“Thanks,” Charlotte says.
“I would love to stay, but I have matters I must tend to in Mexico.” My eyes lock on Evie.
“When are you leaving?” Louie asks.
“Now. I’ll be back, though. I have a new fondness for the city,” I reply. Then I turn and walk out of the room, leaving my fucking soul behind.
“Emmanuel.” Evie’s voice stops me as I reach the end of the ward. I pivot to face her, tucking my hands in my pockets. I want to reach out and touch her, pull her into me. I also want her to come to me.
“You’re really leaving?”
“Something’s come up. I have to go and sort it out,” I explain.
“What… Okay. Well, bye, I guess.”
“Fuck it.” I close the two-step distance between us and wrap my arms around her. My lips press to the center of her forehead. “I’ll be back. If you need anything, call me. I’ve had your bags returned to the Royal for you.”
“Thank you,” she says. “But how do you know I’m not going to run and hide the moment you leave?”
“Because your friend is going to need you tohang around for a bit. And there isn’t a damn place you could hide that I wouldn’t find you, mi alma,” I tell her, because I would scour the ends of the earth for her.
“Thanks. Safe flight, or not. If the plane does crash, though, ensure it’s big enough to make the news so I find out.” She smiles.
“If that happens, I’ll be certain to put out a broadcast just for you.” Kissing Evie’s lips one more time, I smile when she doesn’t pull away and then I force myself to step back.
“Emmanuel, is it safe here? Is someone still going to come after Charlotte?”
“You’re safe here. I have people everywhere, mi alma, and they’ve all been instructed that your safety is their number one priority. Nothing will happen to you.”
“And Charlotte?” she presses.
“And Charlotte.” I nod, even though I have no intention of putting her friend’s safety above hers.
Chapter Thirteen
Vegas at three a.m. is very different from the Vegas a few hours prior. Don’t get me wrong. There are still people hanging around, the noise of the slot machines continues to slowly grate on your nerves, and the smell of alcohol, weed, and cigarette smoke lingers everywhere.
I think this is Vegas at its seediest. Hookers are out on the prowl, hoping to get their last client of the night. There’re people passed out drunk or justasleep in the most random places. And every man I walk past gives me the damn creeps. I don’t know why I came down to the casino floor. I couldn’t sleep and got bored.
I didn’t want to wake up Rachel, who is sharing the suite with me. And Charlotte got out of the hospital a couple of days ago, not that I could disturb her without her husband shooting me first. Which is how I ended up here. Walking aimlessly. I find an empty sofa and sit down. The moment I do, a waitress comes over.
“Ma’am. Do you need anything?” she asks.
“No, thank you. I’m good.” I smile and watch as she walks away. I know I’m supposed to order a drink or something to use these lounges, but it’s not like there’re a lot of people waiting for one to become available.
My phone buzzes with a text message. I roll my eyes, tempted to ignore it. But if I do that, he’ll end up calling or sending one of his henchmen to find me. Emmanuel is persistent as hell.
Cabrón:
What are you doing walking around by yourself?
I look up and search the room for him. He’s nothere. I know that. He’s in Mexico. But he has people everywhere—his words.
Me:
Stop creeping on me.
Cabrón:
