Chapter 3
THREE
Lumpy butt squeeze
LILA
With each passing day, I relate to roosters more. For I, too, have considered screaming at the top of my lungs when I awaken.
I flop onto a chair in the break room and immediately put my head down on the table. With a forced exhale, I let my lips flap and flutter in a raspberry. It’s either that or scream, and something tells me that’ll draw more attention my way. And I need to stay under the radar as much as possible.
More than a flipping month of this crud. And no sign of it coming to an end.
I’ve been played, and now I’m in too deep to get out.
Silas doesn’t even bother promising me Kenzie’s safe return anymore. In fact, every time I bring her up, I’m told she’s alive.
For now.
Then they remind me that I’m a party to their crime and how they have captured enough evidence against me that I’d go down with them.
So I’m totally bleeping screwed in the worst bleeping way.
Silas and his thugs have easily made off with at least half a million dollars over the last month.
It could be double that if they’re playing after my shifts end, which is entirely possible and highly likely.
The cards I mark at the start of each shift remain at the table until the deck is swapped out, which could be hours after my shift ends.
And they’ve got a whole freaking rotation of people blowing through to reduce the suspicion of one lucky player beating the house every night. I’ve identified ten different players. I bet there’s more.
Yet if I turn them in, I’ll be hauled off in cuffs right along with them.
By now, the casino must know something is up with blackjack winnings, which means my days of freedom are numbered.
The pit boss has eyes on me, and I can virtually feel security hovering.
Even when I can’t see them, I know they’re there.
There’s no way they aren’t reviewing the video footage from my overhead camera in super-slow motion with the zoom maxed out.
I’ll be fired or arrested any day now. Probably both.
And then what will happen to Kenzie? She’s innocent too.
Silas knows I want off this hamster wheel. I told him this morning that if I didn’t get her back tonight, I was going to the cops. That’s why he sent his goon to stare me down all night. His little way of reminding me that I’m under their control.
As if I didn’t know that already. I might as well get a butt tattoo that says: Property of Silas the Snake.
Although my terse words to Silas were a bluff, I hope he believes me and returns Kenzie tonight. If he doesn’t? I’ll find another way to break free and save her. I cannot go on like this.
Despite my empty belly, I don’t bother eating. Fortunately, I no longer need appetite suppressants. Just thinking of my life does the trick. Hunger? What hunger?
Who knew that after years of failed attempts at losing weight, all I needed to do was become a criminal? I should start a blog. Follow me for more weight loss tips.
You don’t need food when you’re living a nightmare. After all, nobody eats in dreams, right?
Eh. Who am I kidding? I once had a dream of an all-you-can-eat cheese buffet. The restaurant was appropriately named Fromage Frenzy. I recall feeling proud of my subconscious for the alliteration when I woke that morning.
Memories of the queso fountain are yanked away by a booming voice. “Lila, I need to see you.”
My head jerks off the table. My manager stands in the break room doorway with an expectant look chiseled into his strong features. A quick glance at the clock tells me I’ve still got twenty minutes of my lunch hour left. So he’s not here to scold me for taking too long a break.
Which only means . . . they’ve come to take me away.
“Oh, Mr. Votaw. Um. Yeah. Sure.” I mutter, nodding frantically as I rise, which I’m sure is coming off as totally nonchalant. “Here?”
“In my office,” he tacks on, then stomps down the hallway.
I wonder how I’ll look in an orange jumpsuit. Or do they have the old black-and-white stripes? I saw something online about those making a comeback. I’ll likely find out soon. Hope they come in size eighteen. They must. I’m not the only woman in town who’s not slim but kind of shady.
On shaky legs, I trail behind him.
Should I just confess as soon as I get into his office? Explain what happened and beg him to help me save Kenzie? Or should I march straight past his office door and flee the scene?
Sadly, I don’t have my purse or car keys on me. So that idea’s out.
I tilt my head back and mentally recite my mantra, hoping to find the light of positivity to keep me from crumbling into the darkness.
You’re doing the best you can, Lila. You’ll find a way out. Kenzie will be safe, and you’ll both be free.
The words are hollow after weeks of repeating them to no avail.
It’s official. I’m a manifestation failure.
Mr. Votaw waits at his office doorway for me to catch up. His blank expression gives nothing away. I flash a beaming smile, channeling the sunshine I used to radiate just a few weeks ago. Before every ray of light inside me was snuffed.
For the second time in my life.
“Sorry to interrupt your lunch break,” he says when I’m a foot away.
I wave him off, still cloaked in my typical cheeriness. “Oh, that’s not a problem.”
He opens his palm, directing me toward the small table in the corner of his office. “Take a seat, and we’ll try to get through this as quickly as possible.”
“Sure thing.”
My eyes scan the room, catching on two imposing figures. One of whom is painfully familiar.
Oh, shitake mushrooms. I’m so screwed.
I might need to bust out the mental cuss words for this. For once, it would be nice if my life spiraled into control. Just once.
Locking eyes with the duplicitous devil in the corner, I stop short of the table by a solid five feet. Mr. Votaw clearly didn’t expect me to freeze midstep. So he plows into me from behind, sending me toppling onto the carpeted floor.
“Ah!” he exclaims, sounding pained.
My knees and palms take the initial brunt of the fall as I end in a starfish pose.
Then it gets worse. Suddenly, I’m not the only one on the floor.
“Eep!” I yelp, high-pitched and squeaky, before all the air explodes from my lungs with the force of Mr. Votaw landing on top of me.
I’m flattened like a pancake.
Although I’m a big gal, I’m tiny compared to the panini press of a man on top of me. Mr. Votaw is a gargantuan man. As tall and wide as a linebacker.
And he’s crushing the life out of me.
“Argh,” I groan as I struggle for breath, rapidly losing the will to live.
Why am I bothering to breathe? At this point, I should let nature run its course. Honestly, I’d rather die this way than have to face Satan in the corner. Not to mention the whole multiple felonies thing.
And the last I heard, he finally got his dream job at the FBI, which doesn’t bode well for my chances of leaving here without cuffs on my wrists. Of all the law enforcement officers in the world to arrest me, it’s him.
Figures.
“Sorry, Lila,” my boss sputters while his hands search for a safe place to land.
And right there on the floor, in front of Reed mother-forking Hayes, I’m accidentally groped by my boss. Given my size, it’s understandable that he’d have a hard time steering clear of my mountainous butt cheeks. It’d be like trying to dodge raindrops in a monsoon.
“Sorry again,” Mr. Votaw adds, his voice belaying his physical struggle. And he’s definitely having a hard time of it.
Have you ever tried to get off an old, lumpy couch when it’s too low to the ground and lacks any form of support? That’s probably what it’s like for my boss right now. Poor guy.
The butt squeeze was inevitable.
Once he’s removed himself from my person, I lie there for a few extra seconds. Not due to injury. But because I want the floor to swallow me up. I’m hoping that if I stay here long enough, it’ll happen.
Nope. No such luck. That tracks with my current stage of life.
“Are you okay, Ms. Kent?”
Although I can’t see him from down here, where I’m buried in shame and fear, I know it’s not Reed or Mr. Votaw asking. Pretty sure the third man in here was the head of security, which is just terrific.
Without lifting my head, I answer, “Yeah. Fine. Just need a second to recover from the embarrassment.”
Reed laughs at that. I’d recognize that cocky, irritating sound anywhere. Even after all these years.
I don’t even need to look at him to know he’s laughing at me and not with me. I’d have expected nothing else from him.
Is he here because he finally noticed his sister has been missing for five weeks? Not that he cares. Jerk.
If he wanted to ask me about her disappearance, he certainly didn’t need to haul me into my boss’s office. A phone call would have sufficed.
Not that I’d have answered, which is probably why he’s doing it here. As an added perk for him, I’ll suffer mortification in front of my employer.
Then again, he’s more likely here about the crimes I’ve been committing.
Mustering what’s left of my courage, I shove up to my knees. Mr. Votaw gives me an assist from there. When I get to my feet, his cheeks are as ruddy as mine feel. Excellent.
I can’t meet his eyes. “Thank you. Sorry for stopping suddenly. I thought I saw a rat.”
But it was just Reed—same thing.
Once I’m seated, I force myself to sweep my gaze around the room, pointedly making friendly eye contact with everyone except Reed. When I get to him, my smile fades naturally.
And to think I used to have a crush on him. Younger me was such a fool.
Older me? Not faring much better since yet another lover has hoodwinked me. This time, my heart isn’t the only victim. Poor Kenzie.
However, I will fix this.
Somehow.
Assuming I don’t end up in jail by the end of the night.
Reed stands in the corner with his arms crossed at his chest. The other man slowly lowers to the seat across the table.
My boss clears his throat. “Lila, have you met Steve?” He gestures to the older man who is eying me with suspicion tugging down his facial features. “He’s the head of casino security.”
I nod at the man and force my smile to widen. “Mr. Hanley, right?”
He dips his chin at me, then tips his head toward the soggy potato in the corner. “This is special agent Reed Hayes. He’s with the FBI. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
I guess he didn’t tell them he knows me.
Gasp. Reed Hayes being shady? Who’da thunk it?
Shaking off my inner musings, I attempt to act normal. “The FBI, huh? Wow. Sounds serious. I hope I can help.”
Mr. Hanley flips open a manila envelope and slides a picture across the polished mahogany table to me. “Do you recognize this man?”
Gulp.
I pick up the photo, buying myself some time.
Do I answer honestly? Play dumb?
I’m not a liar. I won’t be able to pull it off. And if I try, I’ll bury myself in an even deeper hole.
After setting it back down on the table, I answer truthfully. “That’s my ex-boyfriend. His name is Silas Everson.”
Mr. Hanley sends another photo my way. “And do you know who Silas is talking to in this picture?”
Biting my tongue, I barely quash the urge to blurt out something comically random. It’s this thing I do when I don’t want to answer a question. You’d be surprised how easy it is to distract someone when you unexpectedly ask them if they’ve seen your pickle.
Instead of resorting to cheap tricks, I crick my head to the side, studying the photo. “Nope.”
Honest. But barely.
“Really?” Reed chimes in doubtfully. “You sure about that?”
I blink at him thrice, fighting an unnatural snarl. “Yes. I’m sure. I’ve never met him.”
Look at me. Spittin’ facts upon facts.
Mr. Hanley slides the photo an inch closer. “Why don’t you look again?”
They don’t believe me.
I need to give them something without linking myself to a man who is obviously a criminal.
One who’s caught the FBI’s attention. My ex-boyfriend speaking to him in view of a casino camera is already a glaring connecting point.
And since they’re passing something between them, that rules out the odds of their interaction being that of strangers striking up a conversation.
Squinting my eyes at the photo, I lean closer. “Come to think of it, I might have seen him before.” I pause to swallow around an ever-increasing lump in my throat. “It’s possible he’s the man who was hanging around my table tonight before my first break. But as I said, I do not know him.”
“Any idea why he would be lurking around your table?” Mr. Hanley asks, one bushy brow arching higher.
My lower lip finds its way between my teeth. “I assumed he was just a creep.”
So far, no lies. That’s my legit assumption.
My lip nibbling becomes painful, so I stop and switch to under-the-table hand wringing.
The men all trade glances as the silence in here smothers me. It’s a wet blanket of accusation.
I bring my hands above the table, fanning them open.
“I’m sorry. What’s this about? Did something happen?
I promise you I don’t know his name. I’ve never exchanged words with him.
Today was the first time I’ve ever laid eyes on him, and that was from a solid fifteen feet away.
I honestly don’t know what you want from me. ”
Mr. Votaw stands suddenly. “That’ll be all, Lila. Thank you for your time. You can head back to work now.”
Without hesitating, I shove back from the table, grateful for the escape opportunity. I smile at two of them, then turn on my heel silently.
“Hold up one sec.”
Shut up, Reed. Just shut your damn mouth.
Yes, his damn mouth.
If there ever was a man worth breaking my cursing rule for, it’s him.
It takes effort, but I keep my shoulders from sagging and slowly turn toward them.
Reed arches a brow at me. Even his eyebrow is cocky and irritating. “Ms. Kent, would you be willing to speak with Silas about him for us? Perhaps wearing a wire?”
Involuntarily, my spine stiffens. “I’d strongly prefer to never speak to Silas again.”
Facts.
Reed cuts a scathing look at me and then points his chin toward the door. He’s dismissing me. Such a pompous jerk. He’s the human equivalent of a cheap underwire bra.
Boy, the downshift from what I thought was love to what I know is hate was swift and final.
Turning my other lumpy sofa cushion butt cheek, I ignore the brush off. It isn’t the first time I’ve had to do that with him.
“Well, gentlemen, you know where to find me if you have more questions. Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”
Oops. That was a lie. I’m not sorry about it, though. Not at all.