Authors: Christa Wick
"You've got this." Tommy rubs my arm as I put the cell phone down on the table. "I know you do."
I nod, unable to offer him stronger assurances. He thinks I can tackle the world. But, really, what does he know? I am twenty-six fucking years old, uneducated, scrambling from one pay check to the next, lying to get jobs, always too busy reacting to the latest crisis to get a better handle on anything and the list of how incompetent I truly am just goes on and on. My opponent? Solandro is a hardened criminal -- worse than my father. He is a psychopath who has other psychopaths working for him.
Luke gently takes my arm and leads me back to the table. "You have two hours before you need to pick up the lenses, Marie. The two of you should finish your meal while I get things ready."
Seeing something guarded in his expression, I study Luke for a moment. He doesn't hide his expression, doesn't mask the tension lines lightly etching the sides of his mouth or eyes. His places his hand on my arm, the position so much like that first night in the casino when he busted me. Only this time he lightly strokes his thumb against my elbow, a silent request for me to trust him.
I nod and sit down, but I can't fight the feeling that everything is about to go sideways. I watch Tommy pick at his food. We are both too nervous to eat and give up. We spend the last few minutes with our arms wrapped around one another, our foreheads touching.
As Luke returns to lead me away, Tommy reassures me one last time. "You've got this, sis."
********************
Whether I have the situation under control or not, Luke Masters has no intention of letting me leave his casino.
"What do you mean I can't go?" We are back in that underground room, the one with the couch and television that Vincent deposited me in after I returned from Solandro's warehouse the first time. I stand in front of Luke, our bodies touching as I glare up at him.
"Marie, you don't know the monster you're dealing with." Both hands on my shoulders, he tries to walk me to the couch to sit me down and reason with me.
I shake free, plant my hands on my hips and continue glaring at him. "You or Solandro?"
"Solandro's boss." With his cheeks flushing an angry red, Luke closes his eyes. "The man is a sadist."
"So I should just leave Rose with him?" Too furious to contain myself, I reach out and push at Luke's chest. "Just when did you decide you weren't letting me go?"
"About the time you got the call."
Something that looks suspiciously like a lie flashes across his brown eyes. Before I can call him on it, he catches my hand and reels me closer.
He tries to stroke my hair. "I'll send a team into the meeting place. We'll get her out."
I shake my head, squirming to break free from his hard embrace. "She hasn't been at any of the meeting places. They find out they're burned and Rose is dead -- after they do..."
I falter. I can't bear to think what Solandro has planned for Rose if I fail or he discovers that I have betrayed him.
"You aren't leaving." He cups my face with both hands, his gaze intense and his mouth a firm line a whisper in length from mine. "I'll make Solandro tell me where he stashed Rose."
"No!" Twisting free, I reach for my cell phone. "You can't possibly know what will trigger her murder. It could be something as simple as a call from Solandro that never comes or uses the wrong password. I'm going!"
"You're not." Luke wrenches the phone away and shoves it into his jacket pocket. "Baby, if he figures out you burned him, he'll do those things to you."
Getting my elbow between our bodies, I try to leverage away from his chest as I continue arguing. "I'll risk it."
"I won't." Catching me by the hair, he knots his fingers in it then pushes me against the wall. "You left things out, Marie. Things you didn't want me to know about Rose. The shoplifting, the pregnancy that ended in the emergency room because she overdosed on oxycontin..."
I close my eyes, but I can't block the truth. Luke's staff was busy while he fucked me. In two days' time, they figured out Solandro's boss, whom I didn't know, and tracked down our identities in at least the last three cities in which we lived.
Rule number 8 -- There are no fathers and sons at the table.
No lovers or friends, either. I open my eyes and glare at Luke. "Girls like Rose die every day, is that it?"
My tears turn the question into an accusation.
He flinches but doesn't back down. "Yes, Marie. I won't risk your life for the chance to save hers. She may be in on it with Solandro -- you don't know."
"I know she's my sister." I had worked my hand into Luke's pocket while he argued with me. Pulling my phone out, I start dialing.
He takes the phone away. Looking down, he sees the first two of the three numbers I intended to call.
9-1-
"You're calling the police?" He scowls at me, sensing, but not quite understanding what I am up to.
I nod. "On myself."
He has been acting like he cares about me. If he does, it's my ace in the hole to save Rose. I play it. "I have a warrant, remember. And I'm ready to confess to cheating in the club--"
"Baby, that's not the deal we made."
He tries to rest his forehead against mine. I won't allow it. I shake my head. Fresh tears stream down my cheeks. "The deal was you would do everything in your power to help me save Rose. Rose -- not me."
"Love, please don't make me do this." His entire hand shaking, Luke places trembling fingertips against my cheek and presses a long, hard kiss against my mouth.
I am nearly done in. I want to stay here. I want to be held and cared for by this man. I want a fresh start, but there's no such thing. Closing my eyes, I memorize the kiss. When it is forever imprinted on my heart, I break free and look at him.
"I'm sorry -- I have to."
********************
A woman in her mid-sixties meets me at the Greyhound bus station with the contact lenses. Red-eyed and coughing, she looks every bit the junkie and I don't doubt for a second that one or more of Solandro's men are in the station to oversee the exchange. I duck into the bathroom, put the case from Solandro in my purse and retrieve a case Masters gave me.
Inside, two blue lenses float in a watery solution. Remembering the track marks on the old woman's arms, I soap my hands and rinse with hot water twice before I touch the lenses. Once they are in place, I leave the station and flag a cab discreetly waiting just for me. Climbing into the back seat, I hide my shock as I recognize the well-worn ball cap and denim jacket Luke wore for the last meeting.
I expected a familiar face, just not his.
For show, I tell him which casino and then I act like he doesn't exist. A manila envelope is on the seat and I open it. I drop Solandro's case inside and pull out a photograph. It is a headshot of a dealer from the Desert Crown Casino and Resort. I flatten the paper against my thighs and study his face.
From the call until this very second, Luke has worked to get the Desert Crown on board. The casino's owner, however, won't consent to my just walking in and using the lenses. Instead, he will have the dealer feed me wins, which Luke promises to cover. Everyone else at the table will be in on it and I must turn the lenses over to the FBI before I can play. They have eight hours to analyze them, then back I go to Solandro with a purse full of money.
Everything is moving too fast. In less than two days, I have moved from trusting only Tommy to being forced to trust many: Luke, his team at the casino, the FBI, the dealer at the Desert Crown and the casino's owner. That is more trust than I have and my heart is jackhammering inside my chest by the time Luke pulls to a stop in front of the Desert Crown. I pull a few bills from my purse for show and pass the money forward. Catching my hand, Luke's gaze holds mine in the rear view mirror.
"I'll have eyes on you the entire time."
Withdrawing my hand, I smile but my heart isn't in the gesture. I am too worried I will once again fail Rose.
Inside the casino, I spot the dealer after about ten minutes of wandering, but I walk around another ten, surreptitiously looking for anyone who might be working for Solandro. When I finally sit down, the hands start small -- at table minimum. Three hours later, I am pulling in thousand dollar wins.
Next to me, one of the players leaves. Like a real game, they rotate in and out, some set gesture signaling that another member of security is ready to slide into the seat as soon as it is vacated.
Not this time.
An outsider takes the seat next to me. Everyone at the table is a stranger to me, but I sense he is an outsider by the way the dealer tenses ever so slightly and how the man to my left coughs. Even though the wins and losses aren't real, the cough is his tell and he can't help himself. With no cards in play and catching the dealer's reaction, this is all I need to know the man on my right isn't part of the team.
Absolute certainty comes when he puts his hand on the table. He holds a locket, the chain wrapped around his fingers for good luck. I know the locket. It belonged to my mother and I gave it to Rose on her sixteenth birthday.
Sunglasses and a ball cap obscuring his face, the man tilts his head in my direction. "How about I buy you a drink at the bar?"
Luke briefed me on this scenario. I promised him I would stay in place.
I look at the man then back to the locket. "Sure, let me grab my chips."
The dealer reaches for my hand, his smile shaky. "You're not going to walk away when you're winning, are you?"
"Rule number 9 -- Lady Luck is a fickle bitch." Quoting my father, I laugh, the sound dull as I calculate whether the men at the table will let me leave. From the little I understand, these are the casino's men. The owner would not allow Luke's team on the casino floor. Luke is monitoring from somewhere else in the casino or outside it so I won't get burned by one of Solandro's men recognizing him as the owner of the last casino I used the lenses at.
With the new player already leaving the table, I follow him. No one protests. By the time we hit the casino's entrance, his hand is locked around my elbow. We walk out to the street and a passing car stops in front of us. Flinging the back door open, my escort pushes me inside. He jumps in, the doors locking immediately. As we speed away, Solandro's man takes off the sunglasses.
Artificially blue eyes stand out against the dark brown skin and I know I am as good as dead.
********************
Bloods drip from my chin to land on the silk skirt. Lifting my head, I glare at the woman who just backhanded me. She is blurry because the lenses I had in were forcibly removed before she entered the room. Blurry or not, I know the voice screaming hysterically at me.
"I can't believe you fucked me on this!"
More blood drips onto my skirt, the cut made by the small diamond ring she wears. The ring is new -- at least she did not have it when she disappeared a few weeks ago.
Another slap lands, this one open palmed. My hands are tied behind my back so I can't block her. Six years have passed since someone hit me, but my body remembers. I move with the blow, lessening the force as I brace for the next one.
Rose sits down, lights a cigarette then takes a quick drag. Exhaling, she examines the lit end then looks at my bloody cheek. "You've always been a fat, stupid traitor, b-b-big sister."
The stutter is the same fake one our father used in teasing me as a child. Knowing there is nothing I can say to appease my sister, I swallow my defense. I look down and the salt of my tears sting my eyes and the cut on my cheek.
"You betrayed Daddy -- too many times to count." Rose leans closer. "Then you conned me into leaving with you because you knew you couldn't make it on your own."
Yeah, like she's been a big help.
She takes another drag on the cigarette, this one long and hard so that the tip glows a bright orange. Pushing her palm against my forehead, Rose brings the tip close enough to my cheek that I can feel the heat.
"A fat, jealous loser as long as I can remember." She runs the burning tip in circles near my skin, never making contact. "A jealous bitch because Daddy loved me -- not you. Jealous that I'm not an oinky pig, that men want me...want my body."
Another drag and she touches the tip against a drop of my blood. The fluid hisses, absorbing the heat before Rose can burn me. She pulls it away, but the sadistic grin on her face promises another attempt. "Six fucking years I lived in nothing but shit holes because you lied."
"Troy almost killed Tommy--"
"Because Tommy couldn't get his shit together." She leans in, her spit flecking against my face as she screams. "He blew the biggest score Daddy ever lined up!"
"Troy blew it. He was drunk and--"
Another backhand from Rose opens a fresh cut in my cheek. I draw a slow breath in. I need time. Luke promised to have eyes on me and somewhere in my purse, my phone waits quietly, its software transmitting my GPS location.
Looking at Rose again, I feign admiration. "You set this up."
"Not exactly." She sneers, the expression as familiar as it is hated. "I figured Solandro could tell me where Daddy is."