The Rising King

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The Rising King Page 19

by Shea Berkley


  “We’d…just play a few games,” she says, catching on to my ploy. “Nothing high stakes…”

  “Not intentionally,” I add.

  A big smile brightens her face. “I’ll be right out.” She looks me up and down. The slacks and button-down shirt I’m wearing are nice, but not what she has in mind. “You’d best change back into your suit if you’re going to guard me from my fans.”

  She shuts the door on me. I should be irritated, but I’m not. I’m relieved and I let out a controlled sigh.

  I walk toward my room where the suit I had on is hanging in the closet. As I pass the couch, Leo and I exchange a high five. So far, our plan is working like a charm.

  Thirty minutes later, Mom comes out of her room and heads for the bar. She pours herself not one, but two shots of tequila and slams them back.

  I raise my eyebrow at her, snatch the bottle out of her reach, and cap it. She looks at me without an ounce of guilt. “Oh goody. My conscience has returned.” It was the nickname she gave me whenever I stopped her from doing something stupid. “Are we going to have fun or not?”

  Without me watching over her, she’s fallen into some seriously bad habits and it doesn’t look like she’s interested in shaking any of them off anytime soon.

  “We are. Just be careful with the stuff, okay?” I don’t want to have to fetch her from beneath the table before we even have dinner.

  She smiles. “You know me. I’m at my best all loosened up.”

  “There’s loosened up and then there’s untied.”

  She sticks her tongue out at me and heads for the door. “Come on, Jiminy Cricket.”

  In the elevator, I take a good look at her. She’s working the chic look I created, white linen pants and a breezy hot-pink top, her hair is pulled back in a loose bun, and dark shades are balanced atop her head. She’s sporting the latest jewelry trends and a big smile. When she moves, the silver bracelets on her left arm jangle happily, and the rings on her fingers sparkle as she moves her hand along the strap of her bright-yellow purse.

  “So I just believe I’m famous and I will be?”

  “That’s all that happened before. I didn’t even do anything. Just dressed you up and hovered threateningly near you.”

  “Interesting.” She holds out her hand and rubs her thumb and fingers together. “I need a little green to get started.”

  “I’ll keep the money.” When she narrows her eyes suspiciously, I explain, “It’ll keep the creeps off of you.”

  She thinks about it for a second, and then agrees. When the door opens, her smile turns supernova. “Follow me.”

  We sweep into the gaming area and take the place by storm. Mom’s pretty. She always has been with her dark curly hair and bright-blue eyes. She’s youthful without being babyish, and when she’s at the top of her game, like she is today, she has a sensuality that draws men to her, something I can’t even explain. Confident in her expensive clothes, she works the room, and I do my part by scowling at anyone who gets too close.

  We land at one of a dozen 21 tables, this one full of men, and she sits. I place my hands on the back of her chair and lean close. “I thought we were going to get something to eat?”

  “Later. Now be a good boy and let me win.” She tips her gaze up at me. “You are going to let me win, right?”

  “You’re on your own with that.”

  She frowns in a way that has the men at the table scowling over at me. “Now who’s the fun sucker?”

  I leave and return with a stack of chips and place them at her elbow. Stepping back, I notice two empty shot glasses. With me gone, the men at the table had seized their chance and bought her two more drinks. I stand behind her and keep the onlookers at a safe distance, totally aware of everything Mom is doing. Her laughter is freer; her betting edgy. The risks she takes have me eyeing her.

  The crowd thickens and cameras flash as she plays and talks about the love scene she did with Ryan Gosling on her latest indie film coming out in December. Her multitasking skills are solid as she talks and plays. We’ve been on the floor close to fifteen minutes, but it feels like two.

  She jokes with the other players and when it’s her turn, she playfully taps her finger to her lips as she eyes her chips. The crowd gives her advice until she finally plops down a shamefully large amount of chips. I’m not even sure how much, but I know it’s more than I would have bet, and the crowd cheers.

  Suddenly, she stiffens and sucks in a breath as if she’s in pain. Her hand goes immediately to the amber necklace she’s wearing, and she holds on to it like a life preserver in a storm.

  An older woman behind her asks, “Are you all right, dear?”

  I lean close to her ear. “What’s wrong?”

  Mom takes a cleansing deep breath through her nose. “Nothing.” She smiles at everyone. “I’m fine. Just anxious. I’m slightly ashamed to admit that’s more money than I make in a day of filming.”

  The dealer continues, and Mom wins. The crowd goes crazy. She’s on a roll. Before the next hand is dealt, she again gasps. This time she clutches her side. “Damn it,” she mutters and slants a quick glance my way.

  I’m instantly by her side. “That isn’t nothing. What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. It feels like someone is trying to slice me open.”

  “Wanna walk?”

  She nods and stands. I collect her winnings, and as she makes her way through the crowd, she signs autographs and poses for pictures. One woman glances at the necklace Mom can’t stop fiddling with. “Oh, that’s lovely? Amber, right?”

  Mom caresses the stone. “Yes.”

  The woman squints at it. “Is there something embedded in it?”

  Mom tips the necklace so she can look at it. “Hair, I believe.”

  A huge grin infects the woman. “What’s that called? A fairy lock? I’ve heard stories about those. Brings good fortune, at least it has for you.”

  I was barely paying attention to the conversation until I heard that comment. Fairy lock? No way. It can’t be what we’re looking for.

  A bittersweet smile touches Mom’s lips. “I wouldn’t know about that. I’ve had it forever. It’s not the most sophisticated piece I own, but it was a gift from my mother.” She lets out a stilted laugh. “I’ve tried to get rid of it, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.”

  Another gasp has her stiffening and she grabs my arm. Leaning close, she whispers, “Dylan. I think I need to lie down.”

  I put my arm around her. “Working on it.”

  We push through the crowd. It’s apparent she’s not feeling well and everyone turns a concerned eye on her. We make it out of the gaming area and to our room. I call Leo. He comes into the living room and helps me get her to bed. When we enter her room, we encounter a mess of clothes and other girly items Leo has jostled from her suitcases.

  The accusing glare Mom gives me has the inner child in me ducking. “What’s going on?”

  Leo shoots a glance at me, then back at Mom. “Ummm, nothing much.” He turns to me. “Do something.”

  It’s been my experience that forcing Mom to do anything she doesn’t want to do doesn’t work. But she’s tipsy and I luck out. I touch Mom’s temple and tell her to rest. The next moment she’s sound asleep. I glare at Leo. “I said look for it, not tear through everything.”

  “Yeah, ’cause looking for something that doesn’t exist is easy.”

  “The magic exists.”

  “Not in here. I used that spell and nothing. Not even a little bit of something.”

  I say the spell I taught Leo and Mom moans, her face grows pinched, and her hand instantly goes to the necklace. I ease her hand away and slip the necklace off. It dangles from my fingers and the fading light hits the amber stone, filling the room with a golden glow. “It’s here.”

  “That?” He looks unimpressed. “It’s not much.”

  “It’s with her always, she said so herself, and Grandma gave it to her. Get this. I’m pretty sur
e she embedded Baun’s hair in it.”

  “That’s not disturbing,” he says in a voice that clearly states otherwise.

  “She was a teenager.” I don’t know why I’m making excuses for her now.

  Leo’s smile stretches across his face. “Hey, we’ve got it.” He holds up his hand for a high five and I don’t disappoint him. “That means we can go.”

  I put the necklace in my pocket and look at Mom. “We have it, but we’re not done. I can’t leave Mom here. I promised Grandma I’d bring her back.”

  “Bro.” The surprise mixed with horror that one small word held had me cringing. Leo let out a soft, low whistle. “That is not a good promise. I don’t see her letting you do that.”

  “No kidding.”

  Criminal Minds

  We rush to get the car packed. I still have no idea how I’m going to get Mom to come with us. Leo hauls the last of the bags down to the car and I pace back and forth, racking my brain for an idea. She won’t fall for the illusion again. Kera said once a person knows about the trick, it’s not reliable.

  Out of ideas, the crazy notion I should just leave her back at that rathole I found her in pops into my head. Let her get chewed up by the promises that never materialize and the new influx of men who will use her then treat her like she’s yesterday’s leftovers.

  The thought twists my gut. I look at her bedroom door and sigh. I can’t do that. She’s my mom. She’ll never win any mother-of-the-year awards. In fact, she has no maternal instincts that I’ve ever seen, but she’s all I’ve ever had in this life, and I can’t let her fade into the neon lights and do nothing to stop it.

  Leo slams into the room, a huge grin on his face. “I know how to get her out of here.”

  “How?”

  “Did you know the private elevator goes all the way down to a subterranean parking lot?”

  “I didn’t know you knew what ‘subterranean’ meant.”

  “Bro, don’t get me started on the wonders of the creatures who live underground. They’re fascinating, and we haven’t even begun to realize the potential they pose for medical science.”

  “Fascinating, really dude…” I say, but totally don’t mean it. “So they have a garage under this building?”

  “Sweet, right? I just parked the car outside the elevator. Two steps and we’re in and on our way.”

  I can’t believe our luck. “Why didn’t we know about this earlier?”

  “The regular concierge is on vacation—” He suddenly stops, eyes narrow, head tilts to the side. “Where does a guy from Vegas go to vacay? I mean, this is party city. Anywhere else would seem dull.” He shakes his head and gets back on track. “Anyway, his fill-in didn’t think to inform us of the perk. He said most Woodies want to get their faces out there so he didn’t think the information was relevant.”

  The compression on my chest eases. “Then we’re good to go?”

  “Everything is neat and tidy and waiting for us.”

  We’re ready. But then there’s Mom.

  “She won’t play nice.” It’s a warning he probably already knows, but I feel the need to say it.

  He rubs his shoulder where she lobbed the pineapple at him. “But this time we’re ready for her. Let’s do this.”

  Now that we have the magic, he’s as anxious as I am to leave. I go into her room and shake her shoulder. She slowly blinks and stares up at me. “Dylan?” She rubs at her eyes, smearing her makeup, inadvertently creating the look of a strung-out crackhead. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re leaving.” I swing her legs over the mattress, take her hands in mine, and pull her to her feet. Her footing is wobbly, but she manages to stay upright.

  She puts her hand to her head and winces. “I’ve got a killer headache.”

  “I can help with that.” Leo races to the bar and comes back with two aspirin and a shot of whiskey. I start to protest, but he bumps me out of the way and holds them out to her.

  Mom’s not one to refuse a drink. She downs it along with the pills, and then hands the glass back. Her eyes are bloodshot, tiny slivers of their former selves, as she looks at me. “Where are we going?”

  “Out.” I take her by the upper arm and steer her toward the door.

  Leo runs ahead and has the elevator door open when we leave the room. She’s still half asleep, but she’s slowly waking up. She looks from my hand on her arm to me. “You can let go now.”

  “I don’t think so.” When the doors close, I feel a sense of relief. We’re halfway there.

  “Dylan.” She tries to yank away, but I won’t let her go. She tries to peel my fingers off one at a time and fails. The whine that follows grinds against my eardrums. “Let go. I mean it, Dylan. You and your creepy friend need to leave me alone.”

  Leo looks at me all hurt. “I’m creepy? No one’s ever called me creepy before.”

  “Ignore her. You’re fine. She’s just mad.”

  “Damn right I’m mad.” She kicks out at my shins, but since she’s still in the pretty clothes and delicate sandals I gave her for our gambling excursion, all she does is hurt herself. She doubles over to grab her foot and looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “Look what you’ve done.”

  I ignore her as the doors open to the garage level.

  Leo moves out first to open the car door. I let my guard down for a half a second when I toss the keys to our room on the elevator floor. Mom jerks free. Screaming like her life is in danger, she rushes past the car. I give chase and snatch her up like a wrestler about to body-slam his opponent. I’m tempted to do it, too.

  “Really?” I hiss in her ear as her arms and legs flail like a screaming I’m-your-biggest-fan at a Muse concert. She quickly becomes the biggest pain in my ass ever. It’s not easy, but I manage to toss her into the backseat and slam the door shut. When I look up, I see an older couple hovering near their car. The man is holding a cell phone, staring at us from across the garage.

  Great. Leo’s got the Jeep going. I hop in, slam my hand on the dashboard, and yell, “Go, go, go!”

  He peels out of the garage and onto the main casino drag. Mom tries to open the doors, but they won’t open. I yell at her to stay inside, that she’ll only hurt herself at the speed we’re going, but she doesn’t listen.

  “Relax.” Leo looks at me. “I engaged the child lock feature before she got in.”

  “Cool.” No magic required there.

  I should’ve known she’s not a quitter. The next instant she grabs the back of Leo’s hair and pulls. He swerves to the left, then back to the right, almost colliding with another car. I toss the blanket we took from her ratty motel room over her, and knowing her aversion to the dark, it doesn’t take much time before she panics more from the blanket than trying to escape. When she’s able to toss off the blanket, I snarl, “You’re going to get us all killed if you do that again. Now settle down.”

  “You’re kidnapping me!”

  “I’m taking you home.”

  “I don’t want to go, so that’s kidnapping. Don’t think I won’t fight you the whole way.”

  I would be doing Grandma a favor if I left Mom in the middle of the desert barefoot and with no way out. But I can’t. If I don’t bring Mom home, Grandma will worry, and I’ll do anything to keep that from happening.

  My frustration peaks and I let her have it. “For once in your sad, miserable, self-absorbed life, why don’t you think of someone else? Grandma loves you.” The words explode from my mouth. She presses her back into the seat like she’s trying to disappear into the cushion, but I don’t relent. “I know. It makes no sense, right? But she’s worried sick about you and if I have to drag you back by your hair so she can see you’re alive and well, I will.”

  I turn around, and the car settles into a deep, uncomfortable quiet. Leo’s hands are glued to the steering wheel as he maneuvers through the evening traffic. The sun is going down, but there’s still plenty of light and plenty of Vegas we have to go through before we can claim succ
ess.

  I breathe deeply and try to steady my furiously beating heart. No one pushes all my buttons the way Mom does.

  After a few minutes I look back and see her hunched tightly against the door, her feet tucked close to her body, staring out the window as tears slowly roll down her cheeks. She slants a glance my way and quickly rubs her cheeks dry. I don’t look away like I usually do. I want her to know how disgusted I am with her.

  She opens her mouth to say something, but then snaps it shut. Twice she does that before she finally says in a tiny defeated voice, “You think I never wanted to go home. I did. Every day. But there’s one thing I’ve learned. Once you massively screw up, it’s out there…forever. It hangs over your head for everyone to whisper about… That’s when I knew you can never go back.” She laughs, but it has the edge of hopelessness to it. She pushes her unruly curls away from her face and lets out a ragged sigh. “I’ve messed up so badly, even I don’t want to be around me. And you want me to subject my mother to that? I thought you loved her, because that’s why I’ve stayed away. I love her too much to show her how messed up I truly am.” She looks out the window again and says in a tight whisper, “Forgive me if I don’t thank you for this forced family reunion.”

  I continue to stare at her, but all I see is someone who’s given up, and I don’t like it. My whole life, she fought for everything she got. Not a day went by that she wasn’t working. She poured herself into every job, and sadly, into every man she hoped was “the one” but never was. I kind of hate myself right now. I turn around and shoot a glance at Leo. He shakes his head and keeps driving. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing anymore. The choices I’m making seem right, but maybe they aren’t.

  Traffic thins and we find ourselves out of Las Vegas and in the desert speeding toward the west. The sun blinds me, just as the music we’re listening to drowns my thoughts. It isn’t until Leo pulls into a run-down motel called the Shadow of Death Sun Lodge that I take an interest in anything. “Nice name. I can’t understand why business is so slow.” I push my sarcasm aside and ask seriously, “Why are we stopping?”

 

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