He winks and waves me through. “You better.”
The familiar interaction slows my pulse a bit. Bless him for the distraction. Gus is the only person in my life who enjoys hearing about my birding adventures.
Unfortunately, my relief is short-lived since his question reminds me I forgot to feed the neighborhood peacocks. I’ll just layer thefailing-bird-momguilt on top of all the other treacherous emotions rioting through me.
Get a grip, Lila.
Channeling my inner tough chick, I brush away those thoughts and visualize tonight going off without a hitch.
Manifest. Manifest.
Then manifest some more.
The sooner I get through this shift, the sooner I’ll get Kenzie back. Then this will all be a horrible, distant memory. If I keep thinking about her as their captive, I’ll never be able to focus enough to mark the cards.
After changing into my dealer black and whites in the locker room, I check the mirror and attach my name tag. Surprisingly, my hands aren’t shaking anymore.
Excellent. My positive focus is doing precisely what I need it to do. Everything’s going to be fine. Piece of cake.
I chuck my bag into my locker and start to close the door, but I catch it right before it clicks shut. My fingers swipe across my phone screen one last time.
I’m not looking for messages from Silas. I certainly don’t need a refresher of his veiled threats and secretly coded instructions. We’ve gone over the plan ad nauseam during the last week since they took my best friend. I knowexactlywhat’s required of me.
Instead, I open my photo library. First, I pull up one of my favorites—it’s Kenzie and me, slightly tipsy and beaming brightly during the surprise party I threw for her thirtieth birthday last year. A weary smile plays at my lips at the memory. Next, I swipe to a different photo of her. One that makes my veins congeal into a thick sludge of hopelessness.
Bloody lip. Black eye. Messy hair. Tear-soaked face.
How could they hurt an innocent woman like this?
Disgusting monsters.
If I ever figure a way out of this mess, at least I’ll have this photo as some sort of evidence to back up my story.
Silas and his cronies have been meticulous about not letting me have any proof that could implicate them. This blurry image is all I have. And I have it because the dirty-dimple-having weasel made a tiny error on the night I found him waiting in my living room.
The small picture of a battered Kenzie sat on my coffee table, proof of how serious they were. He turned his back on me to take a phone call, leaving the Polaroid in front of me. In a moment of either stupidity or brilliance, I opened the camera app on my phone and stealthily snapped this picture. When he left that evening, he took the Polaroid with him. All he left me were theserings, an earful of instructions, and a host of threats haunt my dreams every night.
I stare at the picture for a long few seconds, feeling my gut sink lower with each breath. It’s only the fiftieth time I’ve looked at her face today. Give or take a dozen.
Am I torturing myself or using it as motivation? Maybe a bit of both.
After swallowing around a jagged lump in my throat, I throw my phone in my bag and close my locker. No more time to waste. It’s felony o’clock.
The shift briefing is the standard fare. Nothing special happening in the casino tonight, which is fortunate. I do my best not to wince when my supervisor gives his customary reminders about what to look for to catch the cheaters. Tonight, I’d only need to glance in the mirror to catch a thief.
Willingthief or not, the prison time is the same.
My steps are heavy as I weave through the hallway. I swipe a road map off the counter to get my table assignment and break schedule.Oh bugger. Looks like I’ll be at one blackjack table for my entire shift since I’m not the relief dealer.
A blade of disappointment jabs me in the gut. If I were floating from table to table tonight, I’d have had a built-in excuse to delay this nightmare by another day. After all, Silas’ crew couldn’t expect me to mark the cards if I were only at a table for twenty minutes at a time.
Alas, I don’t have that excuse. Pity.
After tonight, I’ll be a criminal.
The only silver lining I can cling to is that my table assignment puts me another step closer to getting Kenzie back.
A soft voice shakes me from my doom spiraling. “You’re quiet today. You okay?”
