“Do you think I don’t know the two of you kept up this ridiculous love affair behind my back?”
My stomach turned as the memory of her cold glare bored into me again, as though she was still here, standing in front of me, pointing her bony fingers at my face. But no memory could ever have compared to the revulsion I felt on her delivery of such a cruel blow.
“You will end things with that boy, Dorothea. Permanently this time.”
She had the most satisfied look on her taut face as I’d spent the ensuing minutes reeling from the content of the documents she’d placed in front of me.
“This is my last will and testament. Read it carefully. You and Nicky are my only heirs. You will be named my executor, Dorothea, and you’ll be your brother’s guardian, but only if you comply with my wishes. If you dare step out of line between now and then…even once…you’ll get nothing. You’ll be penniless, and more than that, I’ll name a new executor and make sure they end all contact between you and Nicky. I trust you don’t want to be responsible for making your brother a ward of the state.”
She took such pleasure in the numbness on my face as I kept reading.
It wasn’t the idea of being penniless that broke me.
It was the thought of losing Nicky.
And after consulting with several estate lawyers on the matter, I’d realized the truth. The woman had backed me into a corner. She knew that for me, losing Nicky was not an option.
I begged LeVan to wait for me, and I waited for her to die.
Wished for it.
Until she did.
Guilty conscience or not, it was finished. Mother’s control over me ended when her life did. In life, she took every possible step to use her money and her parental rights to control me. Her reign was over.
I didn’t wait a second longer than needed to notify my lawyer, Nicky’s specialist, and various others. The custody hearing took place within a matter of days of Mother’s funeral. After Nicky was placed in my care we packed it all up and left the state.
The lawyers would figure out everything else. Selling that house of horrors, figuring out trusts, and handling money would take place eventually and didn’t need my presence in town to make it happen. I didn’t need the Kent fortune. I’d spent close to half of the last decade making my own way. I devoted much of that time learning everything the academic and medical literature suggested about improving Nicky’s quality of life. What I’d learned was that my brother had some challenges, but he wasn’t helpless. He was slow, but he had the capacity to learn and to have a happy life. Just recently, thanks to Rose, he’d graduated from the life skills program at the group home and had been moved into a halfway house for a more independent living experience.
I was so proud of him. In some ways, even prouder than how I felt after wrapping up my final year of college.
Some people might think it was awful that I enrolled him in a group home program, followed by a halfway house, but once he got out of those independent living training grounds, he could be truly on his own. I wouldn’t have to worry every second that I had to leave him, or when my career required me to travel.
I already had an apartment for him, just one floor down from mine. I’d be with him as much as he needed to make sure he adjusted fine once he was out, but the plan was for him to have more control over his day to day life.
My eyes burned as I thought of how far he’d already come, but I blinked the tears back.
I didn’t have time for them now.
My hands shook and I lowered them to the surface of the sink, gripping the cool marble tightly as I waited for the shakes to pass.
There wasn’t any reason to be nervous, was there?
It was LeVan.
Why should I be nervous?
Maybe because you haven’t seen him in years. Maybe because the last time he called, no, the last ten, twenty times he called, you ignored him and just let it go to voicemail. Then you changed your number. You didn’t answer the emails he sent and you sent your best friend to him with a piece of shit note to ask him to wait for you.
I bit back a laugh that was closer to hysteria than I wanted to acknowledge.
I had reasons for what I’d done.
I knew that.
I had good reasons.
But it didn’t mean it had been easy—not for me, and I knew what I’d done had hurt him.
Part of me wanted to chicken out of what I was getting ready to do.
It was the other part of me that grabbed the phone from the area behind the sink and spun away from the mirror.
If fate was on my side, I’d be talking to him in a…hell, maybe the next thirty minutes for all I knew.
If he texted back and said, I’m on the street, be here in five, I’d run right into his arms.
Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and stared at the door of my condo.
My heart pounded hard inside my chest and I realized my hands were shaking.
That was okay. My knees were, too. My legs themselves were quivering, but I started the walk out the door, still gripping my phone. I wasn’t going to stay in here when I texted him. I was putting my faith to the test as I did this. I was going have faith that he was in the hotel, that he’d get my text, that he’d answer me.
That the two of us could meet and see each other face to face.
I sent the text on my way down the elevator.
Hello, LeVan.
Two hours later, I hadn’t heard from him.
Sitting in one of the numerous restaurants Casino Torrid boasted, I checked my phone, then lifted my nearly empty martini glass to my lips. One thing I had to say—Casino Torrid’s bartenders were some seriously talented people. I’d had three drinks from the first bar I’d gone to, and then I’d found another, feeling restless and out of place, despite the fact that I was far from being the only person there alone, drinking in the middle of the day.
It had nothing to do with my location, the people around me, or anything else, though, and I knew it.
It had to do with the lack of response coming from my phone.
He hadn’t answered.
I knew that was the right number.
I had it memorized even now, after all this time.
But he hadn’t answered.
“Look…” I summoned up my most charming smile and thanked whoever it was who’d decided it was a good idea to stock personal hygiene items in the stores of luxury hotels everywhere. I’d brushed my teeth, gargled, rinsed and nobody could possibly smell the evidence of four drinks on my breath. Not that I was drunk.
I’d grown up in Louisiana, for crying out loud.
Laissez les bon temps rouler! Let the good times roll and all that jazz. Not that I’d been a big party girl, but I’d had my share of Mardi Gras and then some.
It would take more than a couple of cocktails to knock me off kilter, even if it was in the middle of the day.
But that didn’t mean I needed to breathe Cosmo-fumes all over the person I was trying to butter up.
The concierge smiled at me patiently.
“I know this has to be an insane request and I’m sure you get this all the time with those guys in residence here, but I need to get a message to LeVan Vanderbilt.”
The concierge dipped his head. “I’d be happy to take a missive. I cannot guarantee when he will receive it, of course."
Damn it. At least he was willing to take it.
Flashing him another dimpled smile, I said, “It’s pretty important. You…hell, I know you’ve heard this line. But we grew up together in St. Gabriel.”
He gave me another patient smile. “Maybe you could give me your name?”
My name would end up in file thirteen, I already knew it.
“Absolutely.”
27
Thea
It had been eight days since I’d sent that text, eight days since I’d left a message with only my name and a number at the concierge’s desk.
Eight days.
<
br /> I hadn’t heard from LeVan.
I would’ve cried just thinking about it, but I’d done that already, and more than once.
I didn’t have time for tears now.
Nicky was finally getting his promised show and he’d crowed in delight when he realized I was taking him to see the Magic Man he so loved.
Maybe I wouldn’t see LeVan face-to-face tonight—that so wasn’t going to happen, not when we were going to be lost in a crowd of almost a thousand, but at least I’d see him.
And tomorrow, I was going to figure out how to go about actually tracking him down since the normal methods hadn’t worked.
There was a knock at the door and I drew in a deep breath. One of the LCs—life counselors—at the center had suggested she bring Nicky to my place instead of me picking him up. “Learning to use public transportation is important and in a city like Las Vegas, it’s even more so. The sooner he starts to learn his way, the better.”
It would be Nicky at the door, Nicky, with his LC who’d shown him how to use the bus. He would be excited—using the bus from the center and then going to a magic show, all in one day.
I managed a weak smile at my reflection, wondering if I’d ever been excited about using public transportation, then decided I was getting too jaded. I’d already had a car by the time when using buses would be an option—private schools didn’t offer their students school bus transportation. By the time I’d switched to public school, I’d been driving.
I’d occasionally take the bus on campus, but a college student wasn’t going to get excited about that.
But Nicky could be excited.
There was an entire world of things out there that he could be excited over—things that I probably would’ve been excited over when I’d been younger if I’d had the chance to experience them. So he could experience them for both of us and I’d live through him.
“Thea, hi!” He threw his arms around me the moment I opened the door and I laughed at the greeting, glad for the distraction.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about LeVan hardly at all, and it was showing. The work I’d produced had been crap and it had all gone to the same file my name and phone number had likely gone—file thirteen.
“You look like you had a good day,” I said, squeezing him in return before drawing back and meeting the warm brown gaze of the LC who’d accompanied him on the bus. “Beth, how are you?”
“I’m good. I hear you two are going to see the Knights of Las Vegas tonight,” she said, grinning at me. “Which one are you seeing?”
“We’re not going to see any knights,” Nicky countered. “We’re going to see LeVan. We know him.”
“LeVan…” Her eyes widened. “You know him, huh?”
My cheeks flushed. “We…ah…we grew up together.”
“Wow! That is so cool! He’s the one with the dreadlocks, right?” She fanned herself. “Man, all of them are just so…” She glanced at Nicky, then at me, rolling her eyes.
“They’re really good,” Nicky offered helpfully. “I’ve seen the others on TV, but LeVan is the best. He pulls cards from your ear and he can read minds.”
“Is that so?” Beth beamed at him. “It sounds like you’ve got quite the night ahead of you. Are you going backstage?”
His eyes rounded. “Are we, Thea? Can we?”
“No, Nicky,” I said gently. “They don’t sell tickets for that. But we’ll be able to see LeVan soon. I just have to get in touch with him.”
Beth made her goodbyes and Nicky changed into the clothes he’d picked out last night for the show. He’d told me he wanted to look nice because he knew I’d look nice.
By the time he was done and we were out the door, I knew we had just enough time to enjoy our walk and for me to maybe have a drink before we found our seats at the extravagant theatre in the hotel just across the street.
Soon, I told myself.
Soon. It wasn’t going to be the same as touching him, seeing him face to face…but hey, maybe fate would smile on us.
28
The Present
LeVan
The blonde who’d crossed below in the atrium almost made my heart stop.
For a minute, just a minute, I’d thought maybe…
But then she’d hooked her arm through that of the man next to her and urged him to the counter.
Not Thea.
It had to be another woman, I’d forced myself to accept. Probably here on a date. Probably a tourist. There were always a few locals in the audience, but for the most part, tourists were the majority.
That was good, because tourists were always easier marks than someone who lived in Vegas. This was a land of glitz and glamour, facades and lies, and if you lived here long enough, you figured that out.
After another lingering look down the four floors that separated us, I turned and leaned against the railing, facing Mac and Sly. “You boys want to meet up, play cards after the show?”
“Shit.” Sly smoothed a hand back over his bright red, wavy hair. “I want to find some random chick and get laid. Just like what I did yesterday and the day before. What makes you think I’d hang out with you two sons of bitches?”
“Mostly, the fact that you pretty much always want to get together after a big show?”
That came from Mac, his subtle smile barely changing his tanned face. His green eyes didn’t reflect much of his amusement, but at least he wasn’t hiding behind the shades of his sunglasses tonight. He often did. He often put those shades on and didn’t emerge from behind them for days. For all I knew he slept, ate, and showered in the damn things.
All so he didn’t have to see a face that reminded him of a monster he hated.
We all had our own demons or our own ghosts. The thought had me glancing back down to the atrium, looking for the blonde.
But she was already gone. Lost to me. What did it matter? It wasn’t Thea. Couldn’t be.
“I still can’t believe you went and cut off those dreads, dude,” Sly said, unaware or not caring about how distracted I was.
Reaching up, I ran my fingers across the back of my neck, bare for the first time since I’d been a boy. I’d started growing my hair when I was nine or ten, had been in dreads by the time I was fifteen. Not having that heavy weight resting against my neck and shoulders felt like something was missing.
“What made you decide to get rid of it?” Mac asked, curiosity in his eyes.
“I needed a change, that’s all.”
And because one morning, I’d woken up hard as granite at the image of Thea’s hands gripping my hair as she rode me.
Maybe it was time to make all sorts of changes.
But cutting those ties to the past was going to take a lot more than cutting off some hair.
“Wow. I mean, Devin X…Sly Strange and LeVan.”
I hadn’t bothered with an extra moniker. I hadn’t seen the point.
Judging by the rapt look on the face of the young man in front of us, I could tell he didn’t care.
I shook his hand and nodded at the manager who’d accompanied him to the large studio area where Sly, Devin, and I always sat and shared a drink before the show.
We also made it a habit to speak to our opening act and tonight, that was this kid.
Man, he looked young.
His name was David Eagle.
It was a nice name, I thought. Could even be his real name.
“Oh! Wait…honey!”
The starry-eyed David winced, some of the stars leaving his eyes as he blinked at the sound of that voice. “Shoot, I mean…shit.”
The attempt to cover a polite shoot had me smothering a grin as he looked back at the door. “That’s um…it’s my fiancée. I told her I’d ask if she could come back, but I told her to wait by my room. I’m so sorry—”
“Won’t be your fiancée long if you do things like that,” Mac advised, lifting his highball glass. “She’s welcome to join you as your guest.”
There was an emph
asis on your guest, but David didn’t pick up on it.
I knew that.
Devin knew that.
Sly knew that.
And even though she hadn’t heard it, David’s fiancée Clara knew it, too.
She lingered over the handshakes, smiled and leaned in to show off her cleavage while next to her, totally unaware, the sweet kid who was her fiancé was excitedly telling our stage manager about the piece he’d put together that had landed him the chance to make the Las Vegas circuit.
He was, like so many other new acts, the winner of some sort of reality TV show.
But unlike some of them, part of his appeal was just him. I hadn’t had to watch his act to get that.
He was a downhome boy, like Mac and me, complete with the Southern drawl. He had an aww shucks manner that I’d never had.
It was charming as hell.
It was also real. The kid was naïve.
I figured that out pretty damn fast when his fiancée finally sidled over to me and hooked her arm through mine. “You know…Davey tells me that you’re absolutely his idol. He’s from Louisiana too, ya know.”
She pronounced it just a little heavy on the drawl for someone who wasn’t from the South. Loosy-anna.
But I smiled and nodded. “That’s the truth, ma’am.” Disengaging my arm from hers, I moved over to my partners and lifted my glass. “It’s about time, gentlemen.”
That wasn’t the way we usually wrapped things up before a show, but they’d picked up on the same thing I had.
None of us wanted to let her try to bait us on a hook while her fiancé stood there unaware.
Micky, our stage manager, smooth as always, came rushing forward.
“Well…it’s time for all of us to get moving then. David, if you would…and Miss…?”
A few minutes later, we were alone.
Alone.
That word resounded oddly alone in my mind but I knew why.
“You’re the magic man.”
Something about the way the kid blinked at me and watched me with wide, focused eyes had my nerves twitching.
Risk Me (Vegas Knights Book 2) Page 15
