I’d gone and fallen for him in the worst possible way.
How did you handle falling for a guy who spent his life trying to keep everybody at arm’s length?
Not that he’d said it in so many words, but it was plain enough to see.
If he’d ever been serious about a woman, I’d eat my hat. Or I would, as soon as I found a hat to wear.
Sighing, I felt around on the foot of the bed for something to pull on—Sly almost always just tossed his clothes there when he got in. Sure enough, I found cotton, worn and thin, cool to the touch so I knew he’d been in the suite for a while.
Once I had his T-shirt on, I slipped out of the room and walked through the darkened rooms, uneasy and restless.
I’d have to call the cops tomorrow—both in Branson and here.
It would all start all over.
How was Sly going to react to that?
Well, it wasn’t his problem to react to, not really. I’d do it from my own room and if they wanted to see me, I’d drive myself. I’d hardly touched my car since I’d driven in from Branson—
“My car,” I whispered.
It was parked in the Casino Torrid parking garage. And he could make his way in there, theoretically, couldn’t he? It wouldn’t be that hard. Hell, there was no theoretically to it.
All he had to do was walk into most of the parking garages. They weren’t secured.
They were monitored, but not secured.
Would he be able to figure out what hotel I was staying in simply through that?
That was it.
First thing tomorrow, I’d go down to my car and remove anything that could identify me and if I had, I smash the back end of my car up against the wall to keep him from being able to read my license plate. Put something over the vehicle identification number. That would help, wouldn’t it?
And if he’s already figured out where you are and he’s watching the car?
“I’ll ask a security guard to go with me,” I muttered.
I wasn’t going to stay frozen inside this hotel for fear that he’d find me the second I stepped outside. I had no idea how he could ever have ended up in Las Vegas to find me, but I wasn’t about to keep hiding forever.
My car was unmolested.
The security guard made me feel a little better when he told me that the parking level I was on was actually a secured level—only available to certain guests and high-level hotel administration employees.
Still, I did exactly as I’d planned. I’d rather deal with the trouble of lugging my registration around in the suitcase I called a purse than leave it in the car, and once I had my car backed up against the wall, barely a half-inch space remained. The security guard and I both tried to read the plate and it couldn’t be done.
I only felt a little bit foolish as I headed back in.
I didn’t go to Sly’s room.
I’d left him a note that I needed to take care of some stuff so I’d be in my room.
I couldn’t keep using his computer to search for his sister because sooner or later, I’d forget to clear the cache. I knew myself well enough to admit that.
I also needed to shower and put on some fresh clothes, make the calls to the cops that I’d been putting off, and I’d do that better if I didn’t have to worry about freaking out in front of him.
Okay. I was going to freak out. But I could hold it together until after I had made the calls and then I wouldn’t feel so stupid for freaking out in front of him.
On my way up the elevator to my room, I rode with a few stragglers from either a really late night or some seriously early risers who had yet to hit the coffee pot. I think I was the only one awake amongst them, which was pretty impressive considering I’d only gotten a couple more hours of sleep after I’d woken up.
I lowered to the floor, lingering to make sure nobody had followed me. I’d picked up the habit after Topher had tried to follow me home several times. I’d grown paranoid because of him and I hated it. I hated that it was coming back because of him. But nobody got off on my floor and after lingering to make sure the car wasn’t going to come back, I hurried to my door and slid inside.
The lights were off.
I hurriedly flipped them on.
Grabbing one of the pretty dust collectors from the Queen Anne replica in the foyer, I eased my way through the suite, turning on lights as I went. It wasn’t until all of them were on and I’d dispelled all the ghosts that lingered in the shadows that I felt better.
I went back to the door, feeling a little silly as I returned the small sculpture of a running coyote but I’d rather feel a little silly than a lot…whatever Topher wanted to do to me. I flipped the extra lock on the door and leaned against it, heaving out a breath as my back made contact with the cool metal door.
This living in fear thing was exhausting.
I didn’t enjoy it one bit.
After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I sat down at my computer. There was still nothing in the message inbox from Facebook so I grabbed my phone.
I didn’t want to make either of these calls, but there was no way to put it off anymore.
It took nearly an hour to make both calls and I felt hollowed and scraped out by the time I’d finished the call to the Las Vegas Police Department. The detective I’d spoken to originally wouldn’t be in for a few days so her partner had taken the call. He was every bit as much of an ass as his partner wasn’t and it had been an ordeal just trying to explain why I was so shaken to see my stalker show up several states away from where he should be.
“You realize it’s not a crime to walk down a sidewalk,” I mimicked, echoing the asshole’s words to me.
“It’s not a crime to be an asshole either,” I muttered, glaring at my phone. “But it should be.”
That made me smile a little and I decided I wanted to eat some breakfast. I was halfway across the floor when my phone chimed, signaling an incoming message.
Of course, it had chimed several times during the call, too. It had chimed to signal a dying battery. I’d left my charger in my room, and Sly used an iPhone while I preferred Android so I hadn’t been able to charge my phone in his room.
I had exactly enough juice to bring the screen up, open the app, open the message and read the first few lines.
And the piece of shit died on me.
Apparently when you see the alert that the battery is at five percent and you need to plug in, you really do need to plug in.
“Son of a bitch.”
The message had been from Addison Flanagan.
And I don’t think she’d thought I was crazy, either.
I rushed into my bedroom to find my charger and plugged it in, only to see the charging battery icon that was so familiar. I hated technology. I watched the damn thing.
For a full three minutes, I think.
Then it occurred to me.
One of the reasons I’d wanted to come to my room was because I had a computer—one I wouldn’t have to worry about Sly seeing me trying to find his sister.
Lurching upright, I ran into the living room area of my suite so fast, my socked feet skidded on the hardwood floors. I didn’t care. As long as I got to the damn computer.
My belly rumbled at me, reminding me I’d been about to order some breakfast. Nope, didn’t care about that, either.
It was almost ten. If I wanted to talk to Sly, I had to do it soon or I wasn’t going to be able to see him until after rehearsals—they took that shit seriously. Angel had joked the building could be on fire and the three would use it as a chance to practice one final illusion.
I was so anxious, I entered my password wrong on Facebook—three times. I ended up having to do the stupid security check, which, in my opinion, one had to be a genius to pass. I managed though and finally logged in, a full ten minutes after the message had popped into my inbox.
Ten minutes.
Not a big deal.
But it said the user who’d sent it was no longer activ
e.
“Oh, come on!” I shouted at the screen. But then I blew out a breath and focused on the message itself.
Hi
Okay, first up, this is seriously weird. I hope you don’t end up asking for my social security number or anything like that next. LOL!
Yes, I was born in the Dallas area. In Mesquite, to be specific, although I’m not going to be any more specific than that. I was adopted when I was four. It’s my birth name that I use on Facebook because some part of me always hoped my mom or someone else from my family would come looking for me.
I was told that I had a brother. I’m pretty sure you’re not him. Unless you have had an interesting life?
I’ve always wanted to find my family, so please don’t jerk me around on this.
I breathed out a sigh, uncertain if it was fear or relief…both?
Sly was so certain he’d done something that had killed his sister. His stepdad had said they’d taken her away…?
I needed more, I realized. Before I told him anything.
I needed more.
Taking a deep breath, I put my hands on the keyboard and began to type.
I promise I’m not jerking you around on this, but I hope you understand that I need more before I can say anything to him.
This is going to sound terrible, but he’s been made to believe you…okay, I can’t soften this and I’m sorry. You two had a terrible time of it when you were very young and he was told that you had died.
Not wanting to say much more beyond that, I added in the details about Sly’s mother and the day she’d died, then, at the last second, I mentioned the stepfather’s name.
Hitting the little send icon, I blew out a breath and…hoped.
There wasn’t anything else to do.
The little notification…active six minutes ago…changed to seven as soon as I hit send and I groaned.
“Come on…one thing going my way isn’t going to be a bad thing, is it?”
But as I sat and watched, hoping it would change, the only change that happened was the minutes from seven to eight.
Knowing I’d drive myself nuts, I decided to go ahead with breakfast. A girl had to eat, after all.
Halfway through my Belgian waffle, my phone chimed.
The message was simple.
Can you call me?
It was followed by a phone number.
I sucked in a breath and without letting myself think, I dialed—and I got syrup on the screen. I didn’t care.
A woman’s voice came on the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi…” Wow. This was awkward. “So, um…we’ve been Facebooking.” I rolled my eyes at my lameness and forged on. “My name is Emmy. I’m kind of…seeing your brother. At least, I think he’s your brother.”
“Oh, shit,” she whispered. “Please, please, please, don’t be jerking me around.”
Her voice went from shaky to thick with tears before she even finished the sentence.
“I’m not. And…look, I can’t promise I’m right, but…”
“I have a picture of us. All of us!” she blurted out. “I was only a baby. He looks like he was four or five. Mama was in the picture. He’d know what she looks like, right?”
“Honey…”
“Wouldn’t he?” she asked, voice almost pleading.
The need in that voice gutted me, and suddenly a deep, gut-wrenching fear hit me. What if I was wrong? What if I was wrong and I ended up upending this girl’s life, all over again?
“I’m not sure. He was young,” I said slowly.
“Can you…you could show him. Maybe? Maybe you could ask him if he’d remember and show him. If he recognizes her, then we can…” She hesitated, then said softly, “I don’t want to meet him if it’s not a really good chance. I just…look, my adopted parents were killed in a car crash two years ago. I don’t have any family left. I don’t want to think this could be him and then it turns out it’s not. If it’s possible, then yes, but…”
“Send me the picture.”
I’d already gone this far, after all. What else was I supposed to do?
Sly wasn’t in his room.
After I checked the time, I knew why.
Groaning, I realized I’d probably missed him by maybe five minutes. He was already at practice and would be there for the next four hours or so. Those guys took this all very seriously. I couldn’t go and interrupt him.
Maybe this was interruption-worthy, but I had no idea where they practiced at, for one.
And even if I could find out, did I even have that right?
Frustrated, I shoved my phone into my pocket and liberated my debit card from my purse.
I was going to do the one thing I hadn’t done since arriving in Las Vegas. I needed a distraction. I needed to kill time. I was going to find a slot machine and gamble—I might even order a cocktail. So what if it wasn’t even eleven in the morning?
Eleven came and went and I handled my early morning gin and tonic just fine.
Eleven-thirty passed and I’d won almost five hundred on a slot machine, so I was definitely doing better than if I’d stayed in my room and brooded.
But at 11:59, my luck changed.
Someone sat down at the machine next to mine and I ignored him. The last time I’d struck up a conversation with a random stranger at a casino, some guy had tried to talk me into a three-way with him and his dog—seriously, and disgusting.
It might not be four a.m. and all’s not well right now, but I wasn’t going to take a chance.
Keeping my gaze firmly fixed on the little dancing devil on the screen, I hit the button for the reels to spin again.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day, doll,” a voice said just at my shoulder.
A familiar voice.
I stiffened.
A hand clamped down on my shoulder. “You scream, Emerald, blood’s going to flow,” Topher said calmly.
I had stopped taking his words lightly about the same time my house exploded, so I remained still and silent.
“You know, I couldn’t believe you’d run this far from me. When I first saw your picture on the internet, I just couldn’t believe it,” he said.
Through my nearly numb lips, I asked, “What picture?”
“You didn’t see it?” He chuckled, but there was no mirth in the sound. Just anger. “It figures. You’re out here whoring around and you don’t even realize people were watching…people saw, people took pictures when you let that dirty bastard put his hands on you. Did you know they took pictures when that son of a bitch kissed you on the street, Emerald?”
For a moment, I had no idea what he was talking, then it hit me.
The day Sly had flipped off a photographer.
I’d asked him if his fans would see that. He’d said probably. Then he kissed me. Right in front of the photographer. And that kiss had made me forget everything. Every kiss from Sly did that to me. Like a drug. A memory-erasing, arousal-inducing narcotic. Damn.
“The picture. Oh. Right.” Shit. Swallowing back the bile, I found the urge to scream at myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Did you like it when he kissed you, Emerald?” He slid a hand up my back. “You looked like you enjoyed it.”
I edged away from his touch. “Don’t you dare move another fucking inch,” he warned, a deadly, honest threat in his voice.
I froze. Sliding him a look, I tried to think past the fog clouding my brain. What was he going to do? He couldn’t do it in public, and there was no way I’d let him take me someplace private. He had no idea the security here was looking for him, so I just had to be patient—
He put his phone on the machine in front of me.
A woman’s pained expression was the first thing I saw.
The second thing was that she was tied, naked, to a chair.
The third thing…Topher’s smiling face, right next to hers.
“You’ve always thought you were too fucking good for me, Emerald,” he said. “I noticed that about you fr
om the beginning. I loved the challenge. You gave me a run for my money. It’s one of the many things I love about you.” The hand on my shoulder slid to my neck and his thumb rubbed up against my skin.
“Of course, you decided to start playing the role of dirty little slut out here, but we can get past that.”
I barely heard half of what he said. Staring at the picture, I wanted to puke. Caught by the woman’s miserable eyes, I tried to take deep breaths but could only manage shallow, labored inhales of air ad I fought back the urge to throw up.
“She’s in a hotel a few blocks away. If you go with me, she can live. If you don’t…” He laughed softly. “Well, I’ll have fun with her at least.”
“And what happens to me if I leave with you?” I asked, my voice coming in a series of hitching pants. That woman’s face.
You can’t leave with him!
“You and I will be together,” Topher said simply. “That’s all I want.”
“You’d hurt an innocent woman just to force me to come with you.” Finally, I dared to turn my head and look at him.
He’d dyed his hair, from dirty blond to a dark shade of brown. He also wore a pair of glasses, but the lenses were gone. How close did one have to be to him to notice that, though? I had no idea. Would the security guards here notice?
Would they see it was him?
Would they notice me?
“She’s not innocent.” He smiled brightly at me. “She was trying to pick my pocket when I was in the store near my hotel. I told her if she wanted money, I’d pay her to have sex with me and she believed me. She’s a thief and a whore. See? Not innocent.”
Now I really wanted to puke.
Someone who was desperate enough to sleep with him for money was now trapped in a hotel and…and…and…
My breathing hitched as bile roiled up into my throat and an awful taste gagged me. I didn’t know if I’d be able to fight it back—but then I did. “Can I have a drink?” I asked calmly, nodding toward the one sitting by the machine.
My head was spinning and I knew that had something to do with the cocktails I’d been sipping since I sat down, as well as the fear. How many drinks had I had?
Rule You (Vegas Knights Book 3) Page 13
