Play Along

by T L Swan

  Stace gets his passport stamped and then goes through the walk through scanner machine. I stuff my hands in my pockets to hide how much they are shaking.

  Please wave him through. Please, please, please.

  The guard calls him over to the side and my heart starts to hammer.

  Shit.

  Stace stands with his arms lifted as they run the scanner up and down his body, and then he turns and they go down the back of him. He must be so nervous because I am nearly beside myself here. A little girl in the line in front of us suddenly projectile vomits and chaos erupts. The guard looks over and with a roll of his eyes, he waves Stace through the gates. The next man is ushered through quickly as the staff scramble to get a mop and bucket, and then it is my turn.

  The woman ushers me over and I walk through the scanner unnoticed. In a fleeting moment, I glance up to see Stace picking up his bag. His eyes meet mine before he looks away. Right, I need to get to the bathroom and quick.

  I walk to the bathroom as I see Stace drop into a seat at the back of the lounge area. He is going to sit and check that nobody is here to find us, and from that position, he will be able to see everything around us once the crowd dies down. I walk into the bathroom stall and drop the lid, nearly falling onto it with relief. I’m sweating profusely. This is no good for my heart. I send him a text.

  Are you okay?

  An answer bounces back.

  Yeah, babe, you?

  I puff air into my cheeks as I type.

  Can you see anyone?

  He answers.

  The coast seems clear. Wait for a ten minutes and then walk straight out and get into a cab to the Venetian.

  I will be right behind you in another cab.

  I smile because maybe we can get away unnoticed. I text back.

  If something happens…

  Don’t come after me

  I take out my hairbrush and re-comb this stupid, itchy wig as my heart bangs heavily in my chest. God, I hate this shit. He answers.

  I will see you at the hotel in the foyer. We can have a hot bath and order room service tonight.

  I smile broadly. He always knows exactly what to say. I reply.

  Bring it on.

  xoxoxo

  “It’s just up here.” Stace smiles proudly.

  After a good night’s sleep in the beautiful Venetian hotel in Vegas, we are on our way to the passport guy in a car we have hired. Things seem to be going to plan and last night was uneventful. We checked into a room and had a big deep bath together and got that beautiful room service dinner he promised me. For a short time, we were in Heaven. Hopefully, this time tomorrow we will be on our way out of here. I don’t know if Stace slept all night. It seemed that every time I woke up, and that was a lot, he was awake, staring at the ceiling deep in thought.

  We pull into a printing shop parking lot. “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “This is it.”

  I frown. “This is a printing shop.”

  “Oh, because being a fake passport dealer is such a reputable business.”

  “R-right,” I stammer. “I suppose so.”

  I follow him in through the front doors and the receptionist smiles. “I’m here to see Vernon,” Stace announces.

  “He’s in the back office.”

  Stace nods and grabs my hand as we walk through a dingy hallway until we get to a closed door.

  “This is sketchy,” I whisper.

  “You think,” he whispers back as he knocks three times.

  “Come in,” the voice calls.

  Stace opens the door and we are greeted by the sight of a huge, overweight man sitting behind a large, black desk. His hair is long and in a ponytail, and he has a whole biker gone wrong vibe going on.

  He sits back and shakes his head as he smiles smugly. “Well, well, well… if it isn’t the dead man walking? I was wondering when you would show up.”

  Stace glares at him. “I need two passports.”

  “Not a chance in Hell, man.”

  Stace glares at him.

  “Vikinos himself came to visit me and said if I made you and her…” His eyes flick to me. “A passport, I’m dead, too.”

  “Nobody will know.” Stace growls.

  “I need to be alive for my kids,” he fires back. “Death isn’t on my to do list this week.”

  “When was he here?”

  “A couple of days ago. He has a lot of men with him.”

  Stace glares at him as he processes his words.

  My eyes flicker nervously between the two men. Please let this work out.

  Stace leans over him on the desk. “Maybe you didn’t understand me.”

  Vernon’s eyes narrow.

  “I said… I want two fucking passports and you are going to make them for me. Now!” Stace sneers.

  “The answer is no.” His eyes hold Stace’s for an extended time, and eventually he fakes a smile. “I estimate you have about six hours to live.”

  Stace dives over the desk and grabs Vernon around the throat. “Make the fucking passports or I will kill you myself.”

  My eyes widen in horror. God, he’s losing his shit.

  Vernon chokes and coughs. “Let me go. Let me go,” he cries.

  Stace holds him, one hand around the throat and squeezes. “I want the fucking passports.”

  “I can’t.” He coughs.

  Stace bangs his head down on the desk. “Don’t make me fucking kill you.” He growls.

  My hands fly to my head in a panic. This is getting out of control.

  22

  “There… there is someone else,” he stammers through his fear.

  “Where?” Stace replies.

  “He calls himself Wesley Snipes.”

  I roll my eyes. “Now I have heard it all,” I mutter under my breath.

  Stace slams his head again into the table. “Where?”

  “You’ll find him in the high rollers room at the casino. You can’t miss him. He has bright red hair and dresses like Usher.”

  “Do you think this is a joke?” I snap. “I’m not risking my life by going to the high rollers room in the casino and looking for Wesley Snipes dressed as Usher. Let’s go,” I order nervously as I watch Stace hold this guy in a death grip. He’s going to kill him if I don’t get him out of here. “Stace! Let’s go,” I urge again. We have got enough shit to deal with already without him going nuclear on me.

  “How long does he take?” Stace snaps.

  “Same day.”

  Stace thinks for a moment as he holds him in his grip.

  “If I could help you, you know I would,” Vernon adds. “You have already put me in shit just for being here. I’m supposed to ring him the moment you arrive.”

  “Give us twenty -four hours before you do.” Stace growls. “Or I will be back to finish you off.”

  Vernon nods once.

  We turn and Stace grabs my hand. We walk as fast as we can up the corridor, through the office, and out into the sunlight of the parking lot. We both look around nervously as Stace unlocks the car and we dive in. He starts the car with a roar and throws his phone at me. “Google gun shops.”

  With my heart hammering, I quickly Google Gun shops in Vegas. I wait for the page to load. “There’s one called A-ammo,” I stammer.

  “Where is it? Hit maps,” he instructs me.

  I hit maps and wait for the little red dot to load. “It’s just up here,” I cry excitedly. I turn and look behind us. Are we being followed? “Second on the left, after this street.”

  Stace races toward the shop, and with a couple of turns and with renewed purpose, he parks the car in the street.

  “You stay here.”

  I look around nervously. The street seems industrial and deserted. I can’t see a soul. “I’m not staying out here on my own. I’m a sitting duck.”

  He watches me for a moment and then his eyes flicker around. “Okay, come on, let’s go.”

  We get out of the car and casually wal
k into the shop and straight up to the counter.

  “I would like to look at your hand guns, please,” he asks the man behind the counter.

  He nods emotionless and retrieves a gun from the glass cabinet and hands it to Stace. He pulls it back and inspects it, and then hands it to me. I look at it and turn it over.

  I nod. “Feels good.”

  “We will take two with ammunition.”

  The guy nods and still while showing no emotion retrieves two boxed up guns. “That will be $389.00, thanks.”

  Stace hands him the cash, and before I know it we are on our way.

  The drive back to the Venetian is made in complete silence. We’re both lost in our own thoughts, our own dread of what’s to come. I hold the loaded gun in my hand on my lap in case the unimaginable happens. Funny how the unimaginable has turned into the most probable.

  They will come for us eventually, and with no passport, I have no idea how we are going to get out of this.

  “What are we going to do?” I eventually ask.

  Stace keeps driving and doesn’t answer.

  “Did you hear me?” I repeat.

  “Yeah, I heard you.” He thinks for a moment. “We can’t go anywhere undetected without passports. We need to be able to get around between countries or we can’t sell the diamonds.”

  “I don’t care about the money.” I frown.

  “I know, neither do I, but it will make it a lot easier to disappear forever.”

  I turn back and stare out the front windscreen. “We shouldn’t even need to be thinking of this, Stace.” My eyes fill with tears. “We are good people. Why have we had to deal with such shit in our lives?”

  He grabs my hand and brings it up to his lips. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s going to be alright.”

  “H-how?” I stammer. “How is it going to be alright?” The tears are now running down my face. “You heard Vernon. He is threatening peoples lives if they help us. How the hell are we going to get out of here? We can’t catch planes. We have millions of dollars in diamonds in another country that we can’t get to.” I shake my head in disbelief at the situation we are in. “We will run out of money sooner or later. What then?” I ask. “What the hell are we going to do?” I cry.

  He thinks for a moment with my hand still in his. “We have two choices.”

  I watch him as he drives. “Which are?” I ask.

  “We stay and try to get passports to disappear forever.” His eyes flick to me. “Or we run.”

  I stare out the car front window as raindrops start to fall. “If we run.” I pause at just how final this feels. “We will always be running.”

  “Yes,” he answers honestly. “That’s why we stay and sort this once and for all. I’m not spending our lives on the run. Fuck that.”

  Nerves flutter around in my stomach at how angry he is. What’s he going to do if the next guy won’t give us passports?

  We drive for ten minutes in silence.

  His eyes glance between the road and me. “Prepare yourself. This could get ugly.”

  His eyes meet mine and I know he is trying to give me an option to run.

  “Stace, I want a life with you. A normal fucking life, not hiding and running, and being unable to hold a job or have children out of fear.”

  His eyes watch me as he processes my words.

  “We find fucking Wesley Snipes and we get the damn passports and get your mom and we get the hell out of America.”

  He nods as he grips the steering wheel, his eyes staying on the road. “I’ve done something.”

  What’s he talking about now? “Like what?” I frown.

  “I don’t know if it will happen and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

  “But?” I snap.

  “I ordered a hit on Vikinos.”

  My mouth drops open and I screw up my face. “How?”

  “My friend works for the United States Government. I offered thirty million, fifteen million each to two snipers, if they could kill him.”

  I watch him with my face filled with horror. What?

  “They get at least half of the diamond money if they kill him,” he adds.

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “I don’t care about the money,” I whisper.

  “I know you don’t, and that’s why I did it.”

  I put my head into my hands as the rain starts to really come down. “Do you think they are going to pull it off?” I ask hopefully.

  “Nobody had accepted the job last time I checked.”

  “Fuck,” I whisper.

  He shrugs. “By the time someone accepts it, it may be too late.”

  I close my eyes and my mother’s death runs rampant through my mind. “Stace, promise me if they catch up with us that you won’t try and be the hero. I need you to run and not look back. It’s me that they want.”

  “And you are a part of me. You’re the part I can’t live without.”

  Tears fill my eyes and he kisses my hand again. “We will go back to the hotel and tonight we hit the high rollers room and get those passports.”

  I nod as the rain comes down around us, bringing with it a sense of doom.

  The end is coming and I know that soon, I will either kill my father… or I’ll be killed.

  Either is a nightmare.

  God, help me.

  Stace lifts his chin triumphantly as we travel in the elevator up to the high roller room in the casino. We are both dressed to the nines and I have my boobs out to sweeten the deal. The stupid blonde wig is back on. I may as well look the part, I suppose. This is the one place it does suit the surroundings.

  “You look beautiful.” Stace smiles as he leans in and kisses me gently on the lips.

  I smile stupidly up at him as an idea comes to mind. “If we get passports tonight.” I kiss him again. “Can we get married tonight by Elvis in the chapel?” I widen my eyes in excitement.

  He frowns down at me and wraps his arms around my waist. “You want to marry me in an Elvis chapel in Vegas?”

  I shrug. “Well.” I laugh, it does sound ridiculous when he says it out loud. “Yes, kind of.” I kiss him again. “We haven’t done anything traditional so far. It seems like a shame to start now?”

  His hands drop to my behind and he squeezes me hard. “No.”

  I frown. “No?”

  “No. I am not getting married in a seedy Vegas chapel by fucking Elvis.”

  My shoulders slump in disappointment.

  “We will get married in a traditional wedding. Somewhere that is…” He pauses as he thinks of the appropriate wording. “Nice. I hate fucking Vegas and you deserve better than a shotgun wedding.”

  I smile softly.

  He kisses me and as the heat from his lips permeates through my body, I feel myself hover above the floor.

  I deserve better. He’s right, I do. I forget that myself sometimes. I’m so in love with this man.

  I love the way he makes me feel and I’m totally addicted to the buzz I get from his touch. Our relationship is unconventional, but somehow this is the most normal I have ever felt in my life. It’s weird how it’s turned out, but for as long as I can remember, all I wanted was a normal, happy life with my soul mate, and it turns out that I just needed unconventional and to be kidnapped to find him. Who knew it was this simple?

  The elevator doors open, and we are greeted by a security guard as he steps in our path, effectively blocking our way.

  “Minimum ten thousand dollar bets on this floor,” he announces coldly.

  “Yes, of course.” Stace smiles casually as if it’s lunch money. Shit, ten thousand dollars. That’s exuberant. I better get this right or we could drop fifty grand in five minutes. I will be doing the gambling tonight while Stace tries to find Wesley Snipes. I still can’t believe this guy actually calls himself that. It’s kind of ridiculous, if you ask me.

  I glance around at the glamorous people buried deep in their own world, hardly looking up from the tab
les. This is hard-core. I’ve never seen anything like it, from their clothes, to their shoes, to the young gorgeous women with old sleazy men. Everyone smells of money and security guards line the wall. Waiters are walking around with trays of food and drinks. It all seems to be on the house up here. This is like another world.

  Stace smiles and takes my hand and we casually stroll around and look at all of the tables. There is Poker, Roulette, various card dealers at tables playing a wide assortment of games. The air is thick with smoke and clearly the universal occupational health and safety guidelines don’t apply to high rollers. Large lounges sat in pairs line the perimeter, and the whole back wall is a giant fish tank complete with huge sharks and tropical fish. It’s like a James Bond movie. I smirk to myself. Wow, isn’t this something? People are laying chips everywhere like candy—chips that are at least ten thousand dollars each. The room has an entitled feel to it. Everyone in here clearly thinks they are a somebody.

  Maybe they are?

  Stace walks over to the cashier booth “I would like fifty thousand dollars worth of chips, please.”

  She smiles and slides five chips across the table.

  I look at the five puny chips on the table. Is that it? Holy shit, that is it. Fifty thousand dollars in five freaking chips. You have got to be kidding me? Stace smiles and takes his five chips and passes them to me. “Where do you want to play, darling?” he asks.

  I look at him blankly. I have never even been to the casino before, why on Earth is he trusting me to do the gambling?

  “Umm.” I look around at all of the tables as I try to locate something that I have at least seen before. Shit, how do I act like this is normal for us? Cards with important looking men playing, what looks like, a large hopscotch kind of thing, and people are throwing dice and seeing what they land on. Over in the far corner is a roulette table. Ah, I know this game, sort of. I have seen it in movies.

  “Roulette?” I smile sweetly.

  He takes my hand and leads me over to the Roulette table. A beautiful, older brunette woman is playing, and she is accompanied by a much younger looking, handsome man. He is sitting on the stool next to her and has his hand on her leg. They are both dressed to the nines and she is laughing out loud with the table cheering her on.