A flicker in her side mirror prompted Madalina to glance out the back window. The glare of headlights less than a quarter mile off their bumper gave her a good excuse to ignore his question. “They’re catching up!”
“That car is probably pegged out, and we’re not even close to being pegged out yet. Don’t worry. They won’t catch up. I’m just waiting until we pass the state line to really open it up.”
“You sound confident.”
“I am confident.”
“You must be one hell of a bodyguard.”
“I serve my purpose well enough.”
Madalina spent several moments chasing away another bout of dizziness. She might not be smashingly drunk, but the two drinks had definitely left their mark—in more than one way. The pressure on her bladder grew increasingly uncomfortable, causing her to shift in her seat and bounce a knee in distraction. Aware that there were long stretches of road beyond the state line without services of any kind, she started to fret, twisting the strap of her purse between her fingers. After a few minutes of tentative hesitation, she said, “I hate to even say this—”
“Then don’t.” He shot her a concerned frown.
“I have to use the restroom.”
“Can’t you hold it? We need to keep going.”
“I really can’t. I’m sorry.” Madalina checked the distance of the sedan, which seemed to have fallen back a few lengths, then glanced at Cole. The strong outline of his profile was pleasing to look at, she decided, not for the first time. He had a certain ruggedness about him that vied with his natural GQ attributes. She thought he probably looked as appealing in construction gear as he did in a tuxedo. Some men were like that, able to wear many hats and look good doing it.
Cole tapped his thumb on the top of the steering wheel. He glanced in the rearview mirror, then looked back to the road.
“Cole? I really can’t wait.”
“I heard you.”
“Can we lose them if we get off at the state line?” Madalina knew that several casinos sat on each side of the freeway, and although they weren’t nearly as glamorous as the ones in Vegas, they would suit her purpose. She understood that getting off the freeway right now would probably be risky. But her body insisted she do it—or else.
“We’re going to have to.” He shot her an impatient look and sped up. The speedometer inched toward 110, then 115.
Madalina clutched her purse with one hand and the armrest with the other. Although the Jaguar glided along as if on a current of air, there was no denying the sense that they were hurtling forward ever faster. The gloomy dunes and cliffs of the desert, jagged silhouettes in the night, blurred past the window.
“This is what we’re going to do. I’ll try to put a few cars between us so that when we get off the freeway, maybe the men in the sedan will be too far back to notice. I doubt it, but we don’t have any other choice. I’ll go to Buffalo Bill’s, because it’s across the highway on our left, and I’m hoping that if they do realize we diverted, they’ll waste time looking in the casinos on the right. I’ll drop you at the doors and find somewhere out of sight to park and wait.”
“Isn’t it a bad idea to split up?” Madalina suffered a sudden bout of angst at the thought of being parted from Cole. He might be a little abrasive and somewhat abrupt, but she did feel safe with him. Safer than if he dumped her off at the state line to fend for herself. Ahead, glittering lights disrupted the endless dark of the desert. The casinos were less than a mile away.
“What else do you suggest we do? We can’t waltz in there like we don’t have a care in the world. If they see us leaving the freeway, it’s going to be hell evading them anyway. I won’t have time to park and escort you in and out. We’ll be lucky if they don’t see me drop you off at the doors—which would be a nightmare, I don’t mind saying.”
Madalina closed her eyes. She’d never driven this fast in any car. If the ride hadn’t been butter smooth, she might have begged him to slow down. No longer did she want to glance at the speedometer, too afraid of what she might see. “I’ll hurry.”
“Attagirl.” He passed a car. And another. Their exit came up, and Cole swerved off the interstate.
Madalina pushed her feet into the floorboards when he didn’t slow down. “Cole . . . Cole . . . Cole!” They were going to flip over. There was no way he could make the left turn coming up, no way to avoid the mild flow of cross traffic at the red light. They were going to get hit broadside and wind up end over end, a ball of wreckage under the overpass.
Her pessimist tendencies obliterated the glowing optimism she’d arrived in Vegas with. So much for Positive Thinking: The Power of Optimism.
“Shh, shh,” he murmured.
“You can’t make this turn! Slow down!” Madalina’s heart thumped wildly in her chest—in her throat—as they flew toward the red light. Cole seemed intent but in control, as if he took kamikaze left turns at eighty miles an hour on a regular basis. She yelped in terror as he hit the brakes and yanked the wheel. The Jaguar slid into the intersection, back end swinging wide, tires barking on asphalt. The angry blare of a horn alerted her to a near miss. By some miracle, after a frantic fishtail that Cole pulled out of, the Jaguar shot forward, no longer in danger of smashing into the overpass wall. Madalina clapped a hand to her chest with relief, then shot a hot glare across the car.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said without glancing over. “I’m not the one who has to take a piss.”
“Don’t be so crass.”
“Would you rather I dress it up in fancy terms? I’m not the one who has to use the ladies’ room. Is that better?” His words dripped with sarcasm. He checked the mirrors, then sped into the Buffalo Bill’s parking lot. An enormous roller coaster spanned a good portion of the entrance, winding past trees toward the towering casino, where it appeared to arch higher than the roof. Painted a deep shade of red and designed with a western theme in mind, Buffalo Bill’s proved to be as busy as any other Vegas casino. Pedestrians walked to and fro like ants, anxious to spend their hard-earned cash. Three cars sat in front of the entrance under a broad breezeway, with room for more vehicular traffic. Cole slipped the Jaguar into the small queue, relentlessly scanning the mirrors.
“You’re going to have to find a restroom at some point during the four and a half hours it’ll take us to get home,” Madalina countered. She twined the strap of her purse around her wrist, impatiently waiting for the car ahead to pull forward.
“I’ll have lost them for sure by the time we hit Baker.”
“Do you think we’ve lost them now?” Madalina bit back a few sharp comments in favor of learning whether or not the Chinese men might be following her inside the casino.
“I think so. I don’t see the sedan anywhere back there. It’s not a sure bet, though. If they think we got off, they’ll circle back and search the area. We don’t want to be here when they do.”
“All right.” She brushed a loose lock of hair off her forehead and exited the Jaguar when Cole pulled abreast of the front doors. Feeling like she had a target on her back, Madalina entered the casino and paused briefly to get her bearings. On impulse, before she could take in too much detail, she glanced back; the Jaguar and Cole were already gone. A fissure of apprehension skittered across her shoulders, sending a swarm of goose bumps down her arms. It was a bad idea to split up. She just knew it.
The air inside the casino caressed her skin in gentle waves that blew down from unseen vents, cooling the sweat that popped up on her brow. Slot machines lined the walls and stood in majestic rows in the middle of the floor, the incessant chirp of spinning reels indicating there was no lack of serious players. Trees decorated with tiny white lights added a whimsical flair to the otherwise western theme. Spotting a sign for the ladies’ room, she cut through foot traffic and pushed inside with a sigh of relief. Despite the fact that he was a veritable stranger, Ma
dalina couldn’t wait to be done and find Cole. The separation, only minutes old, was already straining her nerves.
She realized that she didn’t know where he lived or if he was married. Did it matter? There were people in the world who took it upon themselves to help others, those who sacrificed their time and energy, people with vast amounts of compassion and a healthy moral code.
Even grouches.
Cole didn’t have to drive her all the way to Los Angeles. He was doing it, in his words, because she needed and deserved help. There was something totally selfless about the act that overrode his cranky tendencies.
Washing her hands after she used the facilities and relieved her screaming bladder, Madalina yanked a few towels from the dispenser and stared at her wide-eyed reflection in the mirror. She thought she looked different, although she couldn’t pinpoint how. Her cheeks were flushed, but that might have been from the drinks. But it was more than that—something wizened in her expression that hadn’t been there before, a deeper layer uncovered by a life-altering event. One more notch of innocence chipped away.
Exiting the restroom, feeling as conspicuous as if a spotlight marked her trek toward the doors, she cast furtive glances at the crowd and remained alert for suspicious activity. She chided herself for not making specific, last-second plans with Cole before getting out of the car. Would he be waiting at the curb? Or was he hiding out of sight, timing his reappearance to some inner clock that let him know how long it took a woman to do her business?
A gust of arid desert heat pricked her skin the second she stepped outside. Two SUVs sat at the curb while valets unloaded luggage, and another sedan—tan, not black—pulled in behind them.
She didn’t see the Jaguar anywhere.
Madalina paced the concrete in front of the doors, anxiously surveying which sections of the parking lot she could see from her vantage point. Despite the endless flash of neon lights and the glow from a fat midsummer moon, it wasn’t easy to pick out a black car among rows and rows of vehicles.
Five minutes ticked by. Madalina didn’t know whether to retreat inside or wait there for Cole. She had an intense desire to see him again, to sink herself into the security of his presence. It was amazing, she thought, that she didn’t realize how much he’d affected her until he was gone.
What would she do if he’d abandoned her here? Left her to find her own way home, decided she was too much trouble to deal with? She had no car, no easy transportation to the airport back in Las Vegas. There were probably shuttles and taxis, although the latter would cost a small fortune. Her mother and father were traveling half a world away, and poor Lianne was sick as a dog. She didn’t want to involve them anyway until she knew what was going on. Knew how much danger she might be in. Perhaps this madness was a case of mistaken identity. The Asians had the wrong girl. Uncharacteristically, she nibbled the edge of a fingernail and darted equally hopeful and fearful looks toward every vehicle that cruised to the curb.
Fidgety and restless, she considered the idea that her assailants had found Cole and attacked him as he was getting out of the car. Crept up from behind, knocked him unconscious before he had time to defend himself. Maybe he hadn’t seen them coming.
Another minute went by. And another.
Still no sign of Cole.
Madalina worried that the unthinkable had come true.
Contingency plan A consisted of bartering with a tour bus driver for a ride back to the Southland. Buses packed with seniors made frequent round-trips to the state line, arriving and departing at different intervals. Currently, three buses were lined up adjacent to the entrance, although what their schedules were, she couldn’t say.
Contingency plan B involved begging a semitruck driver for mercy. She thought she had a better shot at that plan, except that meant chatting with a stranger for four hours and coming up with an explanation as to why she needed a ride in the first place.
More distraught by the second, Madalina scoured the parking lot, her mind working furiously through plans of action. Squinting when a new pair of headlights flashed across the entrance, Madalina wilted with relief to see the familiar black Jaguar. In the next instant, as if she suffered bipolar problems, irritation and annoyance surfaced.
Where the hell had he been?
She headed to the car, opened the door, and fell into the seat.
“I thought I saw the sedan in the parking lot while I was finding a decent place to hide, and had to wait until the car was gone to come get you,” he said right off the bat.
“We should have exchanged phone numbers or something. I thought you’d changed your mind and left me here.” The irritation faded as his explanation sank in. Once more, relief was the stronger emotion of the two. She suspected that anyone unused to being on the run, being hunted, would have similar reactions.
The scent of his cologne, musky and spicy and a little sexy, had grown on Madalina in the two hours she’d known him. Inhaling while she fastened her belt, she thought she should be worried to hear he’d possibly spotted the Asians, but her internal angst meter was already pegged to the hilt.
He cruised around a parked SUV and drove toward the frontage road. “You think I’d leave you stranded?” he asked.
Madalina glanced sidelong at him, guilt flushing her cheeks. “Not really. Maybe. I don’t know. Although I suppose I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
“That’s not my style.” He checked his mirrors and aimed for the freeway on-ramp.
“What is your style?” she asked, setting her purse on the floor beside her feet. She couldn’t help looking out the windows, front and back, although she wasn’t sure what she expected to see. Darkness made it all but impossible to pick out any details on distant cars.
“This. Doing what I’m doing. Not leaving a woman stranded when she’s clearly in trouble.”
“You know, I was thinking about that. What if this is all a case of mistaken identity? What if they have the wrong woman? That’s possible, isn’t it?”
“Possible, but not probable. It took guts and a little desperation for them to take you out of the casino, risking security or the cops being called. I don’t think they’d make a move unless they were sure they had the right person.” He reached over to turn the air up and adjust the vents. The Jaguar blended with traffic, which was mildly heavy this close to the state line. Ahead, as the long road stretched into the desert, the congestion faded to a few red eyes that glowed bright only when the brakes came on.
“None of this makes much sense to me,” Madalina admitted, bracing her elbow on the sill so she could rest her head in her palm. She glanced at Cole with a frequency she hoped he didn’t notice. He was much better to look at than the nothingness out the window, and the distraction helped manage her stress.
“And it won’t until you get some answers. Did your grandfather leave anything to your mom and dad?” He met her eyes briefly.
“A small vacation house in Rio and five thousand dollars. My grandfather liked to travel, even though he wasn’t a rich man. He knew I wouldn’t pull up roots to go to Brazil, so he left the house to my parents.”
“Brazil, huh? Interesting. No little collectible dragons or fairies or anything like that?” he asked.
“Nothing they ever mentioned. My folks wanted to give me the house and the five grand, because they knew—” She paused, then changed the course of her reply. “Because they wanted me to see a little more of the world. I’m the only one in four generations who hasn’t been bitten by the travel bug.”
He glanced across the car again, as if he sensed she’d switched her comment. “Have you ever been out of the states?”
“No. I’ve been all over this country, though. East coast, north, west, you name it. My parents made sure I experienced as much as I could during school breaks.” Unable to help herself, Madalina said, “What about you? Do you travel a lot with your job?”
Madalina tried to guess his age. He definitely wasn’t straight out of high school or even his early twenties. Cole had outgrown the exuberance of youth and handled himself like a seasoned man. He didn’t have a lot of wrinkles, but he did have laugh lines at the corners of his mouth and a few crinkles around his eyes. “What was your favorite place to visit?”
“That’s too hard to call. I’m a fan of Europe, though, and I’ve been to Rio. Your parents better like busy cities.”
“They’ll get by.” After a moment, she asked, “Where is it that you make your home?”
“I live in Rhode Island, but I’m not there very much. And I have several rentals other places. Canada, London, Italy.”
“You really do get around.”
“More than you realize.” He laughed quietly.
On impulse, Madalina reached over to turn up the radio. She heard the faintest strains of music, but couldn’t make out songs or lyrics. Cole was an interesting specimen, and she found herself curious about his personal preferences. A rock song spilled out of the speakers—nothing too hard, definitely not metal.
“You can change that if you want to.” He surveyed the rearview mirror. After another glance, he frowned. A subtle but telling expression.
Madalina, stealing glances of her own, noticed his distraction. “What?”
“It’s probably nothing. A car, coming up fast.”
The brief spate of relaxation evaporated in an instant. She sat straighter in her seat, body humming with fresh tension. “Do you think it’s them?”
“Not likely. But I prefer to keep an eye on it until the car passes us by.”
“You’re not going to keep ahead of it?”
“No. We’ll see who it is. I’ve decided I don’t want to play cat and mouse for the next three hours, wondering if they’ll suddenly ram us or start shooting.”
Escaping Vegas (The Inheritance Book 1) Page 4