Broken (21 page)

An alarm goes off in her mind as she takes in her options.

She wants to run but isn’t sure where to go. She’s wondering about Kyle but has no idea where he might be. It’s her fault
for coming a little early, for coming down here in the first place. She turns to her right when a figure runs into the room,
and for a moment she thinks it’s Kyle but it’s not. It’s the little boy who used to come running into her room and bouncing
on her bed and bothering her and nagging at her and making her laugh.

Yet Lex isn’t smiling and he isn’t really looking at her to begin with.

She can’t believe it’s him and can’t believe how old he looks.

But before she can manage a word, Lex crashes into Connor and sends both of them tumbling. A woman behind the desk is as shocked
as Laila.

The figure on her left keeps coming.

“Lex,” she calls out.

He’s on the floor pinning Connor to the ground.

She calls out again and is about to do something when the big guy arrives. With one quick yank the man tears Lex off Connor.
As Lex lands on the tiled floor of the hotel lobby, the woman behind the desk screams. The stranger points a gun at Connor’s
head.

“Where’s your brother?” he asks.

A loud boom suffocates the lobby and sends Laila to her knees. She imagines Connor’s head exploding in bloody chunks over
the floor, yet the only thing hit is a piece of the lobby desk that cracks and splinters on the floor. Another loud boom sends
Laila crawling on her knees toward Lex, who is kneeling on the side of the check-in desk.

“Get your gun off him,” a voice behind her says.

Laila recognizes it. She gets to Lex and puts her hands on his face and feels him breathing and for a moment looks into those
familiar eyes.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have a chance. But she sees him and knows he wants to say something and knows that he’s
okay.

“Get off him or this one is going to hurt,” James says.

Laila gives Lex a knowing look that says a hundred things.

She breathes and then glances over as the big man kneels and then stands up.

It takes him less than a second to aim his gun toward the entry to the door and let off three shots. Glass breaks and crashes,
and Laila doesn’t wait around to see what the results are. The woman behind the desk screams again as Laila grips Lex’s hand
for a second and sees him mouth the words, “Get out of here.” She stands up and lets go and sprints toward the doorway. A
huge chunk of window is blown out. She leaps over remaining glass even as James is moving and trying to duck for cover down
the hallway.

Laila is on the street in a minute with a ringing in her ears. She heads down the block, and as she does she sees Lex still
inside the lobby.

There’s another boom, and then she runs into someone who grabs her.

“Hey—hold on—Laila. Stop.”

She’s ready to head butt whoever this is until she sees Kyle’s face. He looks as white and worried as she must. She’s so out
of breath she can’t say a word.

“Come with me,” Kyle says as he holds her arm and rushes with her down the sidewalk.

Another loud gunshot goes off, and Laila thinks of Lex but knows she needs to get out of there. She speeds up and soon is
running faster than Kyle.

“Slow down. Come on. Cross the street here.”

They run without stopping for ten minutes. When Kyle finally tugs on her and tells her to come inside the bar, Laila feels
like throwing up from fear and adrenaline and not being able to catch her breath. Kyle helps her inside, and they close the
door. He puts his arms around her and holds her tight.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says.

But she doesn’t believe it and never will.

Her hands shake as they hold the drink.

“That’ll maybe help with nerves.”

“Nothing will help this,” she tells him as she stands overlooking the street below.

“You know that’s Bourbon Street?”

“Didn’t know that.”

“Just listen—just calm down, okay?”

Kyle glances at her, exhales, and takes a sip of beer. “How’d you get away from them?”

“Away from who?”

“James? His brother.”

“I was never with them.”

“He called me up and told me he had you.”

“He had you all right,” she says. “I was going to the hotel just as I told you I would.”

“James called me right after we spoke. He said he was going to meet me at my hotel. But how could he know you were planning
on meeting me there?”

“Some coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences.”

Laila sighs and sips her margarita. She’s not in the mood but doesn’t know what else to do.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Kyle says.

“I don’t quite know.”

“What?”

“I don’t. I don’t know who that guy was back there. The big one with the gun.”

“But you know the other guys, right? What happened? Why are they after you?”

“They want money. They want my family’s money. My father’s money.”

“But why you? How’d they choose you out of millions of others?”

“Because I shot Connor. The skinny guy. Not sure if you’ve had the great pleasure of meeting him.”

“With my gun?”

“No. This happened on New Year’s Eve. The other one—his name is James. They’re from Chicago. They’re brothers. I shot Connor
in self-defense. And I swear I thought I killed him.”

“How’d that happen?”

“I’m not getting into that.”

“So they’re doing this out of revenge?”

“Yes. I guess. Somehow they tracked down my family. I still don’t know exactly how. They found out that my father has a lot
of money.”

“How much?”

“You ever come to the ranch, you’ll get an idea just driving around.”

“So why then—why were you in Greenville of all places working in a bank?”

“Because I could. Because I’ve had no connection with them in years.”

“Why?”

“What’s with all the questions?” She curses. “That’s my own business.”

“Laila, I’m just trying to help.”

“I know. I just—I know that. And that’s the question I can’t figure out.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to figure that out too. Your brother kept trying to understand why I’d come all this way if we weren’t an
item. He called me crazy.”

“You are crazy,” she says.

“I know.”

“I’m scared something happened to Lex.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. He has my cell number.”

“Why did he tell me to leave? Why didn’t he come with me?”

“He was probably protecting you,” Kyle says.

“Do you have his number?”

“I already tried calling it when I got the drinks. I just got voice mail.”

“Try again.”

Kyle does and waits and shakes his head. “Same thing.”

“This guy came out of nowhere.”

“Who did?”

“I don’t know who he was. He was just—he made a beeline straight toward Connor. And that’s when all hell broke loose. James
came in and started shooting, and the other guy started firing back.”

“What happened to Lex?”

“He was okay. When I last saw him.”

“Did you agree to give them money?” Kyle asks. “Why’d they follow you down this far?”

“I think because they know.” She feels a breeze blow against her. The sun is taking its time setting. Rock music blares in
the background.

“They know what?”

“They know how desperate I am.”

“What do you mean desperate?”

She shakes her head and stares out at the buildings across the street. “What did Lex say about me?”

“He’s scared about you. He’s concerned.”

“Did something happen to my family?”

“He didn’t say. He didn’t share much. I can tell he loves you.”

Laila nods, then glances at Kyle. “Can I ask you something crazy?”

“Sure.”

“You say you don’t believe in coincidences. But you believe in God and all that, right?”

“Not sure about ‘all that,’ but yes.”

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

Kyle thinks for a minute. “Don’t know. Probably not. I believe in evil spirits.”

“Maybe that’s what they are.”

“What they are? What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. I think I’m going crazy.”

She knows she probably shouldn’t be here sipping cocktails and making small talk, but she doesn’t know what else to do. She’d
maybe try going to a church, but that certainly didn’t work the last time. She doesn’t want to go back to her hotel because
she is worried someone might know she is coming. She doesn’t want to leave Kyle and has nowhere else to go.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not gonna do something crazy like jump off this deck?” He forces a smile, but the joke is half true.

“I would if I knew it would work,” she says. Laila finishes her drink and asks Kyle to get her another.

“I’ll be right back.”

She looks around the roof and doesn’t see anybody else. She glances down at the street and watches the people walking. So
many
of them surely tourists, taking in the sights and scoping out which bar they’ll come to once the dark blanket of night falls.
She wishes she could be innocent and unassuming like they are, passing time and passing the sights and passing through life
without the worry of being found and being killed.

She notices the boy in the red Texans shirt and the blue cap, and she stops.

There he is again.

Standing there on the sidewalk in the center of the block.

Standing there looking up at her.

Standing wearing that same backpack he was wearing before.

He waves.

Laila shakes her head, angry. She closes her eyes and then opens them again and still sees the kid.

“Here you go again.”

Something shuffles behind her. For a moment she turns around as Kyle sits down, then she turns back and looks on the street
and finds the spot empty.

No little boy and no Texans shirt and no little smile and wave.

“What? What happened?”

“How do you know if you’re losing your mind?” she asks. “Is there any sort of way to know?”

“I doubt you’d ask that question if you were.”

“I need to—I need to use the ladies room for a minute.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Just. Need. Minute.”

Standing up, she feels the building starting to twirl like a ride at an amusement park.

The bathroom is small, with two cramped stalls and a short sink under a round mirror. The mirror is old and distorts her image
as she stands in front of it. Laila runs cold water, cupping some of it to douse her
face. It feels good. It wakes her up just a little, and she stares at her wet face before reaching for a towel.

She remembers another time doing this. Standing at a sink feeling like the end is near and trying to make sense of everything.
It seems like yesterday. She wonders if it all would have been different if she had simply gone with the plan. If she had
simply said yes instead of saying no.

She closes her eyes and throws away the thoughts. Then she opens them and finds herself in another restroom, this one white
and sterile and clean with a toilet stall and a large sink.

She’s been here before and she knows when and where and she’s suddenly dizzy. The room begins to turn and she feels light
and her mouth goes numb and hard and she knows she’s going to be sick. Laila makes it to the toilet and vomits, throwing up
only liquid, mostly from the drink she just had. Pink swirls around the basin, and her eyes water.

As she coughs she stands up again and wipes her eyes with her hand. She’s back in the stall in the bar on Bourbon Street.
It’s small and confining. She flushes the toilet and then goes to open the stall door, but it won’t budge. The lock is open
inside, but the door seems welded shut. It won’t go in or out. She fights it, banging at it and hitting it with her palms
and then barging at it with her shoulder. But nothing. It won’t move.

Staring at the cream-colored door, she sees writing all over it. She wonders if it was there just a moment ago.

Scrawled in black ink is the same thing over and over again:

GO TO 212

The expression makes no sense to her.

There is only a tiny sliver of space below the door that isn’t enough to crawl through, and there’s no way to get over the
wall.

She fights the door again for several minutes, then screams out loud for somebody and anybody. She’s left there in silence.
Locked.

Her panic lets her ignore the running water for the moment. But
eventually she sees it, overflowing from the toilet and running down its side and onto the dirty floor.

Laila screams again, this time for Kyle. But her screams seem to bounce right back at her, as if they’re confined to just
this stall.

The liquid pouring out of the toilet begins to look like sludge and grime, like a backed-up sewer unloading its contents.
Her shoes are soaked in it, and it’s getting deeper.

She pounds at the door again. It doesn’t budge.

She howls Kyle’s name.

Grimy water with chunks in it continues to surge upward and over the back and sides of the toilet. It’s up to her ankle and
getting deeper. The smell reeks, and the sound drowns out everything else.

Once again she feels light-headed.

She refuses to let this happen. To believe that it is happening. Yet the water is cold and it stinks and it’s real. She knows
that. This is all very real.

“You will not defeat me,” she says out loud to either God or the devil or the ghost or whatever it is that is doing this to
her. Fate or chance or whatever, she doesn’t care.

With a leaping rush, she barges at the door with her shoulder slamming against it, and it tears open and sends her flying
toward the sink.

She cuts the edge of her jaw on the side of the sink.

Standing back up, she looks and sees the water still coming out. It was no dream. It’s still happening.

Laila opens the door to the restroom and walks out. Her legs are unsteady, the room still wavering. She thinks she should
find the manager and rip his head off but then realizes all she wants to do is find Kyle.