Chapter 13 #2
With Otis distracted in the living room, I invite her to pull up a chair at the table. I sit opposite her like we’re beginning a meeting.
“Otis’s father.”
Two words. That’s all it takes for the penny to drop.
“You slept with him again?”
“When Carter Trescott left my apartment with not even the courtesy to say goodbye, I knew he wasn’t worth it.”
“What changed?”
“I impersonated a mutant animal on the stage of a sex auction in front of hundreds of criminal men.”
Sadie blinks, trying to make sense of a sentence that probably sounds more gibberish than gibberish. “I’m confused.”
“You know when I asked you to look after Otis that night?”
“The first night?”
“I wasn’t stripping. I attended an underground auction in exchange for some cash.
As soon as I realized what I was getting myself into, it was too late.
I started acting batshit crazy hoping that nobody would bid on me, and then Conrad O’Neill, the shady organizer, bid thousands.
That’s when I saw an even bigger number sail up into the air. And guess who’s holding the card?”
“Otis’s father.” Sadie grimaces. “But hold up, can we backtrack to the part where you said that the Carter Trescott is your baby daddy?”
“Hot CEO of the year, I know, but that’s not important.”
“He attended an auction like that? You need to report him. Report all of them.”
“I wish it was as simple as that.” I rub my temple, attempting to massage away my headache.
“Anyway, I go back to Carter and his friends’ clubhouse because he had a career change and rebranded to become an outlaw biker.
One thing led to another and I end up sleeping with all three.
And that’s not even the worst of it. Carter Trescott has suddenly grown a heart and apparently cares about my life. ”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Uh, no. Negative. It makes things complicated. He was supposed to be the asshole that Otis would be better off without.”
Sadie raises an eyebrow, a smile crawling onto her face.
“I wish it all ended there, but things got real serious last night when Conrad O’Neill gave the bikers an ultimatum. He wants them to hand me over.”
“Are they gonna do that?”
I shake my head. “That means there’s probably gonna be a war. After seeing how much of an influence the O’Neills have in the underbelly of Vegas, it sounds to me like the battle could be a big one.”
The smile vanishes from Sadie’s face. But instead of mirroring my fear, she digresses. “You love him.”
The fact that she’s not even saying it as a question makes it worse.
“What? No! Carter can suck ass. I do not love a man who has more of a relationship with his appearance than he does with other people.”
“But people can change, Carmen. You even said it yourself.”
“People change, but genetic codes don’t. Carter Trescott has been wired by his evil ancestors to be the bane of my existence. I had sex with him and his friends, that’s all. It’s not serious.”
“He’s Otis’s father.”
“He’s not Otis’s father, because Otis doesn’t have a father. It’s only ever been the two of us.”
Sadie stares at me like she’s seeing right through me. For a twenty-one-year-old, she’s ahead of her years. When I was her age, I was drunk more than I was sober. It’s endearing to see that the young adults of today have their heads screwed on properly.
“It sounds like you’re in danger,” she says.
“I know. Hence why I’m back.”
“You want to protect the bikers,” Sadie says, making another one of her brutally honest observations. “You don’t want them to get involved in violence.”
“I don’t want them to lose their lives.”
“Because that would make you sad.”
In all honesty, it would probably make the world a better place. These men kill for a living and have very little mercy. They’d be better off dead.
For the world maybe.
But not so much for me.
I let out a groan, faced with a predicament I didn’t see coming.
Carter fulfilled his role three years ago when he kindly shared his genetics and gave me a beautiful baby boy. That was supposed to be the end of it.
I have the chance to cut ties again, for real this time, but…
One, I might need them to help save my life.
Two, I’m not sexually fulfilled yet.
They make me feel insatiable.
And that is a very dangerous emotion to feel when you have a child to put first.
“So, what’s the verdict?” Sadie asks. “You became rich overnight, and now your life is on the line?”
“Something like that, yeah.” I comb a hand through my hair, trying to untangle the hundreds of knots. “My plan was to leave.”
“Leave and go where?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t think ahead that far. But as soon as I got my hands on the money, I wanted Otis and I to start fresh in a new state, away from Vegas. The older I get, the more I come to realize that this city and its suburbs are no place for a child.”
Vegas breeds destruction. I’ve seen firsthand what this city does to people, its ability to get into a person’s mind and slowly rot it, one vodka shot and hookup at a time.
But now I don’t want to pack a suitcase and fly out of here. It’s the sensible thing to do, but I don’t want to do it.
Because I’m becoming an addict like my own fucking mother, choosing men over my own child.
I nibble on my lip. If I don’t move out of here, things aren’t going to improve. Breaking the cycle is hard, but it’s my duty.
I watch Otis mindlessly play with his action figures, his soft lips pouted in concentration. To him, the violence is just a game. He knocks the figures over, playing God.
It’s a good position to be in. It must be fun having fate in your hands, getting to choose who wins and who loses.
But unfortunately, that isn’t real life.
Not in Vegas, anyway.
I’ve yet to see anyone win in this city and stay winning. Even Carter Trescott doesn’t have it all. If he did, he definitely wouldn’t have sold his company and joined an outlaw crime gang.
“I need to get out of here before I can’t,” I say.
“What about Otis’s father?”
“Carter doesn’t know he has a son, and I want it to stay that way.”
“Doesn’t he deserve to know?”
“No. It’s going to complicate things. Otis and I need to get out of here as soon as possible. Our lives are on the line.”
“You said the bikers were willing to go to war for you.”
“I know, but somebody is going to die, and I don’t want anyone else dying.” I shoot up from the table and suddenly feel a shift in the air. The decision isn’t an easy one, but it’s the right one.
I walk my laptop back to the table and log in. Waiting for the internet to load, I stare at my reflection in the screen, catching a look at my messed up hair. Hair I can’t bring myself to brush yet, because it reminds me of them.
My mind drifts to places I’d rather it not go to.
I’m back on the motorcycle, clutching the handlebars with everything I have because the bikers are receding from the side-view mirror, their giant bodies suddenly nothing more than a speck of dust.
The poignant smell of gasoline has infused itself into my Isabel Marant jacket.
But I don’t care about the jacket anymore.
Not when that scent is the only thing I have left of them.