BAD WICKED TWISTED: A Briarcrest Academy Box Set (83 page)

He dialed but got nada.

“Try again,” I said for the fifth time. He kept at it, his digits doing the work. My eyes darted over to him every so often, willing him to reach her.

“She’s got it turned off for the flight,” he said, staring out at the passing scenery. Dude seemed calm, but I knew he wasn’t. His hands shook.

What if her date did things to her she couldn’t come back from?

What if…

I sped the car up, weaving in and out of traffic.

Finally, we spun into Big Daddy’s Pawn, a run-down place that was no store at all. That much was obvious from the high dollar cars in the parking lot and the barbed wire than rimmed the property.

I threw her in park and jumped out.

“Slow down,” Spider called. “You’re going in there half-cocked. What’s the plan?”

He lit a cig. Could he not go five minutes?

“The plan is this: everything I say, you nod and look serious.”

He sucked in a long drag. “Even if you get him to call off his dogs, you’re never gonna make Vegas.”

Dude was a downer. I tightened my lips, not giving up, not when I’d gone through so much to finally realize that I was worth love.

Yeah, we were going into the unknown, into the den of a major player, but nothing was stopping me. I had to because she was depending on me—although she didn’t know it yet. And I know that I’m just a young guy without much experience with bad dudes, and yeah, I’m fucking scared, but I love her, and I’d do whatever it took to make sure Barinsky would never bother her again.

We knocked on the rusty metal door, and a mean-looking guy with red hair opened it, eyes hard.

I told him who I was, causing those ginger eyebrows to hit the roof.

Yep, money talks. Being a Hudson meant something in this town, even in this shithole of a neighborhood.

He opened the door for us and we went in.

“I didn’t come to Vegas for the shows.”

–Dovey

I ARRIVED ON time, got my bags, and caught a cab bound for the Bellagio Hotel on Las Vegas Boulevard. The weather cooperated. It was one of those cloudless days, the sky a perfect blue. A far cry from the cold I’d left in Dallas.

I didn’t enjoy any of it.

I’d never been anywhere outside of Texas my entire life. When you’re poor, traveling is never on your list of priorities. So, I got lost a bit in the scenery, or rather the spectacle that created this city smack dab in the middle of a desert. Neon billboards flashed everywhere, in front of small and large casinos, restaurants, and shops. I doubted I’d do any of those things, but the deluge was a welcomed sensory overload. I sat back against the vinyl seats, missing Sarah and Heather-Lynn. I even missed the dog.

The cabbie drove by the famous fountains of the hotel and pulled under the covered portico. Immediately, two bellhops rushed to help me, and I had a flashback moment to the night at The Dorchester. I cringed. At least Cuba wasn’t here to see how much further I’d fallen.

I checked my watch, noting that I had three hours until The Man arrived.

The well-dressed lady at the desk gave me my room key, and I headed up to the suite on the twentieth floor, passing elaborate sculptures and exotic flower arrangements that dotted the lobby area. I rode up in the black-mirrored elevator, amid wealthy looking patrons, feeling like an imposter.

The room wasn’t a suite like some of the ones I’d read about on Google, but it was beautiful, the furnishings modern and tastefully done in shades of dark blue and silver. And I guess it didn’t really matter how big the room was. And it wasn’t like The Man wanted to impress me. I was bought and paid for already.

I gazed out the window to watch the water show below in the fountain. With operatic music and bright lights, it kept my mind occupied. Soon though, fear overtook me, and what lay ahead banged around in my mind. But I soothed myself with the thought that this was the last time, that after this I could go home to Sarah and Heather-Lynn, that I could continue with ballet.

Two hours left.

I unpacked, trying to stay busy and not think about the ticking clock. According to the instructions, he was in a business meeting, but planned to arrive by six o’clock. He’d also requested I wear a dress. I didn’t think it would stay on long.

After clothes and toiletries were put away in the closet, I sat down in one of the velvet covered chairs and clicked on the television. It popped up on a news channel, and I stared at the screen, running my hands over one of the soft pillows.

One hour left.

I got up, knowing I had to get ready. I chose my blue lace dress, even though I’d bought it last year with Cuba in mind after he told me he’d dreamed about me in blue. It had been lying tucked away in the back of my closet in Ratcliffe, hidden behind some old sweatshirts and dancewear. Wearing it for The Man would mean that I’d truly let go of me and Cuba.

I smoothed out the wrinkles. Yes, tonight.

By 5:45 PM, I’d showered, applied make-up, and dressed, the minutes ticking down one by one. I sat back in the velvet chair and waited.

By 6:30 PM, The Man was late, and I was getting anxious. I called down to the desk to see if he’d left me any messages, but he hadn’t. I’d had my phone turned off, and I considered turning it back on, but I didn’t want to communicate with those who loved me. I wanted to push them all away and just get the job done.

By 7:00 PM, I ordered room service. My appetite was iffy, but I figured why not, charging it to the room. So I went all out: strawberry salad, filet mignon, steamed asparagus, and crème brulee, all en route to my room. I didn’t know if I’d be able to eat, but I had to do something that involved action. Because I felt like I was going to die in this room.

Tap, tap, tap
came the knock at 7:10 PM, and I snapped up, tugging at my hem.

Panic struck and I breathed through it, preparing for another performance.

Was it him or room service?

A few seconds ticked by and
bang, bang, bang
the knock came again, this time more insistent.

What would happen if I didn’t answer
? I could hide in the bathroom. I could step out on the small balcony and climb down the fire escape. But there was no fire escape. Heck, this wasn’t some ratty motel. It was the Bellagio.

Yes, there was no rewinding. I put one foot in front of the other.

I opened the door slowly, adrenaline spiking.

The world stood still.

I took Cuba in, his shoulders slumped against the door frame as if he were exhausted, his hair tousled. His eyes pinned me, making me freeze, making the hair rise on my arms, my nape, and into my scalp. I stopped breathing, staring at my Greek god, at the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. He blinked those long, dark lashes as he stared at me, as if he couldn’t believe I was there. Ditto.

“What? How—”

He came at me full throttle and wrapped me in his arms. I squeezed my eyes tight, letting the warmth of him seep into me.

Was this a dream?

I pulled back. “You have to go, Cuba.
Please
.”

He stalked right past me into the room. “Not leaving.”

Just no.
I couldn’t bear it if he saw me like this again. “Leave—”

“He’s not coming,” he said.

Elation hit but then I blanched, my head shaking.
What had he done?
“Why?”

He sighed. “Because I went to see Alexander. I took care of it for you. And before you say one word, before you go off on me, let me tell you something. I love you. I have for over a year. I loved you last year when I told you so. I loved you on the day we became locker mates this year even though I hid it. I loved you when I was with other girls. I loved you when you dated that ballet dancer dude. I loved you when you were with Spider. And…listen to me good…I loved you at The Dorchester. I have
never
stopped loving you, not one single day. And I never tried to fool myself that I didn’t. I may have lied to you, but I never lied to myself. I walked a thin line every day I came to school because every single minute you were in my eyesight, I was lost. But I’d convinced myself to let you go. And you know why. But, I want you to know that this whole year, I’ve spent a lot of time growing up and thinking and figuring out what I’m made of.” He took a breath. “And I know it’s a damn mess because I helped Emma. It muddied things up for me and you, but I couldn’t let her deal with her family alone.”

Emma? What?

He sighed. “But, I don’t know, somehow, my hope came back, but it’s not complete. You’re a light I need. Like a thousand fucking suns.”

My mouth parted, not understanding part of what he’d said. I replayed his words.
Emma and helping?
Did that mean…

Even if he did have a baby with her, I’d still love him.

“Is the baby yours?”

“No,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small smile at my confusion.

What?

Then who? Did I care?

And…whoosh.
Relief hit as
that yucky feeling of him tied to Emma disappeared. Joy washed over me, and I wanted to cry out and hug him,
but…

“Are you glad?” came out of my mouth.

His eyes went low. “I want kids with you, Dovey. No one else.”

“But you were with her. You—”

“The last time was four months ago and both of us loved different people. Helping her helped me. She needed someone to go to her parents with her. And when she told the two guys who might be the father.”

Oh. Wait,
two
?

“Sebastian?”

He shrugged. “He and Matt are both getting tested for paternity.”

I’d really missed the boat on that one although I’d seen the clues. Sebastian’s long looks at Emma, his insistence Cuba wasn’t with her.

And then Cuba. I got it. He’d acted cagey about Emma to make up for past sins.

He took a step closer to me, the lines of his face resolute. “And all those other girls. They’re nameless, and I sure as hell can’t picture faces. It’s always been you.” He scrubbed his jaw. “And it’s been a crazy as shit ride getting here. Spider and I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. And then I couldn’t get a flight out until tonight. It was a mess, and all I could see was you in this hotel room scared and waiting and it drove me insane. I had to see you. I had to hold you. I wanted to tell you in the barn that I loved you, but I didn’t have the guts then.”

Him and Spider?
Now that was weird.

“How did you get here so fast?”

“Private jet.”

“A jet?”

“That’s what I said.” He looked smug.

“You mean, like, your dad has a
jet
?”

He grinned like crazy. “Dallas Mavericks do. I called dad, told him most of it, and here I am. With you.”

Oh. He’d done all that for me.

One of my hands went to his heaving chest and rested on his heart while the other traced the lines of his roses and thorns. I lay my head against him and let it all sink in. He still loved me, he wasn’t with Emma, but…

“Will you ever forgive me?” For what I must still do. But wait? Hadn’t he said he’d taken care of it? I clutched his shoulders. “How did you change his mind?”

He tipped my chin up. “I paid off your debt with the only thing I own. My car.”

“You gave him your hundred thousand dollar gift from you father?” My voice was reedy. Twenty thousand minus my night with The Man plus his car? There was something wrong with that picture.

“Easiest thing I’ve ever done,” he said, brushing lips softly against mine. “Left it at his pawn shop. And he was glad to get it.”

“But—”

His finger touched my lips. “I know you think no one can help you, but you’re not an island unto yourself. There are people who care about you. We want to help, and you’re not letting us? It hurts. It’s what a man does when he loves his girl. He buys her things, he takes her out to dinner, he pays off loansharks. Meh. All in a day’s work.”

“He knows you now,” I said, mouth dry. “What if he tries to hurt you or blackmail you?”

He pushed the hair off my face, shushing me. “He’s never going to bother any of us again. He got more than his required sum. And I may have mentioned that my dad does business with the governor of Texas.” He pursed his lips. “And I hated to throw it around, but he also plays golf with a certain ex-President who’s from Highland Park. My dad knows people in high places, Dovey. Archie Hudson can sic the federal government on anyone he wants. He’s bigger than Barinsky will ever be.”