by Kyra Davis
“Oh.”
“That’s why it doesn’t make sense that Alexander would be behind this. Why would he want to risk getting caught up in that? But you should still stay the hell away from him,” he quickly added. The sun was even lower now. I had never seen the sunset over the desert and I wondered if it would be as red as the dirt we were walking on.
“I have to go,” he said.
“No. You’re not leaving me again.”
“Natasha didn’t have her family’s permission to do what she did today. I can use that to make sure she doesn’t come near you again. If you go back to San Francisco it’ll look like the break-up is permanent. You’ll be safe.”
“Anatoly--”
“I have to figure this out. Natasha can help me but she won’t if you’re by my side.” He ran his hands over my hair. “You can’t tell anyone you saw me.”
“Obviously.”
“Please leave Vegas, Sophie.”
“No.”
Again he sighed and this time he gently pulled me to him, kissing my lips so gently that at first it felt like the tickle of a feather. But then it became deeper, more passionate…I felt myself melting against him and automatically my hands went up into his hair as I tried to pull him even closer to me, to make my Heathcliff part of “my own being.”
But of course there was no way of doing that…not in a physical way, and as his hands moved up and down my back I felt him gently pull away.
“Have you forgiven me?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
He traced my jaw line with his finger and then lifted my chin so I was looking up into his dark brown eyes again. “You don’t have to,” he said hoarsely. “But I want to fix this.”
I could hear the concern in his voice and I wanted to tell him it was all going to be okay but that would be like one agnostic trying to convince another that there really was a heaven. I wanted to believe in our future…more than anything. But I wasn’t sure anymore. Our lives were in danger and he was about to walk away from me and into the waiting arms of his ex-wife who had just tried to kill me…no, that wasn’t right. She wasn’t his ex anything. And if all that wasn’t enough to drive a wedge between us, he was also keeping secrets from me.
“Anatoly, what’s the real reason you learned to speak Spanish?”
He hesitated, but only briefly. “I’m good with languages. When I got to this country I could see that Spanish would be useful.”
“That’s all?” I didn’t even try to disguise the disbelief in my voice.
He smiled, almost apologetically. If there was more to it he wasn’t going to tell me. “I’m going to have Marcus call a car to come pick you up. I’ll stay until it arrives. Believe it or not we’re only about thirty minutes away from the center of the city.”
“And then you’re leaving again.”
“I have to, Sophie.”
“In that case have Marcus text me when the car arrives. I’m going to sit here by myself for a while.”
“Sophie you shouldn’t--”
“Either stay with me or stop telling me what I should and shouldn’t do.”
He winced “At least you’re travelling light.”
I didn’t know what that meant and as he stepped away from me I wasn’t sure I cared. What mattered was that he was leaving again.
“If you really want to help me, you’ll get out of Vegas. If nothing else I need to know you’re safe.”
I stood stalk still as he turned around and walked away. In a whisper too soft for him to hear I said, “The only way you can know that is if you stay by my side.”
Within minutes he was out of sight.
CHAPTER 18
“Hell has no fury like a writer whose hard drive has crashed.”
--Death Of The Party
True to my word, I didn’t immediately go back to the parking lot. Instead I found a rock to sit on and watched the clouds move across the sky.
I tried not to think about the personal aspects of things. I tried not to think about how it had felt to kiss him or how betrayed I felt now. I had to separate myself from all that and focus on the bigger picture.
The information Anatoly was holding onto sounded nuclear. That was good and bad. On the one hand sane people didn’t mess with individuals who had their finger on the button. So the best-case scenario was that this could turn into a cold war. The mafia could destroy Anatoly and Anatoly could destroy them. We could have a lifelong stalemate. It was a stressful way to live but it was doable.
But if the mob wasn’t what the international community would call a “reasonable player,” it could decide to push the red button regardless of the consequences. It only took one crazy fanatic and really, was it so unlikely that the leader of a crime family might be a little crazy?
Eventually Marcus called to tell me the car had arrived. When I got back to the parking lot Anatoly was gone.
“He could have at least driven us back to the strip,” I grumbled as Marcus held open the door for me.
“He said he would have but it was a bit risky since the Hummer was stolen.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I know, he took us for a ride with his hot Hummer. How can you not love that?”
I wasn’t sure I loved that. I would have thought it was too conspicuous a vehicle to sneak away with but if anyone was capable of carrying off the feat it was Anatoly. As I sat down in the backseat I decided to keep that last thought to myself. I didn’t feel like giving Anatoly accolades, even if they were in regards to his ability to act like an accomplished criminal, particularly since he was an accomplished criminal.
As the car pulled onto the street Marcus leaned his head back against the seat. “Anatoly assures me he can keep Natasha from coming after us again.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” I spat.
Marcus was quiet for a moment before adding, “If he really is going to keep Natasha from killing us he’s probably right about needing to be apart from you for a while.”
“You know what? I don’t care what stupid excuses he gave you. We’re supposed to be a couple. We’re supposed to see things through together. No matter what.”
“Maybe we should leave Ve--”
“No!”
Marcus raised his eyebrows but stayed quiet. After we had been on the road for about ten minutes he called Dena to make sure everyone was okay and to tell her we were heading back to the hotel. He was wise enough not to try to engage me in conversation once he hung up so the only sound in the town car was the instrumental jazz the driver had playing on the radio.
I hated instrumental jazz. I hated everything about this trip. This was not the Vegas from the brochures. We were weekending in a war zone.
When Marcus and I finally got back to the Encore we decided to go up to Leah’s room first. I had the key but I still made a point of pounding on the door before using it.
“Are you knocking or trying to knock it down?” Marcus asked.
“I just want to make sure she can hear me in case…in case she’s listening to her iPod.”
“Okaay,” Marcus said, giving me a confused look.
“Yeah, um, you know what? Let me go in first.” I let myself in and held out a hand indicating that Marcus should stay back. But the lights were out and the bathroom door open, so after releasing the breath I had been holding I ushered him in.
“What’s up with the extreme caution?” Marcus asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is always how I enter hotel rooms.” I opened the top dresser drawer. The gun was still there. It had been so unforgivably careless of me to leave it here. I should have buried it at Red Rock.
“Let’s go back to my room,” I suggested. Little memories kept creeping into the forefront of my consciousness: the first time he kissed me up by Coit Tower; holding his hand the first time we went to see a movie together… Hitchcock. He loved Hitchcock just as much as I did.
I hated that it was the fond memories t
hat were breaking through the wall I was trying to put up in my mind. Why couldn’t I hate him? Really hate him? What was wrong with me?
We walked down the hall and waited for the elevator. I was remembering the first time I rode on the back of his Harley. By the time we were stepping onto the elevator I was reliving the first time he saved my life, the first time he held me while I cried.
Let him go, Sophie. Just let him go!
But when the elevator doors finally opened again I was already lost in the memory of the first time he told me he loved me.
I was barely even aware of Marcus as I slid my keycard into the door. The last time he said he loved me had been less than an hour ago. But that couldn’t be the last-last time! There had to be--
My brain froze in mid-thought as the here and now came crashing down around me. Marcus gasped.
The room was trashed. The blankets pulled off the bed, the drawers were all open and my clothes were scattered on the floor. I stood perfectly still and listened for the sound of an intruder. He would know I was here so he’d be trying to stay quiet too. Still, all I needed was one small tell, a jagged breath, the sound of something rustling, a creak coming from the bathroom, behind the curtain, anywhere that should be silent.
“I don’t hear anything,” Marcus breathed as if reading my mind. He insisted on entering first and I clung to the back of his shirt as he moved forward.
I spotted two suitcases on the floor, the one I had brought and the one they had brought to fool Anatoly. Marcus knelt down by the former...the lining had been ripped open. They probably would have slashed open the lining in both bags if the latter hadn’t already been torn.
My knees buckled underneath me and I dropped down onto the stripped bed.
Marcus checked inside the bathroom “Uh-uh, no!” he cried.
I was immediately on my feet again. The bathroom was a mess. They had dumped my leave-in-conditioner into the sink. “I don’t care how ruthless you are, you do not mess with a sista’s hair products!” Marcus snapped
I spun around and went back into my room, trampling my own clothes as I went to the closed door that adjoined mine with Marcus and Dena’s. Marcus wasn’t far behind, muttering (more to himself than to me), “They better not have gone through my stuff because if they lay a hand on my Bumble & Bumble no one will be safe.”
I put my hand on the doorknob…
…and heard the jagged breath.
Right behind the door in the next room. It hadn’t been loud but I had heard it. A quick glance at Marcus’ face told me he had heard it too.
My heart, which had been breaking all the speed limits, came to an emergency stop.
I instinctively reached inside my purse. I felt the cool steel against my fingers.
As I pulled out the gun my hand was shaking so badly you would have thought I was going through a heroin withdrawal.
I heard the door on the other side of mine creak. Was he closing it or was he going to come into this room? I glanced down at my shaking gun and then at Marcus. I mouthed the word, “run.”
“You run,” he whispered as he gently took the gun out of my hand. “I’m going to get my Bumble & Bumble.”
“Wait!” I hissed as he cocked the gun, threw open the door and leaped into the room, his arms straight in front of him pivoting this way and that in the way we had all seen people do in every action movie ever made. Clothes were strewn all over the floor but the room was empty.
I turned toward the door leading to the hall. It was slowly closing the way weighted doors in hotels do when you let them close behind you on their own. The intruder had already left. I rushed to the door and Marcus rushed to the bathroom, gun outstretched. “Clear!” he shouted. But I wasn’t paying attention. I pulled open the door and jumped into the hall. No one to my right. I heard the sound of an elevator ding at the far end of the hall to my left. I turned just as the doors opened. A dark haired man with his back to me, wearing a long sleeved black t-shirt, stepped onto the elevator. He was carrying the case to my MacBook.
At least you’re traveling light.
That’s what he had meant! I had left the MacBook in my room!
“Son of a bitch!” I screamed.
But, the elevator closed before I could even get close.
Marcus came up beside me, the gun now at his side.
“I thought losing Anatoly was the worst things that could happen to me,” I said.
Marcus put his arm around my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. They didn’t mess with my products so we can share tomorrow.”
“I’m not worried about my hair, Marcus! They took my MacBook which means they now have every electronic copy of my unfinished manuscript and I don’t have a hardcopy!”
“Oh…that is a little worse than losing your leave-in-conditioner.”
“Fuck these assholes.” I turned to Marcus and he literally stepped back from the force of my anger. “They want to go nuclear?” I asked. “Fine, I’m ready blow this shit up, Right. Now.”
CHAPTER 19
“I hate it when my loved ones give me a hard time about my reckless behavior. So now I pick up all my dates outside of Al-Anon meetings. The trick is to get ‘em before they walk in the door.”
--Death Of The Party
Marcus called Dena and caught her up. She was now hightailing it back to the hotel from the trade show. We went down to the casino to look for the rest of our party. We spotted Leah and Mary Ann at the craps table and Leah was jumping up and down like a little girl who had just been told she was going to get a box full of Barbies. I found myself hanging back. Clearly Dena hadn’t filled them in on all the drama with Natasha and Anatoly and I didn’t want to ruin my sister’s good time. I had checked her room and it was still in tact. The intruder got what he wanted so it was best not to interrupt my sister’s rare moment of giddiness. Marcus and I found a spot against the wall and ordered drinks from a passing cocktail waitress.
“I have to go back to Alex’s,” I said as I watched Leah take the dice again.
“Why?” Marcus asked. He was leaning against the wall as if it was the only thing holding him up. In his hand was a plastic bag filled with his hair products. He had decided it wouldn’t leave his sight for the rest of the trip.
“If Natasha’s right and he’s behind this then I have to get close enough to prove it. If she’s wrong then he’s the only one who has offered to help me! And I have to find out where in the hell Anatoly stored that information.”
“Well they’ve stolen both your computers and your storage devices and undoubtedly they’ve stolen his laptop too so…”
“So Anatoly’s not stupid! These people have totally underestimated him! If he was going to store top secret information he wouldn’t put it on his girlfriend’s computer and he wouldn’t store it with all our other USB sticks!”
The waitress arrived with our two cosmopolitans and we clinked our plastic glasses together before we knocked them back.
“You’ve been living with him for more than a year,” Marcus noted. “You never noticed any special, secret hiding place…your sister is moving to the blackjack table.”
“I see that. And I don’t think you find secret hiding places when you’re not looking for them because that’s what makes them secret,” I countered. “He would hide it somewhere I would never check…never even consider going near.”
Marcus raised his eyebrows. “The laundry?”
“Oh shut up!” I downed the rest of my drink and started looking around for another cocktail waitress. “We eat the same food, share the same bathroom, listen to the same music, sleep in the same bed. What else…”
“What?”
I squeezed the empty cup in my hand until it made that plastic scrunching sound. With my free hand I pulled out my phone. “Mama?” I said when my mother answered my call. “It’s me.”
“Mommehlah, where are you? Your sister called and said you both were staying through Monday? You’re not getting married again are you?
There’s only so much an old woman can take before she starts getting ulcers!”
I glanced over at Leah. She was studying her cards with an intensity that implied that the stakes were maybe a little higher than they should be. I wondered how much this little rebellion was going to cost her.
“Mama everything’s fine…but I need one more favor. In my garage there is a box of books. The box is marked Library and on the top of the pile are a few books on soccer. I need you to look to see if there’s anything inside those books.”
“Of course there’s going to be something inside those books! Pages and pages of something!”
“No, no, something else. Look, if you see any cars parked anywhere near my place or anyone even slightly suspicious hanging around you just drive on past. But if not, get those soccer books. Please?”
“The things I do for you, mommelah! If we were Catholic I’d be a saint already!”
I almost pointed out that one would have to die for that honor but decided against it. “Thank you, Mama, I owe you.”
I hung up the phone.
“You would never open a soccer book,” Marcus said thoughtfully as he finished off his drink.
“No, I wouldn’t. Not unless Anatoly’s life…and my manuscript, depended on it.”
“Found you.”
We both looked up to see Dena approaching. She pushed herself between us and leaned lightly on her cane. “Well you two have had quite the day, haven’t you?” She said irritably. “I can’t believe you didn’t come right back here after Natasha tried to kill you.”
“I didn’t have a choice! Anatoly took us out to Red Rock. Anyway, he promised Natasha wouldn’t try to kill us again.”
“Oh, gee, really? Was it a pinky promise?” Dena asked. “Too bad he couldn’t promise that no one would break into our room. Did you happen to see if this intruder made off with my leather underwear?”
“I don’t think so,” Marcus said. “I’m not sure the black market value for leather panties is all that high. Of course there are fetishists who have a thing for used panties...”