by James, Leigh
Corey and Jake took the fist watch. “No unnecessary heroics,” John told Jake. “I mean it. Keep it quiet, but make sure you have the entire perimeter covered. If you hear anything,” John said, looking at Corey now, “get me and Matthew immediately. Understood?”
They both nodded and jogged off. “Don’t they ever get tired?” I asked, yawning.
“They’ll crash after this,” John said, “but it’s good for them. Corey is a machine. And Jake was ready to snap back at home. He’s young — he needs the action.” He turned to me. “We need to get some sleep,” he said, pulling me into one of the tents. There were a bunch of our supplies in the tent, but only two sleeping bags.
“Are we in here by ourselves?” I asked.
“Yes,” John said, lying down and patting the bag next to him, “but not because I’m trying to get your clothes off. Although really, if I’m being honest, I’m always trying to get your clothes off. Tonight I’ll give you a break, though. You need to rest, and so do I, before I take watch.”
“I can do that with you,” I said, getting into my sleeping bag and feeling my eyes get heavy immediately. I was exhausted.
“Matthew will do it,” John said, stroking my hair gently. “He’d be pissed if I let him sleep and took you instead. I’ll have Jake and Corey come in here after their watch, if that’s okay with you.” I nodded. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you all alone.”
“S’kay,” I said, reaching out and holding his hand. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
When I woke up later I was disoriented. It was still dark; I felt around for John but he wasn’t there. I lit up my watch; it was three a.m. local time. I felt around for my flashlight and I clicked it on, seeing Jake and Corey sleeping heavily on the other side of the tent. I sat up, listening for John and Matthew outside, but I didn’t hear anything except for a mosquito buzzing around my head.
It reminded me that I needed to reapply my bug spray. I’d be damned if I brought home yellow fever as a souvenir from our trip. I was rummaging through my bag, trying to be quiet, when I saw it.
And not the “it” I was looking for.
“Baaaaah!” I screamed. Or rather, I tried to scream. Only a muffled moaning sound came out, but it must have been enough to startle it. I watched, in silent horror, as it crawled away from me — towards Jake and Corey.
It was a Brazilian Wandering Spider. Just like in my leaflet. Big — six inches across, at least, bigger than my hand outstretched — hairy, and venomous. And headed towards the guys, who were asleep.
John! I screamed, but it was like a nightmare. No sound was coming out. John, please! I screamed again, and then I watched as it reached Jake’s sleeping bag. And climbed up on it.
No, no, no! It was moving towards the top, towards his sleeping face. He was on his back, his mouth open, snoring lightly.
No no no no no — PLEASE! was all I could think, all I could hear wailing inside my head.
But something about seeing Jake’s mouth open like that, with the hairy spider so close, was enough to get me to move. I would’ve wanted somebody to move if it were me.
I looked around wildly, seeing my makeup bag open and a wide-toothed comb sitting on top. I grabbed it and lunged towards the other end of the tent. “Get off him!” I yelled, finally finding my voice. Jake startled and for a precipitous moment, the spider swayed near his open mouth. I would have thrown up if I’d had the time. Instead, I took the comb and literally combed the spider off his face.
It brushed my leg as it flew by me. I could feel its dense hairiness.
I whirled around and for a moment I couldn’t see it. I swung my flashlight wildly as I heard the guys start asking what was wrong behind me.
“SPIDER!” I screamed, finally finding my voice. “Hairy, poisonous SPIDER!” Finally, I spied it on the ground, heading towards John’s sleeping bag. For some reason, this enraged me. I felt myself start to burn with anger, with hate. I saw my sneaker on the floor and I grabbed it.
“Come here, you fucker!” I yelled, and ran towards it. Ominously, it reared up on its hind legs at me and swerved side to side, like it was a boxer.
“What the FUCK?” I yelled. “Stop it! STOP IT!” And then I took the sneaker and I smacked it, getting closer to the evil thing than I’d ever intended. It bounced back up, seemingly indestructible, and started moving towards me on its hind legs again.
I was petrified, but more than that, I was tired of being petrified.
“Not tonight, fucker!” I screamed, and started bashing it repeatedly with the shoe. “It’s YOUR turn to die!” I smashed it again and again, at first until it went limp, and then until it was reduced to blackish blood and chunks smeared all over John’s sleeping bag. “Die, you motherfucker!” I heard myself yell, and I heard the tent door unzip behind me, but I didn’t stop until I had smeared the spider into a flat, gooey, brackish mess.
“What’s going on?” John asked quietly behind me as I knelt, panting, at the base of his sleeping bag.
“Liberty just killed a spider,” Corey said, deadpan. “No biggie.”
John crouched down next to me. “Honey, are you okay?” he looked with some interest at the shoe I was clutching, and at the remains of his sleeping bag.
“Um-hmm,” I said, nodding. I could feel the blankness on my face. I can’t believe I just killed that thing. It was absolutely freaking huge. And it charged me.
“Yep. I’m okay.”
He helped me up and looked at me skeptically,
“It was on Jake’s face,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jake’s absolutely horrified expression and wished he hadn’t heard me. “I told you I hate spiders,” I said, shrugging. “Something in me just snapped.”
“Okay, babe,” John said, patting me gently on the back. A lesser man would have backed out of the tent and ran away. “Why don’t you come outside with me? But put some shoes on — some other shoes,” he said, taking the sneaker away from me. He wrapped it up in the sleeping bag and brought the whole mess outside, where he promptly threw it out, far into the underbrush. Some animal could find shelter in it.
I shivered. I was not really into animals right now.
“Come with me,” John said, tucking me into his side. We stood at part of the perimeter; he waved to Matthew in the distance. “Try to rest against me. We’re leaving soon. Don’t think about any of what just happened…but Liberty, you know what?”
“What?” I asked, the world around me turning grey as I sunk into his chest, feeling safe, warm and protected. I was pretty sure I was in shock. Post-hairy spider shock.
“That was awesome. Now the spiders are afraid of you. Good girl,” he said, and held me close.
Not sleeping enough made me feel like I was on drugs, even though I’d never taken drugs, so the next morning I was punchy and erratic. We packed everything except the tents. “They might be infested,” Matthew said, but I chose to ignore his remark and any and all reference that was made that morning to arachnids.
At one point, John told me that Cruz had learned that Darius had passed through American customs yesterday. He told me we were headed straight to Vegas. I nodded at him, not really processing what he was saying. As soon as we got on the plane, I drank some water and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When I woke up it was daylight, we were up above the clouds, and everyone was sitting in their seats, reading, sleeping or playing video games. John was staring out the window at the clouds below.
“Hey,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.
“Hey,” John said, and leaned over and surreptitiously kissed me. “Do you feel better?”
I thought about it for a second. “Yes,” I said. “But I need to use the bathroom. And I’m totally starving.”
“I totally ordered you some pasta,” John said, indulgently. “My little spider assassin needs to be pampered sometimes.”
I went to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. Whoa, I thought. It was
worse than I’d expected. Both my eyes and my hair were puffy, like I’d been out all night doing shots at some fabulous Brazilian club. Instead, I’d slept on a jungle floor, eaten protein mix from a tube and come face to face with you know what. I winced at the memory and splashed some cold water on my face. I put my hair up in a messy bun on top of my head. When I went back out, all the guys were standing, clapping for me.
“What?” I mumbled, feeling myself turn red.
“You were awesome last night,” Matthew said. “You didn’t just kill that thing, you cremated it.” He slapped me on the back, hard.
“Ow,” I said.
“I owe you,” Jake said, hugging me.
“I know you’d do the same for me,” I said.
“Seriously, you’re my dream girl. A girl who can battle a spider that’s coming at her on its hind legs? And is wicked hot? Seriously John, if you weren’t already marrying her —”
“Ha ha,” John said, and I saw Matthew elbow Jake in the ribs.
“Kidding, John, kidding,” Jake said, taking a step backwards. “You were awesome, though, Liberty. Thanks again.” I beamed at him.
“So,” I said, sliding in next to John, “Vegas? Did I hear that right, before I passed out?” I started shoveling the pasta that had just been delivered into my mouth. In a way, I was glad John was used to seeing me like this — starving and unkempt. It made it really easy to stuff my face and just not worry too much about it.
“Vegas, baby,” John said, and his face relaxed into a smile. “Back to where this all started.”
I smiled at him with my mouth full. “Maybe we can clean out my apartment when we’re done?” I asked, not knowing what “done” meant in the context of Darius. “And I can see some of the girls?”
“You’re probably going to see the girls later tonight,” John said. “We have to secure the club, and Cruz’s house.”
I nodded at him thoughtfully. It was wild to think about going back. I hadn’t known when, or if, I would set foot in the Treasure Chest again. So much had changed since I left…my whole life had changed. More importantly, I’d changed beyond my wildest dreams. In some ways I was still the same, but in others…I had a family now, when I’d never felt like I had a family before. I had a home. I trusted people. I was strong, still, but I was no longer alone.
I was different. Plus, I’d had sex, been held prisoner and learned to shoot a gun. It’d been a busy couple of months. “What else did I miss?” I asked. “How’s Ian?”
“Ian’s okay. Eva’s not. Ian said she cant stop crying — that having Catherine come back and leave again like that was a shock for her. It’s reopened all the old wounds,” John said, looking back out the window.
“I’m sorry,” I said. Fucking Catherine, I thought. Why couldn’t she just be decent?
“Did anybody read you the note she left me?” I asked. In all the excitement and confusion of the last twenty-four hours, I hadn’t told him.
“Ian read it to me this morning,” John said, thoughtfully.
“It made me worry about her,” I said. “It made me worry about how much control Angel has over her.” John nodded thoughtfully. “When I saw her in the hospital, she said that Angel had asked her for ‘absolute loyalty.’ He didn’t want her to keep ties to her family,” I said. “But that note, even though it was rude, it made me think…”
“It made you think she would contact us if she could?” John asked.
I nodded. “If she could. But she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to.”
John blew out a long breath and looked out the window.
“Have you heard anything about her?” I asked, careful to keep my voice neutral. “From Ethan?”
John shook his head. “They’re back in Matamoros. Ethan hasn’t seen her or Angel. I told him to keep his distance, though, because after what we did, they’ll be on high alert.”
I nodded. “You’re just going to have Ethan stay down there?”
“For now,” John said, lightly, as if he were closing the subject. “I’ll deal with it later.”
“Speaking of things we want to deal with later,” I said, looking at him and frowning, “what’s the deal with Ray?”
“Ray is in a lovely rehab facility located in central Oregon,” John said. “It has a spa with jacuzzis. They do yoga and acupuncture. They go for long hikes in the woods and have a gourmet chef on the premises.”
“It sounds…posh,” I said. “It must cost a fortune.”
“It does,” John said. “Of course, Ray picked it out himself.”
I shook my head. “He has some cojones,” I said, baffled that he would ask John for money like that.
“Honey, you shouldn’t be surprised,” he said. “Ray’s a scumbag. He has no floor for bad behavior. He just keeps going down.”
“So, what are you going to do with him?” I asked. “Support him for the rest of his life?”
“Well, since I can’t kill him…” John said, trailing off. He shot me a pleading look for a second but he knew it was hopeless, so he just continued. “I figure my generosity can last through Christmas. I’ll let him enjoy thinking that he’s found a fabulous, sustainable cash cow. Then I’ve arranged to have two of his former best clients testify against him for a long list of items. Enough to put him away for practically an eternity.”’ He flashed me a brilliant smile.
“What if he threatens to go to the press about you?” I asked. John’s company was completely off the radar. I could only imagine the number of federal and international laws he’d broken. It would be a Senate committee’s wet dream to get their hands on someone like him.
“I’ll tell him I have guys in prison, and that they’d love to make him their little bitch-puppet.”
“You have guys in prison? In Oregon?” I asked, incredulously.
“Not yet,” John said, shrugging. “But I can get some if I need to.”
“Awesome,” I said, smiling at the thought of Ray in prison for a million years, being someone’s bitch-puppet, whatever that was. That outcome suited me just fine.
“Totally,” John said, grabbing my hand, settling in and looking out the window.
“We’re staying here?” I asked John. It was The Byzantine. I’d walked by it a hundred times, looking at its opulent, sky-high facade, wondering why the hell people would pay three thousand dollars a night just to stay there.
But now I knew. It was because they could.
“I thought you should stay in Vegas in style, for once,” John said, rubbing my back. “Once we catch Darius, we can even go to dinner.”
“I never went out to dinner once while I lived here,” I said, and laughed. “Unless you count Stop N Go Burger — which I do.”
“Mmmm, Stop N Go,” Matthew said, rolling up behind us on the sidewalk.
“You’re staying here, too?” I asked.
“In the cheap seats, but yeah, we all are. John’s treating us,” Matthew said. “We need to take you on every assignment, Lib. He’s much nicer when you’re around.”
I laughed, but my heart sank a little. If I had it my way, there weren’t going to be any more assignments. I looked at Matthew and thought about his little boy and pregnant wife, and my stomach sank even further. Not now, my inner voice reasoned. Let’s not go there right now.
The lobby of the hotel was even more amazing than the outside, if that was possible. It was sleek and ultra-modern, with stone floors, onyx-black walls, soaring ceilings, and large, dark, inscrutable sculptures. The reception desk was a long, thin rectangle of solid stone; I couldn’t see any computers, phones, or a scrap of paper anywhere. John went and checked us in. I would have collapsed on one of the slim leather chairs that tastefully dotted the room, but I hadn’t showered since before we went to Campo Grande; plus, I was worried I would break it.
A silent elevator whisked us up to the top of the building a little while later. Matthew and the rest of the guys got out first, on a lower floor. “Enjoy the cheap seats,” I called to them.
When we got to our “room” I almost passed out. “This isn’t a room,” I called walking around the enormous dining and living space, “this is a palace.”
“You deserve the best,” John said, dropping our things and pulling me into an embrace. We looked out onto the view of the strip, calm in the grayish early evening light.
I kissed him quickly and walked into the bedroom; there was a view of the city center from here. The bedroom was white and opulent, as was the bathroom; it was separated by a glass wall through which you could see a square tub, glittering, already-lit candles, and several buddhas.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit…much?” I asked. “Doesn’t it all just seem a little…excessive?”
John laughed. “It’s Vegas, baby. This is what the visitors want. It’s supposed to be excessive. It’s like New York City on steroids, and without Woody Allen. That’s why I never stay here for longer than 48 hours, if I can help it. And I always leave with a headache.” He kissed my nose. “We don’t have much time. Let’s order some food, get cleaned up, and head over to the Treasure Chest.”
“I only have my camouflaged clothes,” I said.
“That’s what we need,” John said. “We might have to hide out in a dumpster, or something. So take a shower while you can. I’ll order food and call Cruz.”
I removed my filthy clothes and stepped carefully into the immaculate, porcelain shower. Hot water had never felt so good — at least, not since I first got back from Mexico. The water ran black as the filth from the forest and all my nervous sweat washed off. The shampoo smelled like heaven. Not as good as what John used, but pretty close. I scrubbed every inch of myself and took deep breaths, trying to calm down. It was starting to hit me that we were going to the club tonight, and that we were there for one reason alone. Darius.