by Leanne Brice
And even if Axel is just getting his revenge, I get the feeling he won’t sell me out and will let me disappear into the night, satisfied with what he got in the end.
Two birds, one stone.
I imagine him fucking her right now, Taylor moaning in pleasure as she takes the last thing that means anything to me.
In tears, I rush out of the casino and into the cold night air, hoping it shocks me back into calm sense, but it doesn’t.
I don’t even know where I’m going; I’m not thinking at all—just feeling and walking, trying not to let my emotions overwhelm me and failing; I need to think straight, damn it!
I suddenly realize I’m outside of the Bellagio, just in time for a water show to start and when it does, it breaks the last block in me.
Andrea Bocelli and Sara Brightman sing their hearts out, and this time, the fountains aren’t joyously celebrating with me; this time, they are crying for me.
At least someone is.
I can’t walk any further, but not because of any physical exhaustion; it’s the emotional toll of the past few days, especially the past few minutes watching Axel take off with Taylor.
I settle in near the fountain and let myself cry, letting it all out while I take comfort in being near the one familiar thing—my Lorax of Vegas. These gorgeous frickin’ fountains. This beautiful, sorrowful song.
I know it’ll actually help to cry this time since the last time, I felt better and sharper afterward, so I don’t try to stop the tears; I just let it all flow.
This time, once all the pain has been evacuated through my tear drops, I’ll be refreshed and ready to plan. Logical. Calculating. Prepared to figure out the next step.
It just sucks that right now I feel so utterly alone.
I’ll head back to L.A. tomorrow for sure—it’s not like Taylor knew where I lived and can lead others there. We always met up outside of whatever residence we had going on at the time.
At least I had the sense to fucking do that.
Chapter 17
Axel
Nate’s waiting in the hotel room when I open the door.
His shirt is open a bit, giving a peek of his muscled torso—enough to give off the wrong impression.
"So it’s that kind of party, is it?" Taylor says delightedly, her eyes assessing Nate appreciatively, but something tells me she doesn’t believe it; she knows something’s wrong.
I happened to catch a flash of something go over her eyes before she produced her false smile, and not just because of the surprise of seeing a stranger in the room you plan to spend some time in with your mark.
I bet right now, she’s calculating how to slip out of this setup.
Pete comes out of one of the bathrooms half naked, and her eyes light up genuinely.
Figures.
I almost roll my eyes.
But her look changes once the guys start blocks doors and I lock the exit behind us.
"What the hell is this?" she finally asks.
"Are you saying you’re not interested?" I ask. "Three young studs, two of them half-naked and we all want one thing."
She’s trying to look calm and in control but her heaving chest gives her away.
"My goddamned watch," I say, cutting to the chase. “Where is it?”
"I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about," she says quickly.
"Oh no? You see, our mutual friend, April, told me differently."
Disgust transforms her face a bit, her top lip rising slightly.
"Don’t trust that bitch ..."
“Watch your mouth, ‘Taylor’,” I say with air quotes. "Listen, you can make this easy or hard. It’s totally up to you. Tell me where to find my watch, we let you go. Otherwise, we hold you here until you do."
"You can’t do that to me!"
Both guys laugh in such a creepy way, it convinces her to drop the tough chick act because it’s very clear that we can.
Especially since Scott has joined us with ropes casually draped around one of his shoulders.
We have no plans to use the bloody thing, but image is everything.
I didn’t think we’d have to pull out all the stops, hoping she’d cave sooner than later, but four huge guys surrounding her seems to be the tipping point.
I believe her mouth even drops open a bit in shock as she notices Scott.
As soon as she gets a load of him, she vomits the name of some pawn shop, breathing rapidly while looking away, as if she’s trying to hide her face, but why?
“Now will you let me go?” she asks pitifully, her eyes pleading with me in a way that makes me almost believe she’s panicking for real.
What the heck?
I mean it’s a scary situation as a girl, and she doesn’t know we wouldn’t hurt her in any way, but she’s not just any girl in any case. I know she’s tough in a number of ways.
I get the sense something else is bothering her, and I’m kind of curious what’s got her spooked.
But I don’t bother to ask; we need to just finish this.
We’ve already alerted the authorities and I have some local friends waiting outside to take her in, so I easily answer, "Yes. We’ll let you go. But first, we must confirm the location of the watch. You don’t mind hanging out with us while we do that, do you?" I say as I pull out my cell and start dialing.
We make her sit at the desk to wait while my guy checks out the information.
Nate and Pete stay near her in case she tries anything stupid while I hang out near the door, pacing as I wait for an update, my eyes glancing between her, Nate & Pete, and Scott.
Scott has long dropped the ropes, and he’s staring at Taylor with the strangest expression, like he’s trying to figure something out.
She keeps avoiding his eyes, twisted away from him.
Once my guy gets back to me with word that the watch has been located, the guys move away from her, and we all give her enough space to give her a clear path to the door.
Instead of sprinting for it, she fronts like she’s not afraid and walks with measured steps to the door before disappearing behind it.
As far as I could tell, she held her breath the whole time, and I can practically see her sprinting down the hall in my mind’s eye.
Once she’s gone, the guys and I look at each other and burst into laughter—all except Scott who is staring at the door as if he can still see her.
“Rachel?” I think I hear him whisper, the look in his eyes far away.
Then he turns to me.
“I think I know that girl,” he says, and his expression and the tone of his voice kills all laughter. “Where are they waiting for her?” he demands.
I fill him in and he takes off, leaving a vacuum.
Nate, Pete and I just look at each other with confused expressions, wondering what the hell that’s about, but we’ll, no doubt, find out soon enough.
I look forward to recounting this whole thing to April.
A sick sense of déjà vu hits me as I open the suite door and realize April is nowhere in sight.
It’s a large suite, and she could be anywhere, but my gut tells me it’s empty, just like the first time around. She’s not out on the balcony, she’s not taking in a hot tub.
I call to her anyway, knowing she’s not there but still hoping she is, like before.
Worry starts to seize me, except this time, more is at stake than a goddamned watch.
Maybe she’s still shopping, I tell myself, knowing there’s no way that’s the case.
A girl like April is efficient. Practical. Quick.
She gets in and gets out.
A girl like April probably won’t give herself time to browse forever, knowing how precious time is.
A girl like April is, no doubt, gone.
I try not to panic, thinking about everything she told me—anything that could clue me in to where she would go.
I know her mom’s here, but she’s probably not heading back there.
I know she use
d to live in L.A., but with no car, she’s probably not headed back there right now.
I don’t think she’ll waste money on a flight; she’ll probably take a bus—most likely first thing in the morning.
She’ll hide out somewhere tonight.
Since I don’t know when she took off, I don’t know how far she could have gone—especially if she took a taxi.
I decide to hop in one myself and drive down the strip; I can’t just stand around and do nothing while I try to figure out what to do.
The drive will probably help me think.
I know it’s fairly useless to search for her at this point—like Taylor, she could look like anyone by now—black hair instead of blond, brown eyes instead of those gorgeous gray depths I love gazing into.
Focus, Axel—you could miss her.
The fountains in front of the Bellagio catch my eye and my eyes rove the area, stopping on a small, curled up form.
I can’t see the face, but that petite form, head over her knees—I just know it’s her.
"Stop the cab," I say, shoving cash at the driver and hopping out.
It’s a lot of money, so I’m not sure why he’s cussing me; I’m not even sure the cab had stopped before I hopped out, actually.
I make a beeline for the girl with the dark hair in the weird dress, hoping like hell she isn’t a mirage in the desert.
"April?"
She looks up, and her tear-stained face all but kills me.
She tries to run, but she’s no match for my long stride, my determination.
I grab her and pull her into my arms, holding her tight.
I caress her head soothingly as she sobs a little, the palm of my hand hating her wig.
"What the hell are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be waiting for me!"
"I thought ..." She pulls away to look up at me, and it looks like she can’t find the right words. "You and Taylor… you looked so cozy. And you have every reason to hate me, so I was pretty sure… "
"We went over that whole thing and planned it, remember? It was all an act!"
She is shaking her head and trying to pull away more but I won’t let her.
"You can’t be that good; most people aren’t. You were really going to fuck her. And I wouldn’t blame you.”
"You’re saying I’m a natural?” I say with a slight smile, trying to ignore how hard my heart is pounding. I almost lost her! “I appreciate the compliment, babe, but I definitely wasn’t going to fuck her. She disgusts me.”
She sobs against my stomach some more.
She’s still so unsure and hurt, and there’s gotta be a way to fix this.
Somehow, I have to let her know she’s safe with me. I have to let her know she can trust me.
I tilt her chin up.
"Obviously, it wasn’t all an act," I say meaningfully, then I bring my lips to hers.
She kisses me half-heartedly, like she wants to do it desperately while also wanting to pull away just as desperately.
I release her lips reluctantly.
"April, listen to me—I don’t know how you did it, but you made me fall in love with you. I can’t see my life without you in it now, and I’m hoping like hell you don’t try to run away ever again. I love you, April, and I want you to stay with me for good. Let me take care of you. Let me make sure you don’t have to worry about food, shelter, or any of those stupid basics again. Let me make sure you’re never alone."
She looks hopeful, and her watery eyes are staring into mine.
I can see she really wants to believe me, but she’s not quite there.
"You really want to stay with me?" she says, sounding like a little girl and twisting my heart even more.
This girl will be the end of me, I know it.
She shorts my brain, and maybe this is why I can’t help but say, "Yes. And if you need some kind of proof, let’s make this thing official.”
Her eyes widen a bit.
"Wait, what are you saying?” she asks, her voice wary.
"I’m probably insane, considering how we got here. I mean, you conned me. Expertly.”
"Thank you,” she says, and I can’t decide if she’s genuinely or jokingly accepting the compliment.
“I mean, I can have a different girl every night if I want… "
“Um, congrats?"
“… but yet I don’t want any other woman, April. I want you. Forever.”
My heartbeats are rapid-fire, and I’m suddenly nervous as I hold her hands.
“We’re in Vegas,” I continue. “Let me prove to you what I’m saying is real. Let’s do that other thing people come to Vegas to do.”
I drop to my knee and her eyes are like saucers now.
I kind of wish a strong gust of wind would blow her wig off—I want to look up at the real her, all of her. But her hair is the least of my concerns at this moment.
"April, will you marry me? I didn’t exactly plan this, so I’m short a ring right now, but I promise you I’m good for it... "
She laughs freely, her head thrown back, then she bends to kiss me.
When she pulls away, she nods happily, pulling off that damned wig with the other hand.
“Yes, I will marry you, Axel Addison,” she says, and my heart liquefies.
I only realize we had picked up a small crowd when it suddenly erupts into applause, but I’m only barely aware of them.
April fills my vision.
April fills my everything.
I rise to my feet, picking her up on the way so that she’s swept off her feet while being bear-hugged by stupidly happy me.
Then it suddenly hits me.
"Wait, how did you know my full name?"
She looks sheepish as she produces my driver’s license.
Of course.
I’m not sure when she swiped it, since I didn’t leave my wallet in the room.
"I just wanted something to remember you by," she says, red-faced.
All I can do is laugh.
"Christ, you’re incorrigible. Guess you’ll have to settle for the real mug now," I say, pointing to my face. Then I turn to the crowd. “Anyone know where the nearest chapel is?” I ask.
A few shout out some answers.
It’s a tangled mess, so I do a quick search on my phone, then pick her up in my arms to walk her all the way there.
"If this doesn’t help you stay put... " I say as we complete the paperwork.
I’m ecstatic my friends—old and new—showed up, plus some randoms we don’t know.
Well, Nate and Pete did—apparently, Scott’s still busy with Taylor aka Rachel, but that’s okay—April and I might throw a bigger party later with suits and dresses and everything. This was kind of short notice.
I look over at my bride, gorgeous in her hoodie and jeans, her blond hair down, her eyes sparkling.
But most of all, still here—right where I can reach out and touch her, kiss her.
I’m ecstatic April has decided to trust me with her protection, her love.
I’m overjoyed that she agreed to be with me. To stay with me. To belong to me.
April Addison.
Once we’re done, I sweep her up to carry her out, Nate and Pete following.
I try not to laugh when I hear a female voice behind me say, “Excuse me, but are you Lance Gross?”
What I don’t do is turn around to see Pete’s reaction; my eyes are stuck on April.
With April at my side, I am, without a doubt, the luckiest guy in the world.
They say the house always wins, but I definitely won this round.
Epilogue
April
Sometimes, I still think it’s all a dream.
That the Vegas trip I took for my birthday resulted in me partaking in some superior mushrooms.
As a result, I produced this illusion where I basically clobbered a billionaire over the head and made him love me.
Of course, this wackadoodle hallucinated vision didn’t start out that way—in the
ugly first part of the lucid dream, my best friend betrayed me, and my mom rejected me once again, but I eventually realized I’d be just fine without both of them and got the best revenge of all—I carried on, picking up someone who decided they wanted to look after me, whether I needed it or not.
And that’s where things really got weird.
Between dancing fountains and heartbreaking operatic tunes, green-eyed women coming onto me and men handing me stacks of cash for no real reason, I’m Alice down that rabbit hole, meeting talking animals and homicidal queens, and soon, a pack of cards will attack me and I’ll eventually wake up.
I had a nap once that felt like hours, but when I awoke, realized it had only been a few minutes.
That’s what this feels like—like I’m living a huge chunk of a lifetime in one of the best power naps ever.
I don’t mind not waking up.
Axel comes behind me and kisses my neck, his hand affectionately on my protruding stomach.
"You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me," he says, and my heart melts yet again.
Every now and then he slides in something like that, catching me off guard, and though his words essentially say the same thing, each time, it’s like he’s saying wedding vows again.
He still sounds so genuine, so awed when he says sweet nothings to me.
He tells me he loves me every day, like he knows I need to hear it.
Axel and I pretty much immediately started our honeymoon after our quickie marriage—after we sorted out my true documents—and it kind of still feels like we’re on a honeymoon, even though we’re now all settled in a huge mansion in La Jolla.
I felt kind of bad about not returning to L.A. and seeing Lorax again, and when I jokingly told Axel about missing the rat, the next day, I suddenly had two pet guineas.
It’s not the same, of course, but I suppose guinea pigs are better pet materials than alley rats.
I called them Thing 1 and Thing 2.
I had to give them away once I found out I was pregnant, though—too risky to have around at such a time.
Axel happily replaced them with goldfish at my request.
