Vegas is Dying (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 2)

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Vegas is Dying (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 2) Page 22

by Morgan Kelley


  Finally gathering the nerve, he reached for it. Once in his hand, there was a ‘clink’ as something fell from inside and landed by his foot on the floor.

  Croft stared down and everything in him stopped. Even the worst scenarios in his mind hadn’t prepared him for this. The world slammed to a stop as everything in life officially ended in that moment.

  “Oh God,” he whispered as he bent over to retrieve his wife’s wedding rings. If they were here and she wasn’t, that didn't bode well for anything that was about to come.

  Fear shook him as he opened the note and stared down at the words. It took him a few attempts to read it, only because his brain wouldn’t grasp the concept.

  I’m giving you what you wanted. I’ll go far away.

  Goodbye, Greyson.

  He had never felt such terror in his life. There on the paper were his own words handed back to him. His Emma was gone, and it was entirely his fault. In his anger, stupidity, and arrogance he allowed the only good thing in his life to escape.

  Staring down into his hand at the wedding rings and what they meant, he couldn’t breathe.

  For the first time in his life, he couldn’t think. If this was the end, how did he wake up tomorrow, and face it all alone, knowing he caused this?

  He sat on the floor and rested his back against the wall as he tried to put together a coherent thought. Unfortunately, like his wife, his ability to think, breathe, and go on living were now gone too.

  What did he do now that Emma had walked out of his life?

  It was funny. Suddenly, her lying to him didn't seem like such a big issue now that she was gone.

  It was a lesson Greyson learned a little too late.

  ~ Chapter Nine ~

  Emma dropped her bag on the bed and stared around the room. She’d picked a really nice hotel in the center of the Vegas strip. If she was going to run away from life, it might as well be to a decent place where she could get room service and a soft comfortable bed.

  Why suffer more than she already was?

  When she checked in, the woman asked how long she’d be staying, and Emma didn't have an answer.

  Indefinitely?

  Was there a room rate for that?

  At this point, she honestly didn't know. Right now, she needed to regroup, refocus, and try to figure out what to do. So many thoughts barreled through her mind.

  Did she need to find an apartment?

  How pricy was a divorce for only six weeks of marriage?

  Thank God, there were no kids.

  Sitting on the corner of the bed, Emma kept staring at her ring-less finger. She wondered if when he found them, if he’d even care. Would Greyson simply shrug, placing them in the box and walk away? With all the anger he was feeling, Emma found it hard to believe he’d even bat an eyelash at her being gone.

  Again, the tears came as she was racked with sobs that shook her body, making her sick to her stomach. If she believed it was hard when Greyson was away for work, she never anticipated how difficult it would be to intentionally distance herself from him.

  Emma was feeling as if someone snapped her in half. Right now, she was left holding the damaged part of her heart as she was shoved away from the man she loved.

  God, already she missed him.

  Even if he didn't miss her.

  In her purse sat her phone. Emma had turned it off, hoping to ignore him, but now she wanted to leave him a way to find her.

  The rational part of her mind kicked in. No, he wanted her to go away.

  It said it all.

  She wasn’t welcome near him and turning on her phone wouldn’t make a difference. Nothing she would do mattered now. If he wanted to find her, Greyson knew where she worked. Maybe time would get him to calm down, or piss him off even more.

  One could never tell. It was a crapshoot.

  Emma began stripping out of her clothes. All she wanted was a hot shower, some coffee, and to stop thinking about the man she missed.

  This love thing sucked.

  She couldn’t ever remember a break up hurting this damn bad. This was soul wrenching and heart destroying.

  Setting up the little coffee pot that was in the room, she turned it on and headed to the shower. Under the steaming hot spray, she tried to stop thinking about him.

  That was easier said than done.

  Finally, she broke. Emma slid down the wall and sat on the bottom of the tub with her forehead on her knees. As the water poured down her body, it occurred to her that she might never feel better again. Nothing warmed her ice cold body as the tears flooded down her cheeks.

  How could she live life without Greyson Croft?

  * * *

  When the door buzzed, he raced towards it. Greyson was praying it was Emma returning, and she’d only lost her keys. If she came back, he swore he’d trap her inside with him until they worked it out. Croft wouldn’t let her leave again, even if he had to handcuff her to his arm.

  He couldn’t risk it.

  Emma was meant to be at his side and this had been a horrible mistake, and he needed to apologize.

  Suddenly, the little white lie didn't mean anything. It was forgotten, and all that remained was the hope of finding his wife and making her take him back again. He’d been calling her repeatedly the last twenty minutes. His attention was split between alternating texts and frantic voice mails, begging her to come home to him.

  As he yanked open the door, his partner jumped.

  “Christ! What are you trying to do?” he asked as he sauntered past him.

  Damn it!

  It wasn’t Emma.

  “What’s wrong?” Curtis inquired, immediately sensing his distress. That was his ‘scared out of his mind’ face. He’d only ever seen it once before, and it was when they had been in Celestia. If he was wearing it now, that meant he screwed something up with Emma.

  Croft couldn’t even speak. He handed his partner the note, allowing him to see the mess that he had made.

  Briggs read it over and glanced over at his boss for clarification. “What exactly did you do?”

  Still unable to speak, he held out his hand. In his palm sat the wedding and engagement ring he’d specifically picked for Emma. It was green emeralds to match her eyes and one fiery diamond as the center stone to match her personality.

  “She left you?” he asked incredulously.

  “Yes.”

  That astounded Curtis. Emma was probably the hardest person to provoke. The only way to piss her off was to insult her husband. The woman loved him more than anything in the world. You could see it on her face. If Emma handed him her rings and walked away, it had to be for a monumental reason.

  His boss had to have crossed a major line.

  Croft simply nodded, going over to the couch and sitting there. He didn't know how to fix this or where to even begin with it.

  “Okay, tell me all the stupid shit you did to get you into this mess,” his partner said. He was pretty sure who instigated the situation. One of the two people who lived there was known for their temper, and it wasn’t the one with red hair.

  “We came home,” he finally spoke as he prayed the man could help him. “She wanted to talk about it. We fought. I went to take a shower and get away from her for a few minutes to calm down.”

  “Okay, that’s logical. I doubt she left because of that.”

  “I told her that I had never been angrier at anyone in my life,” he admitted. “Then, she asked if I was saying our marriage was over.”

  Briggs sat forward. This is where it had to have gone horribly wrong. “What did you say? Please tell me you didn't tell your wife you were divorcing her over a tiny little lie, especially one where she was doing the best thing for the situation.” In all honestly, Briggs would have lied too. He knew the outcome would have been a disaster otherwise.

  He shook his head. “I said nothing. I stared at her and walked away.”

  “Oh hell! Are you nuts?”

  Croft nodded. Apparently
, that could be added to the list of things he was calling himself. Heartless idiot was at the top of the list. “It gets worse.”

  “Oh man.”

  “I was taking my shower, and she knocked on the door.”

  “She wanted to fix it.” That sounded like Emma.

  He nodded, swallowing the knot in his throat. “I told her to go away.”

  And thus, the note now made sense. Briggs stared at him.

  “Say something,” Croft practically begged. He needed an objective opinion on what happened, and no one knew them both better than his partner.

  “I think you’re a moron.”

  That wasn’t what he needed to hear. He was well aware of his idiocy.

  “I don’t know where my wife is, and I need a little direction here. I don’t need you telling me I’m a caveman, idiot, old, asshole or anything else that pops into your mind. I’m aware of all of it.”

  Briggs laughed. “Okay, the solution is simple. Find Emma, apologize, and fix it.”

  He was getting frustrated at his partner’s words. “If I knew how, I would! I can’t think. I feel like half of me is missing. I need your help!”

  The man was obviously off his game or he’d have this under control. “If she were to leave, where would she go?”

  Greyson thought about it. “Emma would go to a hotel or possibly to her partner’s place. There’s nowhere else she could head.” Yeah, there were other places--bars, clubs, other locations where at that moment she could be with another man, trying to forget. In his head, he pictured his sexy wife at a bar sobbing while some lecherous asshole tried to offer her comfort and rebound sex. He swallowed those demons, praying it wasn’t too late, and that he didn't drive his wife into someone else’s arms. This was his big fear--that one day she’d come to her senses and leave him for a man far more worthy.

  Pulling out his cell, Briggs sent a text to the detective. They both sat there waiting for her to reply. When she did, telling them Emma wasn’t with her, they took it off their list.

  “Next is a hotel.”

  Croft sighed. “There’s only a million of them.”

  Briggs began laughing. “You’re a director in the FBI. You really can’t figure out how to use some of that technology to find your wife? This has you seriously jacked up in the head, dude.”

  He stared at him, fighting through the malaise and melancholy to begin thinking again. “If Emma went to a hotel, she’d use her credit card.”

  “Exactly the point, my friend, and if she did that then we can track her. If she checked in anywhere or bought something, we simply have to trace the credit card to find her. Is it a joint card?”

  “No. She’s stubborn. I wanted to share one, but Emma wants her own freedom.”

  “Go figure,” he muttered, understanding exactly why. Captain Control Freak was the main reason. “If it was shared, you could call the credit card company and ask if there were any hotel charges. Since the card only belongs to her, we do this the FBI way.”

  He pulled out his tablet and opened a program. Entering in the parameters, he started searching. Within minutes, it began beeping.

  “We have her.” He handed his boss the tablet as he grinned victoriously.

  “She checked in forty minutes ago.”

  Briggs scribbled the name on a piece of paper and handed it to his boss. “Go fix what you did.”

  He rushed towards the door.

  “Boss! Wait!”

  The man turned around. “What?”

  Briggs started laughing again. “You’re only in boxers. You might want to get some clothes on first.”

  Greyson raced towards his bedroom, throwing on jeans and a shirt. At the last minute, he grabbed a change of clothes. If he could get his wife to forgive him, they might as well stay there for the night.

  Storming out to where his partner waited, he didn't have the words to express what the man did for him. “Thank you, Curtis.”

  He grinned. “Go bring mom home.”

  It was the first laugh he’d had in hours, and he knew he would one way or another. “While we’re gone, there are no parties and no hookers in the condo.” Slamming the door, he raced off to find his wife.

  “Damn, there goes tonight’s plan.”

  * * *

  She paced back and forth across the hotel room, coffee in hand and files open on the bed. She wanted to focus on work, but she couldn’t. Emma was entirely focused on a very sexy, stubborn man who drove her insane.

  As she went to the window, the lights of the city dazzled her. It reminded her of her honeymoon. Her crazy husband did it all in reverse. They spent a week enjoying the sights, the sun, and sex, and then got married on the last day.

  Everything with him was always an adventure.

  The tears filled her eyes as her heart squeezed. If she had a choice, she wouldn’t have lied to him. All Emma wanted him to understand was she did it for both of them. If he attacked her co-worker, they’d never be able to work together again, or worse he’d be fired.

  They certainly couldn’t afford the condominium on her salary. Why was it so damn hard to just see it from her perspective? Yes, she knew he was wounded by a woman who lied and betrayed his heart, but the lie she handed him wasn’t to hurt him. It was to protect what they had.

  Emma shook her head and forced herself to stop thinking about him. Right now, death demanded her attention. It would be a welcome distraction, and maybe she’d get through the night.

  Fat chance on that one.

  Pouring more coffee, Emma sat in the center of the giant bed and stared down at the photos of the dead women. Now, it was time to end the pity party and get to work.

  Whether she wanted to believe it or not, some people were far worse off than her.

  At least Emma was alive…

  * * *

  Arriving at the hotel, he wasn’t sure if she’d let him into the room. Knowing that was a damn good possibility, he opted to go with the probability of her denying him access. That meant plan B had to be implemented right off the bat.

  Walking towards the counter, he waited for the concierge to look up at him.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, smiling politely at him.

  “Yes, I’m supposed to meet my wife here. We’re having a little secret rendezvous thing. I believe she checked in already.”

  The woman looked at him suspiciously. “What’s her name?”

  “It’s Emma Croft. She’s about this tall.” He held up his hand to his chin. “She’s a redhead, and she has all these cute adorable freckles.” God, he missed her.

  The woman knew who he was talking about. “Sir, we’re not supposed to give any information away. If she did check in, she would have had to tell me you were coming. I’m sorry, sir, but you should leave, before I call security.”

  There was one route left and he wasn’t above using it. He pulled out his badge and laid it on the counter as he lowered his voice. “You have a guest here that my partner and I are watching.” He waited as she took the badge and inspected it. Next, he lifted his jacket to see his gun. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but he’s a wanted criminal. I need to keep my identity secret, and I really need the help of this facility to get my job done safely. I don’t want to risk any civilians.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Oh my God. Okay! What can I do?”

  Croft was entertained and he smiled at her. “I need a key to my partner’s room, and I need assurance that you’ll keep this quiet. As far as anyone needs to know, I’m here to have a little dalliance with the woman in the room,” he said, taking his badge back and tucking it into his pocket.

  She hit a few keys. “You’ll be staying in room eight twelve, sir.” Handing him a room key, she winked at him. “Have a good stay.”

  Croft strolled away grinning. Sometimes, it was just too easy. Now came the most important part. He needed his wife to take him back, before they left in the morning. He wasn’t above dragging her out against her will. Carrying her out over
his shoulder was bound to draw attention.

  Riding up in the elevator, he turned off his phone. It was the first time he’d ever done it willingly. The last time it had been shut off, he was abducted by the serial killers in Celestia.

  In his pocket sat her rings, and in his heart, he hoped he could find the words to get her to forgive him.

  This fight went too far, and he never wanted it to happen again. Croft reassured himself that there wasn’t going to be a next time, not if he had anything to say about it.

  The elevator stopped and nerves took over. There was the possibility she’d never speak to him again, but it was a chance he’d risk. He wasn’t leaving here without her.

  One way or another, they were staying or going home.

  Together.

  When he wanted to move to Vegas for a job promotion, she followed willingly, and now he’d do the same. If she ran, he’d chase her to the ends of the earth until she was his again. Without her, he wasn’t whole so what would his life here matter if his Emma wasn’t beside him?

  As he slid the key in the door, Greyson said a little prayer. He promised that he’d let her talk and not take anything she said for granted.

  It was now or never.

  Emma was reading over her files as she heard the click. Someone was accessing her room. Beneath her pillow, her hand found the butt of her nine millimeter. Emma was ready as she stared at the doorway.

  When he came into view, she didn't have words. Releasing her gun, she brought her hand back to her lap.

  “Emma.”

  She stared at him. “How’d you find me, Greyson?”

  This didn't bode well. Her voice was controlled and angry. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he had hoped she would run across the room and jump into his arms.

  So much for that fantasy.

  He was going to have to work for this one.

  “I tracked your credit card here.”

 

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