Losing Enough

by Helen Boswell

  I want to ask when Cruz’s deadline was to bring me home, but Martin’s not the type of guy who answers questions without getting his own questions answered first. Maybe not even then. I have to try to appease him, and disclosing the information I’d gotten from Neil and Maya is part of my eventual plan anyhow.

  “Cruz has been trying to edge in on a suspected racketeering scheme. So far all he’s managed to do is make contact with some of the low-level grunts of the operation. But if he starts edging his way in any deeper, he’s going to piss off the big players, and they’ll retaliate.”

  Martin doesn’t respond, those eyes of his feeling me out more effectively than any lie detector. But I’m not pulling any fast ones here – this is the truth. There’s real danger for my brother and for Martin’s gang if they don’t call Cruz back home, and that’s what I’m going for.

  “And how do you know this?” he finally says. “Do you have connections with this group?”

  “No,” I say honestly. “I would never get involved with these people. But when Cruz showed up and told me he was going to stay until the end of the month, I had him tailed to see what he was up to.” I shrug. “Apparently while he was having me tailed at the same time. Must be a twin thing.”

  Martin throws his head back and laughs, and it’s not a happy sound. It’s almost maniacal, makes me uncomfortable to listen to, and I can almost feel an increase in tension in his thug and in the guys guarding the front of the diner. I don’t imagine he’s a guy who laughs often, and it’s like he’s unleashing a little bit of that madness when he finally does.

  He shakes his index finger at me, still smiling widely. “No, you had him followed because you are no fool, Connor. Cruz isn’t either, though perhaps in this case his ambition got in the way of his judgment.” His brow furrows. “Cruz has been like a son to me, or a younger brother. But if he’s acting rashly and without my consent, there’s little I can do about it.”

  He’d wash his hands of Cruz to save the gang at large. Not surprised to hear it. But in some fucked-up sense, I can almost understand why sheer desperation would make someone flock to a guy like Martin. Why someone who had nothing would be willing to fight for and maybe even die for the lifestyle. Cruz did it not only because he wanted to protect us, but because he didn’t have a father figure or family in general that Martin and the gang eventually became. I know he wanted me to jump in with him, that in his mind it would have been the best scenario, a happily-ever-after ending for both of us.

  I wonder how Cruz would feel now, to hear Martin say that Cruz dug his own grave and needs to lie on it. But that still doesn’t solve my problem of needing my brother to leave the city, and my need to protect my name and the people I care about.

  “These people in Vegas,” I say, “they won’t stop with him. If they take Cruz out, they’ll get retribution by coming after your group. Cruz is your agent, and he’s out there representing you whether you gave your consent or not.”

  I look Martin hard in the eye, watch as comprehension settles in his eyes and sets hard in his jaw. Now’s the time to make my plea.

  “You need to call Cruz back home,” I say. “And keep him here for good.”

  Martin breaks eye contact with me for the first time since I entered the diner, snapping his fingers loudly and calling the waitress over.

  “Más café!” He practically slams his coffee cup down on the table as he orders more, his eyes narrowing as he turns back to me. “¿Quieres un poco?” he asks, as though remembering his manners.

  I lift my hand off the table and gesture that no, I wouldn’t like any, before dropping it again. Need to stay focused, even though this conversation is testing my stamina beyond any physical test I’ve ever put myself through. I have so much at stake, so much to lose, so much to look forward to if I come out on top of this. And I just have to make it a little bit longer because I feel like I’m in the homestretch – I laid out my concerns, expressed the danger to Martin and his gang in what I’m pretty sure was a non-threatening manner, and now I have to wait and see what he says.

  Worst case scenario is that he tells me to fuck off and take care of my own problems. I have a feeling he won’t do this. But he could ask for something else from me in exchange for him pulling Cruz out. I sit patiently as the waitress refills his coffee, feeling the exhaustion creep over me like the grease coating the table. I almost reconsider the offer of coffee, but I don’t want to take anything from Martin.

  “Why did you come all this way to tell me this in person?” he demands as he mixes a shitload of sugar into his coffee. “What’s in it for you?”

  “Cruz is still my brother,” I say simply. “We have our differences, but I also don’t want him to get killed.”

  It’s not a lie. I’m still working through what Laura revealed to me earlier tonight. What she confessed to me changed things but it didn’t. It changed things because Cruz didn’t drug and have sex with my girlfriend without her consent. But the fact that he got her so drunk and high that she had to have her stomach pumped, the fact that he went ahead and fucked her – I still can’t forgive those things. But that doesn’t mean I want him dead.

  Martin leans back in the booth, his fingers tapping against the table and his eyes like amber stones. “You want him out of your neck of the woods, is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  He sips at his coffee, addressing me over the rim of the mug. “You’re intelligent. Smart enough that I don’t think you’d try to lie to me, to make up a story and risk meeting with me simply because you want your brother out of your hair. Am I right?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  He stays silent for longer than necessary, makes me sweat it out as he decides on his answer.

  Finally, he nods.

  “I have a cousin who lives in Henderson. I’ll give you his number, and you call him tomorrow, make arrangements with him to send Cruz home. Either go with him to collect Cruz, or you can deliver him to my cousin, whatever you prefer.” His eyes gleam at me. “But no guarantees that this is forever. If there does turn out to be an opportunity for us in Vegas as Cruz seems to think, we will be back.”

  I keep my opinion to myself, the opinion that Maya and Neil shared that their small operation doesn’t stand a chance in Vegas. And I work hard to hide my relief even though all of my nerves are buzzing with tension. I want to ride full throttle out of this god-forsaken place, but I simply nod back.

  “Thank you.” I hesitate, then decide to press my luck. “To be clear, you and I are even. I owe you nothing, and you owe me nothing.”

  He chuckles, and I brace myself against the sound escalating to a laugh, but it never comes.

  “Sí, sí. Consider us even, Connor.” His eyes glimmer, and his mouth twists into what might be a smile. “Unless you’d consider joining us.”

  “No, thank you,” I manage to say without choking. “But I say that with all due respect, sir.”

  I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here, but I force myself to go through the formalities. Shake hands with Martin, wait for Scar to give me back my piece and resist the urge to punch him in the face when he takes his sweet old time examining it before finally handing it over. Doing it deliberately, of course, to test my patience or to throw his weight around and be a dick about it. Probably the latter.

  “That’s a nice jacket, Marino,” Scar says. “My brother has a bike. He’d look good in that.”

  Whatever the fucking hell. I just want to get out of here, and I take my wallet and keys out of the pockets before shoving it back to him. I make sure I clip him hard on the shoulder in the process.

  “You can have it,” I say. “But that’s all your entire operation is ever getting from me.”

  I walk out of the diner, and they let me.

  Cruz chose his lot in life, forged his own bonds, and there’s no way I can talk or barter his way out of that. I imagine that he’ll be punished when he gets back, but I got the sense from Martin that he values Cruz,
does see him as a member of the family and hopefully an asset. It’s the best I can do for him right now.

  I stop by the motel on my way out to grab my phone and throw my key on the front counter before taking off. It’s the dead of night, but there’s no way I’m going to stay in this city one second more. I hit Route 40 and ride hard and fast, chilled to the bone in only my t-shirt and jeans, but I keep riding even when I feel the exhaustion settle hard into my body. It’s a good two hours until I hit the next major city right before Arizona, and I don’t slow down until I get there.

  I ride around until I find a hotel that displays a sign for underground parking, and I hide Neil’s bike to the side of some guest’s big SUV in one of the dark corners far in the back. I’m shivering when I stumble into the lobby – not having the riding jacket sucked, and I make a mental note to buy Neil another one or two to make up for it. The late-night clerk at the front desk gives me a curious look as I ask for a room, but I ignore it and shell out cash, not even caring at this point how much it is.

  I walk into the room, throw the helmet on the chair, kick out of my shoes and jeans, peel off my shirt, and collapse on the bed. Alex swims through my thoughts as I close my eyes. I desperately want to call her, to hear her voice, but I can’t fucking move to get my phone. First thing tomorrow.

  It’s late, and I’m dead-tired and need to sleep so I can hit the road before daybreak. But I lie awake for a while, listening to the sounds around me. Laughter in the hallway as people come back from the bar. Some jackass’ car alarm that goes off outside the window for a full five minutes before someone bothers to go outside and deactivate it. I toss and turn to lie on my back and eventually rest my arm over my eyes.

  I’m used to sleeping alone, but God, I wish Alex was here with me right now.

  32

  Alex

  I wake from a nightmare and bolt up to a sitting position, a knot in my stomach as I look around the room. I can’t remember if I’m at Elle’s or at Connor’s or if I’d gone with the cot in Maya’s living room, and I blink and look at a room I don’t recognize.

  I hug my knees to my chest, everything that happened from last night flooding my head with unwelcome clarity. Cruz had pulled a gun on me last night, and Neil had driven straight to Elle’s rehearsal afterward. He brought both of us to stay at his house, saying he’d sleep on the couch for the night. Saying it was the safest place for us until things calm down.

  I need this madness to be over.

  My phone is sitting on the floor, where I’d left it to charge last night, and I climb out of bed and dive for it. Nothing. No messages or missed calls from Connor. I close my eyes as the disappointment mixes with worry and a hell of a lot of fear.

  I huff out a breath and open my eyes again, picking up my phone and calling Dad.

  He picks up right away. “Baobèi! Great news!”

  It takes me a second to equilibrate between the freak-out level of stress I’m feeling in comparison to the giddiness of his tone. But I’m relieved that he’s okay and didn’t get a visit from a certain evil twin at the hospital last night.

  “What’s the amazing news?” In contrast to him, I just try my best to sound normal.

  “Your mother tested negative for the genetic clotting disorders. The physician also said he doesn’t think it’s lupus, though he’ll recommend our regular doctor monitor that when she get home.”

  I close my eyes, relief washing through me. “Oh my God, Dad. That’s so great! Do they know yet when they’re going to discharge her?”

  “Not yet. Though she’s anxious to go home.”

  I listen as he tells me that home will mean back to the hotel because apparently, flying increases the risk of blood clots and might have actually been a contributing factor to the one in her leg. She and Dad are following the physician’s recommendation to not fly back to New York until July, and he tells me that he’ll soon be moving both of us to a different suite in the hotel. He seems apologetic as he explains to me that it won’t be a VIP suite and will be a lot smaller, and I tell him that sort of thing doesn’t matter to me.

  “I’ll come by a little later if that’s okay?” I say, trying not to sound as dead as I feel. “I still need to have breakfast and stuff.”

  And find out if Neil’s heard from Connor. I need to do that most of all. I realize I have no idea what time it is, and I quickly peek at my phone’s display and see that it’s already ten-thirty in the morning. I’m surprised I slept for so long.

  “No hurry. Your mom is trying to kick me out of the room to make herself pretty, even though she always is.”

  “I know,” I say, a small smile finally making its way onto my face.

  “I’m meeting with Ms. Coplin at two. Maybe you can be at the hospital by then to keep your mother company?”

  “Not a problem. Tell her I’ll see her soon.”

  Neil’s house is actually a condo that’s attached to three other units, and the bedroom I’m in looks like it doubles as an office. I walk out of the guest room, half-expecting to find Neil standing guard somewhere with his semiautomatic. Instead, I find Elle in the kitchen, her hair standing on end and eyes red from crying and probably no sleep.

  I rush over to her and grab her in a hug, trying to stop the panic from welling up in my chest. “Hey, you okay? Did something new happen?”

  “Oh, aside from my cousin losing his fucking mind and trying to take you hostage last night at gunpoint, and not knowing if my other one is alive? No.”

  I freeze. “Connor’s alive. He has to be.”

  “Oh God, I’m sorry.” She sniffs and squeezes me back before pulling away. “I should be asking you if you’re okay. Are you freaking out?”

  “I’m fine.” I force a smile, strictly for her benefit. “I’m more worried about Connor than myself right now.”

  We both turn around as we hear the sound of the garage opening, and Neil enters a minute later with drinks from Starbucks in one hand and what looks like a shake from In-N-Out in the other.

  I stare at him suspiciously, but he averts his eyes out of either discomfort or respect. I’m wearing the only pajamas I’d had in my bag – a silky tank top and shorts pajama set – and it doesn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination. But this is no time to be overly modest, and I storm over to him.

  “A frappuccino and a chocolate shake? Did you talk to Connor this morning? Is he okay?” I demand as I take the former from him.

  “I talked to him,” he admits, and my heart skips one or two beats. “He’s on his way back.”

  “He’s okay,” I repeat. My knees feel weak, and I glance over at Elle and exchange looks of relief. I scoot around the counter to the kitchen table and sink down into the nearest chair, feeling sick as I think about what Neil had said about Connor meeting with Cruz’s people. Equally nauseous when I remember the e-mail Cruz had shoved into my face. If it’s even possible, I hate Cruz even more for planting any seeds of doubt about Connor in my head, but that was his whole intention, wasn’t it? But the e-mail said Connor had stopped by to see if she was happy, not anything else. Given what he told me about what happened between them, I can’t fault him for that.

  Neil nods, but he’s still not smiling, and my hope mixes with anxiety. “I’ll let Connor fill you in on all of the details later. There’s one loose end we have to tie up, and I’m leaving you girls here until we take care of it.”

  Whoa. I glance over at Elle and see her face crumple. Weak-kneed or not, I can’t let Neil leave us with such vague and shitty information, not when it has to do with all of us. I rise and fold my arms across my chest.

  “Uh uh. You and Connor don’t get to do that. Keep Elle and me in the dark while you guys run around and play hero. Whether you like it or not, we’re involved in this. Cruz is Elle’s cousin, too. And he followed and threatened me – twice.”

  “Yeah.” Elle stalks up to Neil in all of her five-foot-two glory and jabs a finger at his chest. “You need to tell us what you’re doing.”
She sniffs hard again. “Are you gonna kill him?”

  “No.” He stares down at Elle in surprise and takes a few seconds to collect himself. “We’re not going to kill him. We’re going to send Cruz outta here. Connor went to Albuquerque to arrange for Cruz to get a permanent one-way ticket out of Vegas.”

  Elle’s jaw drops, and I quickly process this new information. Okay, so this means that Connor “arranged” this with the people in Albuquerque – Cruz’s people, his gang? That explains the secrecy and why he didn’t want Elle to know he even left town. If she’d leaked it or if Cruz had been able to force the information out of me, he would have retaliated. But he does know Connor was in Albuquerque, thanks to Laura’s e-mail, which means he might have put it together.

  “But Cruz isn’t just going to lie down and take it if Connor tells him, right?” A chill courses through my body and makes me shudder, and Neil looks across the room like he’s trying to find me a blanket.

  “Cruz will have no choice once we deliver him to his people.” Neil’s expression closes up as he realizes he’s said too much, and I know I’m done getting any more answers from him.

  This is all going to be over soon. I don’t know exactly what I’m doing, but I stride out of the kitchen and over to the guest room with renewed purpose.

  “Alex?” There’s a warning in Neil’s voice. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I spin around. “If Connor’s on his way back, let’s go find Cruz now so he can ‘deliver’ him. The sooner the better, right?”

  It’s Neil’s turn to look incredulous. I continue into the guest room, and he follows me as I grab clothes out of my bag.

  “Hold the phone, sister. My orders are simple. You and Elle are going to stay here until it’s all done.”