The man was walking back to the front desk, overpriced purse in hand.
I walked up to the door like I was supposed to be going through it, punched in the code, and slipped inside.
Half of it was a dimly lit storeroom for things like printer paper, ink, and other front-desk office supplies, and half was filled with shelves of everything from shoes to luggage, to clothes, jewelry, and phones.
I spotted a suitcase that had a luggage tag from a Dallas to Las Vegas flight that was dated a year prior. The layer of dust on top confirmed the theory that it hadn’t been touched since. I stashed my full backpack behind the suitcase, then slipped out with Jude’s mostly empty one on my shoulder.
Back to the casino.
For the time being, I had to push Jude out of my mind. I had hidden the bag with the cash and the majority of the chips in the safest place I could think of, in a place I could come back for it. The chips I kept on hand would be enough to bet big to win the rest of the money I needed to buy Joel’s freedom. If I got caught, the rest of the cash I had won wouldn’t be found on my person.
I headed back in the direction of the casino, but the moment I saw the signs and heard the cheers, my stomach launched into my throat. Panic snaked around my throat as I peeled off and dipped into the bathroom.
A cluster of drunk ladies were preening in front of the full-length mirrors and showering each other with compliments.
I could use a drunk bathroom compliment right about now, but I don’t have time to make friends.
My eyes stung as I shoved my way into a stall and latched the door behind me just as the first tears slipped free.
I didn’t have time to cry. I had to get back out there. I reached for the toilet paper and pulled off a square to dab my eyes, but the tears never stopped.
Jude needed me. Joel needed me. People were counting on me.I didn’t have time for this.
More tears. Sharp, gasping breaths. The world spun.
I grabbed more toilet paper to soak up the tears. I was probably ruining the lovely makeup that had been meticulously applied to my face at the blowout bar. I needed to stop crying.I didn’t have time to cry.
I could cry later. The realization that I had been telling myself that exact thing for years was a reckoning.
I sucked in air until my lungs ached from the fullness, then let it out in a single gust. Twice more, then I forced myself out of the bathroom and back to the casino.
My seat was still empty when I returned to the blackjack table, looking a little worse for the wear.
“Cold feet?” the charming dealer asked as I settled back in.
I forced a smile. “Something like that.”
He shot a wink my way. “Let’s see if you can keep getting lucky.”
My hands shook as the cards were dealt. The count was fuzzy.
Shit.
I watched as the dealer flipped over a ten and clicked his tongue as I lost five hundred dollars.
He will find me. It’s part of the plan.
I closed my eyes, let out a slow breath, and started again.
The next hand went by in a blur, but I came out on top. Meagerly, but still on top.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Before I blinked, I was up twenty grand. That was my cash-out point. I needed to quit while I was ahead. The count was starting to get blurry as cards were quickly dealt around the table.
