Losing Enough

by Helen Boswell

  “I will.” His voice changes, sounds pained. “There’s nothing I want more, love.”

  Say something else before he ends the call.

  Tell him how you feel about him, how important he is to you.

  “Me too,” I say softly. “I’ll see you soon.”

  He ends the call, and I look down on Las Vegas Boulevard into the crowd of tourists. Hundreds of terrible secrets hidden down there, ill intentions, greed, malice. There could be dozens of people like Cruz walking around, looking for a way to take advantage of someone else, a way to destroy someone else’s life.

  But I’m sure there are also a fair number of people down there who are carrying all of those dreams that they still believe in, like Elle. Or who have scars and harsh pasts like Connor but are still willing to take a chance on people and love them. Like the person that took a chance on me.

  I took a chance on Connor, too. And I care about him so much. More than I’ve cared about anyone.

  Why didn’t I tell him that? Because it would have been on the phone, and there’s something too impersonal about that. But at least then I could have been sure that he knew.

  “Shit, Alex. Are you ever going to tell me what he said?” Elle takes hold of my arm and gently shakes me out of my daze.

  “He’s taking care of some things, like you said.” My voice is monotone, and it sounds dead to me. “He’s alone, he’s going to be careful, and he’ll call when he’s finished.”

  “That’s it?” she demands, but then she looks at my face, and her mouth turns down in a frown. “Girl, you okay?”

  “Yes,” I say truthfully. “I’m okay.” Because I have to be.

  Turns out Elle was right. Trying to get into Maxwell’s Room is like trying to get into a popular club when your name’s not on the guest list. The guard posted outside the doors is like a tank, and I’ve already asked if he could relay a message to my father (assuming he’s inside). That request only got me stony silence. I doubt the family emergency card and the I’ll-talk-to-your-manager route will get me anywhere with this rock.

  I smile to hide my frustration and continue hacking away at him. I’ve done everything save batting my eyelashes and waving my fourteen grand under his nose. “You can’t turn me away if I have the money to cover the buy-in,” I protest.

  “You didn’t come here to play.” He speaks over my head, a testament to how little worth he’s attributing to me. Damn him.

  “I wouldn’t be carrying around this kind of cash if I didn’t want to play,” I bluff, reaching into my purse. Man, if this works, I may actually try my hand at poker.

  “Oh, honey, no. What are you doing?”

  I recognize the soft Texan drawl and whip around to face the gorgeous blonde who’s Connor’s client. She’s accompanied by a muscular black dude who is looking at me with undisguised interest. This has to be Neil, and my face has to be beet red.

  They’re standing behind me like they’ve been waiting for me to get my ass out of the way so they can get into Maxwell’s Room. Probably listening to the whole thing. Despite my embarrassment over this entire situation (I’ll get over it), the practical side of me brightens at the prospect of being able to find out if my dad is inside.

  “Honestly, I’m just trying to find out if my father’s in there,” I admit in a low voice so Stony Face won’t hear. “If you’re going in, would you mind –”

  “Hold on,” she interrupts.

  She steps away from me before I can describe my dad to her, and I watch as she simultaneously flashes a card and a stern look at the guard. He steps back and opens the door for her like she’s royalty, and she sweeps through the doorway, leaving me and Elle alone with her security.

  I stare at him. “Are you Neil?”

  He smiles, and there’s warmth in his expression I didn’t expect. “I am. And you must be Alexis.”

  I don’t know how to respond to that, to the fact that he knows who I am. Obviously Connor told Neil about me if he gave me his phone number, but I can’t help be curious as to what else Connor told him about me. I’m rescued from having to say anything either way when his client emerges from the room.

  “We’ll come back a bit later, Neil,” she says in a quiet voice, and he nods like any of this makes sense.

  She takes my arm in a firm grasp and leads me away from the doors. Neil is hot on our tail, and Elle walks next to him. I catch her looking at him like she wants to eat him up for dessert, and I almost snicker. Almost.

  “Your father’s not in there,” she says in a low voice.

  I raise my eyebrows, surprised. “You know him?”

  “Yes. We’ve never met, but I know who he is.” Her blue eyes appraise me coolly. “My name is Maya Coplin, a friend and client of Connor’s. And I of course know who you are, Alexis. You’re Connor’s girlfriend.”

  I’m already feeling emotionally wracked from the ups and downs of this day in general, but yikes. I don’t even know if I believe in defining relationships like that, but the fact that Maya did means that Connor thinks of me as his girlfriend. But it’s okay…it’s okay that he does.

  Connor…I want him to call me and tell me that everything’s all right and that Cruz is gone. I want it so badly that it hurts.

  Maya gives me an astute look as though she can tell what I’m thinking and asks, “Have you had the pleasure of meeting Cruz yet?”

  I check her out like she’s doing to me, noticing how her eyes narrow and her lips turn down in distaste at the mention of Connor’s brother.

  “Oh boy, have I ever,” I say bitterly. “Just met the guy today, actually.”

  She suddenly steers me toward the entrance of a theater. The doors are closed, and she squeezes around a set of poles holding velvet rope and walks to the entryway, which serves as a sort of alcove with privacy. I follow, seeing Neil out of the corner of my eye move to block the alcove with his muscly form, with tiny little Elle to keep him company.

  Maya holds me with her gaze. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

  I still need to find my dad, and I don’t know why I bother telling her what happened with Cruz. Maybe because she just helped me by scoping out the oh-so-exclusive Maxwell’s room. Maybe because of the look she gave the stony-faced guard that wouldn’t let me through. Or because she introduced herself as Connor’s friend in addition to being a client.

  She leans forward, seeming to hang on every word I say, smiling at me when I’m all done. It’s not exactly a happy or friendly smile.

  “I have a proposition for you,” she says. “Your father has basically involved himself with some very ruthless people. But I think I may be able to help, if he’s willing to help me.”

  Ruthless people. Maya stares at me with this gleam in her eye, and I see that this is a woman with power. She might be a client of Connor’s, and while she might have a lot of money that needs protection, there’s nothing about her that speaks to weakness.

  I know I have to make a choice right now, need to figure out how much I’m willing to gamble.

  Winning only comes from knowing how much you can stand to lose. That’s what Dad told me that day he first took me out on the floor, and I finally think I get it. My dad jumped from what was probably minor financial trouble to even bigger problems with these ruthless criminals. Connor’s out there putting himself into some dangerous situation to get rid of his brother, and I have a feeling that he’s doing it as much for me as it as he’s doing for him.

  I should have acted on the signs that my dad wasn’t acting like himself and pressed the issue more. I shouldn’t have wasted precious time assuming the worst and ignoring Connor for a good part of a week when I could have been spending that time with him. We could have come up with a plan together instead of him having to do this alone.

  But maybe that’s also too many “could haves” and “should haves.” The people I care about have already lost enough. Too much time wasted. Too much pain endured. I’m not willing to let them lose anything more.

>   I look Maya in the eye. “I’m listening.”

  29

  Connor

  It was one in the afternoon by the time I left Vegas, right at the end of the fucking lunchtime rush. I stop twice to call Alex – the first time only managing to get through to Elle but succeeding the second time. I let myself have that brief moment to hang onto Alex’s voice, to let myself realize the gravity of what I’m doing right now. To let myself wish I didn’t have to leave her.

  After that, I shut everything down and go into survival mode, like I do when I’m on the job, only even more so. More like I did back when I was going through SEAL boot camp and trying to emerge on the top. Back when I realized pretty quickly that it didn’t matter how on top of the group I was. I just had to survive.

  Same thing here. I need to get through this, and then I can go back home, to my real home in Vegas where Alex is waiting for me. And see where things go from there.

  I get to the outskirts of Albuquerque in less than eight hours, silently thanking Neil and his Ducati and the fact that I don’t hit any major traffic along the way. I stop at the city limits to gas up and make a second stop at a cheap motel to pay forty bucks for a small but reasonably clean room. The place is far enough away from the city that I’m fairly sure it’s in neutral territory. Neil’s people had recommended a safe radius around the city, and the last thing I want to do is to sleep on some gang’s turf.

  Hopefully I won’t even have to stay the night. I’d given myself two days in case I needed it, but if luck is on my side, I can blow town late tonight, stay somewhere way the hell away from here, and be back to Vegas tomorrow.

  I don’t have anything with me except for the clothes on my back, wallet, phone, and Sig. I go into the room anyway to take a piss. Maybe also to regroup and to try to shrug off some the tension that’s in my back and shoulders from riding for so long. I haven’t eaten since I briefly stopped in Arizona to grab some shitty fast food, but I’m pumped full of adrenaline right now and not hungry.

  My phone’s been off since I last used it to call Alex, and I keep it off and leave it in the room so I don’t run the risk of it being confiscated. The closest connections I have in the world are eight hours away, and everyone I plan on seeing while I’m here is mostly a stranger to me. But I have to use those old relationships to my favor to get Cruz out of Vegas and back here where he belongs. For good.

  First things first. Before I do anything about Cruz, I have to take care of some personal business. Neil did some basic research for me after I left Vegas, texted me the info while I was in transit. Just an address. I didn’t tell him the significance of it, and he hadn’t asked.

  I’d looked up the address on my phone as soon as Neil sent it to me, and now I follow the route to the southeastern part of the city. It’s a nice neighborhood, on the outskirts of the city near the air force base, and the houses look on the newer side and like part of an actual community. They probably pass ordinances here about things like noise control and what kind of landscaping they require.

  It’s almost nine-thirty by the time I pull up to the two-story house. I hesitate with the motor idling, taking note of the newish BMW SUV parked outside the two-car garage. Compared to the one I grew up in, this house is practically a mansion. The upstairs is dark, but the first-floor windows are lit. My gut twists in a knot as I catch a glimpse of movement behind the sheer curtains covering one of the windows.

  Laura’s house.

  It’s in a neighborhood a class or two above the area Laura grew up in, too. Back then, I always thought of her as being privileged, but in retrospect, I know that’s not really true. I only thought that because of her – how perfect she looked all of the time. But we went to the same school, and she grew up in a neighborhood that wasn’t all that different than mine.

  Neil hadn’t mentioned if she lived with anyone or had a family, but then again, I hadn’t asked. But this place is too big for her to live in alone.

  I kill the engine. Fuck it. This is the last time I’ll be here. Now or never.

  I get off the bike and walk up to the front door, knocking before I lose my nerve. The footsteps approach quickly, the tread light enough to make me think it’s a woman. I glance down at myself and think about how I must look in the black biker jacket at this time of night, but the door opens with a chain in place before I can do anything about it.

  Laura’s suddenly looking through the crack in the door. She still looks good, same platinum blonde hair, same creamy skin, but I wasn’t lying to Alex when I said I was over her. I check her out, but it’s an objective assessment. I feel surprisingly detached about it. Almost like when I run into any other woman I’ve slept with. Except for Alex.

  “Cruz…” She has glasses on, a book clutched to her chest, and she frowns heavily as she speaks my brother’s name. She slowly lowers her glasses. “Connor?” she whispers.

  “Hi, Laura.”

  She blinks at me like an owl while I search for something else to say. I didn’t think it would be totally easy to do this, and it’s not. The sight of Laura dredges up my old feelings of guilt, ties my tongue into knots. I’d had a lot of time to think about things on the ride here. Thought long and hard about what I would say to Laura when I saw her, but that doesn’t mean I came up with anything good.

  Before I can work out something to say, she shuts the door. I cringe inwardly, my guilt immediately mixing with disappointment, but honestly, what was I expecting? I mostly wanted to come here to see for myself if she was doing well. If the house and vehicle are any indication, she’s at least financially secure.

  I turn away to leave, but I’m surprised when I hear the chain slide back. Laura slips outside to stand on the stoop and quickly shuts the door behind her.

  “My husband is upstairs putting our daughter to bed,” she hisses. “I haven’t seen you in forever. What are you doing here?”

  She’s still beautiful, her hair short now, her features obviously matured since we were teenagers. I notice that she’s a little round in the middle, but I’m not about to travel down that slippery slope and ask if she’s pregnant – in case she’s not.

  “I’m passing through and wanted to stop by.” It’s not a lie. “And I know it’s been a long time, but I’ve always wondered how you were doing, if you were happy.”

  “Oh…” She blinks again, and her brow furrows even deeper like she’s wrestling with her own thoughts. Her expression finally clears as she looks me up and down. “You look really good. And yes, I’m pretty happy,” she says with a small smile.

  “I’m glad.” I mean it because she deserves it.

  “Yeah.” Her hands land on the bump on her belly. “We’re expecting number two. Our daughter’s already five.”

  “Congratulations,” I say. “That’s great.”

  “What about you? Are you still in the Navy? Are you married or…” She trails off, her gaze dropping again. Probably looking for a wedding band.

  “I’m good,” I say. “Not actively in the Navy anymore. I’m in Vegas now. Not married, but I’m seeing someone.” It feels good to say it. Although it makes me think about how Alex is too far away from me right now.

  “Lucky girl... You look really amazing, Connor.”

  It’s not at all what I’d expected her to say. The closing the door in my face thing, that’s more of what I thought would happen. Laura continues to look at me like she’s struggling with something she wants to say, and I watch as she inhales.

  “I’m so sorry for before,” she whispers. “I know it’s too much to ever ask for your forgiveness, but I need to apologize for what happened between us.”

  I stare at her, the apology sending me spiraling into a stupor. She has no reason to say she’s sorry. I’m the one...

  “This is crazy, but I was just thinking about this the other day, and here you are,” she says quickly, like she’s afraid that I’ll bolt. “I’ve always felt so bad for cheating on you with Cruz –”

  “What?”
<
br />   “You were just so into all of that training stuff for the Navy…” She squeezes her eyes shut for a second. “No, no, none of it was your fault. You were good to me, Connor. But I was selfish and stupid, and…well, already drunk and wanting to party that night, and Cruz was right there.”

  Holy fucking shit. She’s serious. She’s saying this like she made a decision to take those drugs and have sex with my brother. Even if I believe her, I’ve held onto it for so long. Too long. The guilt over what happened to her. My anger at Cruz. But it suddenly all become muddled as I try to understand what she’s trying to say.

  My head hurts as I fight to process this, and I swallow my pride and ask, “You wanted to take those drugs…and sleep with him?”

  Her cheeks become a mottled pink. “I…Yes. I didn’t really know what I was getting into with the drugs, but I wanted to have some fun. I’m so sorry. I knew how you felt about that stuff, but Cruz offered, and I did it anyway. I was so ashamed about it afterward, especially when I found out that you’re the one who called the ambulance for me. And Cruz and I…Yeah.” She hangs her head. Actually fucking hangs her head while I wade through my shock.

  “I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me someday,” she whispers. Her hand holding her glasses reaches out for me, but she reconsiders at the last second and drops it.

  I feel this heaviness lift from my heart like Laura said or wherever I’ve kept it for so long. I wasn’t a good boyfriend like she says, but we believe what we want to, right? And all these years, I had it in my head it was Cruz’s fault – and mine. Never once did I think that Laura wanted it. I believed he took advantage of her because that was what I needed to believe.