“Just because I can’t see you right now doesn’t give you the right to break down my door,” he barked.
Security filtered through the broken staircase door. Two men grabbed hold of my arms, and a third guard confiscated my crowbar.
I couldn’t bring my eyes to Greyson’s. His eyes were blazing and fierce. My bottom lip trembled. Why couldn’t I tell him he was an idiot?
The guards dragged me toward the staircase.
“I want a damage report. Nadia is banned from the casino until I say otherwise.”
My eyes slid to Greyson. There was no doubt what I read from his searing glare; I was banned from his casino and his life. I was now an outcast; no longer able to return to the casino I spent all of my days and nights in, no longer able to see Greyson or Remy . . . maybe not even Mya. I choked as my heart slammed against my ribs. I’m sure it was heart failure as I watched him slam the door, catching a glimpse of Fiona’s Cheshire cat grin.
Chapter 16
A tear rolled down my cheek, followed by a hundred more. I was an idiot for thinking I could rescue Greyson from Fiona when he didn’t want to leave. He wanted her, not me. He wanted to work around the clock with Fiona at his side and not worry about the world around him . . . and his family who needed him.
Remy will have my head for this. He was searching for Mya, and I was breaking down doors and making an ass of myself. I’ll head home and stay out of their way. I needed a good cry and a long nap.
Security escorted me through the casino and out the door with a shove. “Don’t come back.”
I stared blankly ahead. “Don’t come back,” I repeated to myself.
A horn blasted a short beep. I jumped and refocused as a taxi pulled up.
“It didn’t work, did it?” the taxi driver called out.
“I made it up there and saw him,” I said, stepping toward the taxi.
“You made it to the penthouse?”
“It was the worst mistake of my life.” The agonizing instant replay that repeatedly ground its way through my mind made me want to bludgeon my brain with the crowbar to knock out the memory.
“I didn’t think you’d get that far without them throwing you out. I see they took the crowbar,” she said.
I peered down; I wasn’t carrying it. Everything happened so fast I forgot I was missing the crowbar. Security wouldn’t give it back to me even if I asked. But Remy could get it.
“I’ll get it back,” I said. “Remy is going to be so mad at me though. I’ll buy you a new one. It’ll be safer than having to explain to Remy.”
“You know Remy?”
“Yes, but after the stunt I just pulled, he’s not going to want anything to do with me.”
“Do you really think Remy could get the crowbar back?”
“I’m positive he can, but I don’t want to ask him.”
She grinned. “I’ll ask him. I’ve been waiting for a chance to talk to him. This will be the perfect opportunity.”
“You’ve got a thing for Remy, huh?”
She nodded with a smile. For the first time, I noticed she had beauty in her; she just kept it hidden under her piercings and tattoos.
“He’s a good guy,” I said.
“And he’s super hot.”
I wouldn’t consider him super hot—not that I go around assessing his hotness. But he was tall with wide shoulders and bulging muscles. His eyes were dark, and his skin was olive. His shaved head made me want to give him a noogie. His wide stance made me instantly picture military or law enforcement. He was no-nonsense and slow with a smile. But that’s just Remy; it made him who he was.
“He’s going to be angry today. You may want to come back tomorrow and ask him when he’s in a better mood.”
“That’s a good idea. Do you need a lift?”
“No. I have a moped. I’m calling it a day . . . a horribly nasty day.”
“Have a good one. Now I have a story and a chance to talk to Remy. My day is coming up roses,” she smiled and waved good-bye.
I turned to view the casino one last time . . . one final time. The instant-replay footage was on autopilot. It had rewound to the first time I met Greyson when I accidentally spilled a drink over his head. It fast-forwarded to us sitting close on the couch, drinking wine and watching surveillance tapes. And then it stopped on our first night together. I heated at the remembrance of his lips on mine, his hands, firm and soft, following my lines, always playing and teasing. Fast-forward again to his violent eyes that seared through me. My insides wilted and withered as his eyes burned into my memory. I will never forget those eyes.
Never.
I was outside of the casino, gazing through the window. I was barely aware of my surroundings. My eyes weren’t seeing. They were focused on the past, not what was happening in front of me. A reflection of a flash of blonde caught my attention and brought me back. Mya?
I whipped around to find Frankie. He wasn’t blond; he was feathery. Molting yellow feathers cascaded a bodysuit.
“Thank God I found you!” he squawked, waving at feathers clinging to his face. “She’s gone insane. I can’t stop her.”
“Frankie, what happened? Why didn’t you just call instead of coming here half hatched? What are you dressed up as, anyway?”
“I called you, but you didn’t answer. I knew you had to be here. She’s driving me mad! I can’t take it anymore!”
“Who?” I asked.
“Who do you think? The damn gorilla I sold my life to for a yacht. I’m going to burn my sailor outfit! I’ll never ever dream of owning a yacht again.” He blew at a feather tickling his nose.
“What did she do?”
“She used my tweezers to pluck out her nose hairs. She’s plugged my toilet so many times I have plunger blisters. And now she’s moving your stuff out because she said she’s moving in for good.”
That perked my attention. “Where’s Gus?”
“She probably ate him as a snack. Come on, you have to kick her out of the building.”
“It’s your building and your wife; you deal with it. And if she ate Gus, you and I are going to have a problem.”
“She’s taking over your apartment.”
“I wouldn’t want to come between newlyweds,” I said.
All I had to do was call the police. Muffin would be locked up, and I would have a fat reward in my pocket. Frankie needed to squirm a bit. Perhaps he’d start thinking through his schemes instead of running headfirst and dragging me with him.
“You’ve been dreaming about owning a yacht. You should stick it out for better or for worse.”
His feathers fluttered as he waved his arms around in wide, sweeping gestures. He resembled a half-plucked chicken trying to take flight. “I can’t take it anymore! Just help me. I’ll give you anything you want,” he begged.
Hmmm . . . anything?
“I want my car fixed immediately with the money you owe me. And I want you to take down the horrible website.”
“I’ll give you the money for your car today. But I can’t take down the website.”
“Why not?”
“It’s good business.”
“Frankie, the website is tacky.”
He bristled, making his feathers shake in an undignified fashion for a sparsely covered chicken. “It’s not tacky! I have never done anything tacky in my life . . . except for buying those brown snakeskin shoes with the pilgrim buckle. But other than that, I’m not tacky.” His molting arms crossed, defying me to challenge him.
“I’m just saying the website doesn’t represent me as a poker player.”
He considered it and nodded. “I’ll make your website suit you as a poker player.”
“Deal,” I said. “Let’s get out of here before I get banned again. I think barnyard animals are against casino health codes.”
“You’ve been banned from the casino? Even with Greyson as the CEO?”
My shoulders drooped. “Greyson was the one who banned me.”
“No shit? I didn’t like his casino anyway. Who needs an underwater archeological wonder when you have classy Bellagio just down the way? And you can never trust a man with money.”
I arched my eyebrow. I wasn’t acquainted with this Frankie, but in his way he was being supportive.
“What did you do?” he asked. “I know. You wouldn’t play naughty nurse with him, right? Or maybe he wanted you to be a spritely mermaid since he’s got the underwater theme. I’m telling you, men with money are kinky bastards. You can’t trust them.”
I snorted out an unexpected laugh. “It was nothing like that. I’ll tell you later.”
“Would this be considered something that represents you as a poker player? Getting banned from a casino for not having role-play sex with the CEO? You’ll need to give me the whole story so I can make an editorial statement.”
I groaned.
Frankie drove his car. I settled onto the moped and followed him to the chapel. I had to make a phone call to the police but couldn’t do it while driving.
As I pulled into the lot, a pounding sound thundered from my apartment window. Dust particles flew out of the open window and down to the parking lot. I parked and kicked the stand down. I hopped off and ran over to Frankie.
“What’s going on?”
“She’s showering white chunks all over Lucille. I just had her waxed. We get our waxes together. She doesn’t scream in pain like I do.”
“Too much information.” I dug into my pocket. “I need to call the police.”
“She’s destroying your apartment,” Frankie tisked. “I’m just glad it’s not my apartment. You’re going to have some serious cleaning to do.”
I glared at him as I checked my other pockets. “I have no idea where my phone is.”
“See, I did try to call you and you didn’t answer.”
“I wonder if I lost it while trying to bust open the door.”
“That would do it. I’ve lost phones before like that.”
I eyed him. I didn’t want to know any more about Frankie’s life than I already did. I zipped my lips.
“Let me borrow your phone.”
He extracted the phone from the feathery suit.
“What are you supposed to be?” I asked, eyeing his costume.
“I’m making a Cluckity Chicken costume.”
“No one from other states will know what the Cluckity Chicken is.”
“It doesn’t matter; they’re drunk anyway. I could tell them I was Big Bird and they wouldn’t have a clue.”
“Then why don’t you just make a Big Bird costume.”
“Because I want to sing the Cluckity Chicken jingle.” He flapped his arms as he sang the jingle.
“Cluckity, cluckity, cluckity,
I’m the tasty Cluckity Chicken.
Cluckity, cluckity, cluckity,
Your fingers you’ll be lickin’.”
I guess every celebrity impersonator needed a dream. I didn’t need to understand it. I just needed to accept it. I snatched the phone from his wing.
“Do you have the police department’s number in here?”
“Yes, it’s in my favorites.”
My eyes slid to him. “You’re kidding, right?” But no, the number was under his favorites.
“I never kid about a man in a uniform. They’re even star-rated on how hot the uniform makes them. See, the Navy is one spot above the cops. I just love those sailor suits. But cops have handcuffs, so it was a tough call to make.”
I rolled my eyes and pressed the “Hot Cop” favorite.
“Frankie, why don’t you go and stop Muffin while I make the call?”
He shook his head. “Nuh-uh!”
Crash!
An ax blasted through the top window, shattering glass as it fell down on top of Lucillie’s hood. Of course, if her aim had been five inches lower, the ax would have flown out of the open part of the window and my window would have been saved. But that’s Caleb’s type of luck, not mine . . . and apparently not Lucille’s.
Frankie squeaked as he ran over to his beloved Lucille. “My sweet girl, what has she done to you?”
Muffin peered out the window. “Oops! Sorry, my tasty chicken. You can take it out of the inheritance money. Oh, and bring the ax back upstairs; I’m not done renovating.”
Frankie whimpered.
“Hello, is anyone there?” My attention returned to the phone.
“Oh, sorry,” I said. The ax flying out of the window distracted me, and I didn’t even hear the police answering the phone. “I know where Bonnie Lane Gatlin is. I know she’s wanted and there’s a reward for her. She’s currently destroying my apartment.”
Frankie’s eyes widened and he sputtered, “She’s wanted?”
I nodded and whispered, “Con artist.”
I watched Frankie’s face twist as he processed how he could have been duped while I gave all the information to the woman on the phone.
“We’ll have someone dispatched right away,” she said.
I ended the call and handed Frankie back his phone.
“I don’t think she could be a con artist,” Frankie reasoned. “I’m too smart. No one can outsmart me.”
“She marries men with the promise of giving them an inheritance that doesn’t exist.”
“I, uh, well . . . I suspected right away. I was just playing along until the right moment when I could collect the reward.”
He was already scheming the reward from me before I held it in my hand.
“We’ll split the reward fifty-fifty, and you’ll fix my apartment,” I said.
He grumbled. “We fix the apartment and Lucille. Whatever is left we split fifty-fifty.”
It was somewhat fair. By the time we fixed everything, there wouldn’t be too much left to split. “What about insurance?”
Frankie kicked at the ground. “I may have missed a few payments.”
And there went the reward money; shattered like my window.
“Let’s go in and stop her before it costs more money to repair than the reward will cover,” I said, heading to the chapel door.
“I should wait here for the cops. They’ll need to know where to find Muffin.”
“Chicken!”
“Duh,” he waved at his outfit.
I glared at him and huffed my way inside. Giggling drifted through the hallway when I reached the top floor. Muffin doesn’t giggle.
The door was wide open, but I had to crawl over my furniture dumped in the hallway to get to it. As I reached the door I heard giggling again.
“Mya?”
Mya bounced to the door. “Nadia, I’m having so much fun. Muffin is teaching me how to renovate old-school style.”
“As in not hiring a professional contractor?”
She nodded with a smile. “I want to try it at home. There’s a wall I’ve never liked. Muffin says it relieves a lot of angry feelings.”
“Do you have angry feelings?” I asked as I crossed over my couch and into the living room. Gus was on the couch and didn’t even register me when I jumped over him.
A gaping hole in my kitchen wall greeted me. The wall divided the kitchen and living room, but now there was a hole about four feet in diameter with drywall bits hanging on by several coats of old paint.
“I normally don’t have angry feelings,” Mya said. “But sometimes, when I think about who made David disappear, I get very angry.”
“Where’s my ax?” Muffin asked as she tore a dry wall chunk off with her hand.
“Frankie has it. He’ll be upstairs in a minute.”
So many thoughts were swirling in my head. Mya was in my apartment and safe . . . for the most part. Cops were coming to arrest Muffin. I needed to make phone calls and clean Muffin’s hole of destruction. All my stuff was in the hallway. Gus was at least safe and too lazy to move off the couch.
“Mya, why didn’t you go to the casino like we agreed?”
“I called your cell phone, but you didn’t answer. So I called Fra
nkie. He said you’d probably be home soon. Then I came here and stayed to help Muffin. I got distracted. I was going to head to the casino as soon as we were finished.”
“We’ve been going crazy looking for you. I’m banned from the casino because I forced my way in to see Greyson.”
“He banned you from the casino?” she asked with round eyes.
“Yes, but it will all get sorted out eventually,” I said, not believing the words coming out of my mouth.
I was never setting foot into that casino again and embarrassing myself. Besides, a poker player should make their playing field rounder and more diverse. I’ll play at different casinos, and none of them were going to be under the Rotunda Casino Empire.
“Mya, can you call Remy and tell him you’re okay and at my place? You’ll need to call security so they can transfer you through to Remy.” At least Fiona wasn’t able to stop us from using that roundabout method.
Remy could stop his useless chase to find Mya. I’m sure he’ll still want to find Catarina. With her need for money and her escape from Dagor, something wasn’t on the up and up.
I let Mya talk to Remy while I stared blankly at my disintegrated wall.
“What are you trying to accomplish by tearing out the wall?” I asked Muffin.
As I inspected the destruction, I concluded I wasn’t mad. I wasn’t even mad that all my possessions were dumped into the hallway. With so much going on, and my banishment from Greyson’s life, a hole in the wall wasn’t too bad. It rather complemented my crumbling life.
“I’m knocking out the wall and extending the kitchen. It’ll make the apartment open and larger. The kitchen is way too small and you can’t see the TV.”
“You know how to renovate?”
“No, I know how to destroy. Frankie will have to hire a contractor to finish it with the inheritance money.”
I nodded. There was no reason for me to argue with her about the inheritance scam. The cops were hopefully on their way, and I’ll have my hole-in-the-wall apartment back.
“Let’s buy some chicken,” Muffin said. “I worked up an appetite. My tasty half-plucked chicken has got me wanting to chomp on a drumstick.”
High Stakes Page 17
