause at a store window in the shiny lobby, checking out the red silk dress with spaghetti straps they have on display. The dress is backless with a deep V-neck, and a sash secures the waist. Although it’s high on sexy, it’s also feminine and classy, too. Not something I’d normally consider, but when in Vegas, who wants to be normal? I wander inside for a closer look. After checking out the hefty price tag, I decide to stick to normal. Normal is much cheaper.
…
Aiden
I told Emma this is my third fight. The truth is it’s just the third legal one. Carson made me go legit. He says if I get my rocks off pounding someone in a cage, then I should at least get some real money out of the deal and have medical personnel on hand. He handles it all for me—the bookings, the contracts, the paperwork. All the shit I hate.
Over the years, he’s done a lot for me. I didn’t think I’d pass the Marine physical. Carson and I trained together. His father, who we refer to as the Major, helped, too. The Major didn’t just pull strings…he plucked them. I went into the Marines an empty vessel. I emerged a full-fledged jarhead, transformed from scared puppy to Devil Dog. Oorah!
Carson is everything I’m not. He comes from a good family, has money and a ton of friends. I don’t really get why we’re close, but I’m glad we are.
I’d lay in front of a train for him. But the way he’s staring at Emma, his life might be in danger…from me. I try not to growl at him. Through the windows of the sushi restaurant, we both watch as she holds up a red dress in the upscale store across from the lobby.
I smack him on the back of the head. “Cut it out, bitch.”
“Fuck, what was that for?”
“Stop ogling her.”
“Who is she again?” he asks.
“I told you, dickhead. She’s my ex-stepmother’s daughter.”
“That’s a mouthful.”
“Tell me about it.”
“You don’t look at her like a sister.”
“’Cause she’s not.” I practically snarl my reply.
Carson arches his eyebrow at me. I bet he plucks them. That little gem of a revelation goes straight into my back pocket for a rainy day.
“She’s hot.”
I shrug as if I don’t know this. “She’s okay.” I play it off, aloof and disinterested.
“Cool. You’re not into her. So you don’t mind if I ask her out.”
Okay, aloof just backfired. “She has a boyfriend,” I say quickly. For once, I’m happy about Kenneth’s existence.
“Too bad.”
Yeah, too bad.
“Besides, she may not be my sister, but you are my brother.”
“You saying I’m too good for her?”
“The opposite actually. I know how you think, and there’s no way you’re getting close to her.”
He laughs, tipping back his drink. “Like you’re any better.
”
I’m not better. I’m much, much worse.
We stand as Emma approaches.
“Were you waiting long?” she asks, taking the seat I pull out for her.
“Not too long, but I did order our first plate,” I tell her. “I think you’ll find it…adventurous.”
“What are we having?” she asks, placing the cloth napkin on her lap.
I grin as the waitress heads in our direction with said plate. “You’ll find out.”
Emma quirks an eyebrow at me as the waitress sets down her plate. “Is this…?”
“Eel.” I pick one up with my chopsticks and swallow it whole. “Enjoy.”
She laughs, just as I knew she would.
Chapter Twelve
Emma
I had fun with Aiden and Carson last night. Although I am not the biggest fan of eel, I did love all the other food. Carson challenged me to a sushi eating contest. I ate my weight in sticky rice and wasabi.
Today, Aiden has his game face on. He spends the day working out and preparing for his match. I go sightseeing and check out Hoover Dam. I can’t go to the casinos since I’m not of age. Mostly, I just people-watch. Vegas must be the greatest place on earth for that pastime.
Aiden’s match is the second in a long lineup. There’s a knock on my door about an hour before. I expect Aiden or Carson, not a bellman with a large white box. I tip him and place the item on the bed. There is a note.
Hey, Emma,
Thought you might want to look nice. —Aiden.
Okay, how should I take this? It implies I don’t usually look nice. But then again, Aiden’s not exactly a man who waxes poetic. I lift the lid of the box. Gasping, I take in the dress…the red dress from the store window. He must have seen me looking at it.
Shit.
This dress is ridiculously expensive. Not that he’s let me pay for anything so far. The room I’m in is really nice, too.
I turn to the urn.
“What should I do, mom?”
She doesn’t reply.
I decide to wear the dress. He’ll be hurt otherwise, and it’s so beautiful. I spend an extra long time on my preparations, blow-drying my hair until it falls like a silky curtain around me. I go a little heavy on the makeup, too. I have to do my shadow over three times to get from singed-eye to smoky-eye, but I finally achieve the effect. Even though it clashes with the outfit, I put on my dad’s watch. It gives me a sense of comfort.