Queen of Hearts (4 page)

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s a friend. He’s helped me a lot, Vince. He’s a good man.”

“Mmm hmm,” he hummed. “I notice he helps you out
all night long
.”

I grabbed the pillow and smacked him with it. God, I’d missed him. “I could—and have—done worse.”

His brow furrowed. “So what the hell are you doing? We need to get you out of here.” He took a glance around the room. “This place is a shit hole,” he said in a disgusted tone.

“Hey,” I said defensively. “I like it here.”

Barking out a laugh, he pulled out a cigarette, shoving it in his mouth and flicking his lighter. “No, you don’t,” he said around the stick in his mouth. “You’re already tired of your new little toy, so let’s go.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I scowled at him. “That’s not true, and don’t talk shit. You don’t know him. He’s a good man, and seriously, I should stay here with him. If I was smart, I would just stay.”

He pointed at me with the cigarette between his fingers and let out a plume of smoke. “Should? I call bullshit. You’re playing it safe. Never thought I’d see the day when you’d back down, Janie.”

“He’s good, Vince,” I said softly.

“That’s not the point. You don’t want to be here. I know it, and you know it.”

He was speaking the truth, but I wasn’t ready to outright admit it. He was pissing me off with his all-knowing, cocky attitude. Plus, he had yet to explain how he wasn’t dead, or why he was sitting in my little motel room in the middle of nowhere.

“What aren’t you telling me, Vince? We both know how well it went before when you kept things from me. I think you owe me some explanations. And I want them now.”

He got up and started pacing the room again, running his hand through his hair. “Shit went down bad. I lost the girls, and the club is dust. I’m trying to figure out what to do, ya know? I couldn’t get on with my plans until I knew where you were and that you were okay.”

When he faced me, I could see just how much he’d been through. God only knew. I realized then that I was being a selfish little bitch about the whole thing. Of course I had been upset, distraught, scared. He’d been shot, left for dead, and once he recovered, I was nowhere to be found.

He was scared too.

“I’ve been okay,” I told him. I wanted to reassure him that I was going to be okay, no matter what. He’d been instrumental in making me a survivor. He taught me how to be strong and not to back down. Not my father. Vince.

“You look like it,” he said, pointing an unlit cigarette in my direction.

“When did you become a chain-smoker? Can you, like, stop?” I groaned. “It’s disgusting.”

He chuckled. “You think you get to start telling me what to do now? You grow some steel balls?”

I glared. “What happened, Vince? What did Doyle do?”

I remembered that asshole threatening Vince’s girls. He wanted them, and at the time, with bullets flying and bodies dropping, I hadn’t paid it much attention. Afterward, I got to thinking about it, and it just didn’t make sense. The guy had more money than King Midas. A handful of whores and a strip club were hardly going to put a dent in his fortune.

“He burned me. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but I’m burned. He set up some shit, and everything’s fucked.”

I let out a long, frustrated breath. “Where does that leave you? Us? I have nothing, Vince. I signed pretty much my entire life over. I make about eighty bucks a day here. I don’t have shit.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not turning tricks?”

Rolling my eyes, I reached for his pack of cigarettes and slid one out. When in Rome, I guess.

“No, I’m not turning tricks. I don’t plan on it, either.” I gave him a knowing look.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. No. I refuse to sleep with another man for money as long as I live. I mean it, Vince. This might not be glamorous, but it’s life, and I’m living it. I’d rather have nothing than go back to that.”

I
woke up the next morning groggy and alone. I searched the room, tears running down my cheeks, and all I found was an empty bottle of whiskey, a crumpled cigarette pack, and silence. If it hadn’t been for the mess, I would’ve thought I’d dreamed the whole thing up. But he had been there, and he’d left me. Again.

I wiped at the tears, angry and hurt. I had no idea what to do. Having Vince back in my life was fortifying and such a relief. I hadn’t been able to give him an answer about leaving, and the truth was, I was scared. He was right; I was playing it safe. Who wouldn’t if they were in the same position? I’d risked everything my entire life. I put myself in horrible situations, lived recklessly and dangerously. I was tired. At the age of twenty-five, I was exhausted.

But sitting there in that bullshit motel room, the scent of him lingering and the memory of having him hold and comfort me shook something up inside me. It punched deep into my soul. I couldn’t live without him in my life, and there was zero possibility of him hanging out in cow town with me.

I was in quite a freaking pickle.

Until I figured out what to do, I still had a job, and I was running late. I dragged myself out of that lumpy bed, got into the tiny shower, and got ready for my day.

~~***~~

I
could tell right away something was going on when I walked into the restaurant. The other waitresses eyed me curiously, and Blackie, our cashier, gave me the stink eye. I had no idea what crawled up their asses, but I was too hungover and tired to care.

I pushed through the kitchen and went to the back office to hang up my purse. When I opened the door, I found Jackson sitting behind the laptop, a scowl and a two-day beard on his face.

“Hey, baby,” I said. I moved around the desk to hug him. “When did you get back? I thought you’d be gone until tomorrow?”

He didn’t turn to hug me back. It was awkward and confusing. Most of all, it concerned me.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

He spun around in the chair, kicking it back and crossing one leg over the other as he faced me. “No. Nothing’s okay.”

My blood ran cold. He was angry, and I’d
never
seen him angry. “What’s wrong? Is the baby okay?”

“Baby’s fine.” His jaw ticked, and I could tell something horrible had happened.

“Oh, God! Your sister! Is she okay?”

He jumped from the chair, sending it flying into the wall, and took two long strides toward me. “This isn’t about my fucking family!”

My body shook with the thunder of his voice. I wasn’t used to that behavior from Jackson, but I sure as fuck was no stranger to angry men.

“Don’t fucking scream at me. What the hell is your problem?”

He growled, turning away from me, and slammed his fist into the wall. “My problem? What’s my problem? I leave for one day and you’re already warming your bed with someone else!”

I blinked rapidly. Shit! He’d found out about Vince being in my room—but how?

“It’s not what you think. You need to calm down.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not what I think... you callin’ me stupid, woman? I didn’t walk into your motel room at five in the morning and find you in bed with a man? That what you’re telling me?”

He looked crushed and utterly devastated. That right there was the main reason I broke things off with him in the first place. From day one, I knew I’d hurt him. I told him I would. I just never imagined how badly it would hurt me to see it.

“Jackson, listen. He’s an old friend. He just came to visit. I told you we couldn’t do this anymore, anyway. You knew it was over. We can’t be anything but friends, Jackson. I’m sorry you saw that and thought the worst, but he’s like a brother. Nothing more. I wouldn’t disrespect you that way.”

He was still fuming, and I knew it wouldn’t do any good to argue. Instead, I saw it for what it was—an easy out.

“I’m leaving, Jack. I’m going back home.”

He turned to face me, shocked, and then his face fell again. “I knew it was coming. After this morning, I knew it was sooner than later.” He took a deep breath and crossed the room to stand in front of me. “I don’t want to lose you, Jayne. I meant it—we could be good together. We could make this work. Stay. Please, stay.”

I reached up, cupping his cheeks, and leaned up to kiss him on the lips. “Goodbye, Jack. Take care of yourself.”

I
t took me no time to pack. The next morning, bright and early, I was on a plane heading back to Las Vegas. I didn’t know what I was going to do once I got there. Vince said he was burned, but it sounded like he was still in Vegas. I cursed myself for not confirming. I hadn’t expected him to leave so abruptly. I thought we’d have more time to talk so I could figure out what he was up to.

Whatever it was didn’t sound good, and that worried me. He was too vague and overly evasive. He was hiding something, and whatever it was, it was big.

It was eerie how relaxed I felt once the plane landed. I’d been trying to get out of Vegas and stay out for so many years, but as I looked out the window and saw that rich palette of earth below us, I knew I’d never get it out of my system. There was no fighting it anymore. A part of me belonged to the desert, to the competition that fed on its heat.

After almost an hour, I’d managed to get a rental car, secure my luggage, and was on my way toward the strip. I didn’t have a solid plan, and that didn’t work in my favor, but I had to get my feet right in the middle of it all. I wanted familiar sights and sounds and smells. I wanted to let my city greet me the best way it knew how. With the lights.

I hadn’t eaten since the night before, so I was starving. Knowing I needed to get some food in my stomach or else I’d collapse, I pulled into a fast-food place. What I really wanted was to dig into a dinner buffet at one of the casinos. I was ravenous for some all-you-can-eat garbage, but I was too tired, and honestly, too broke.

I was looking forward to changing that, though.

And that’s where my strategy came into focus. I needed a soft place to land, a bottle of wine, and a plan. I had to be careful about my next step. There was too much at stake, and I was at a huge disadvantage. Going in half-cocked wouldn’t work out in my favor, especially with the kind of power the men had over me. That was one part of being an escort that I missed. I always held power, in some way or another. Yes, the men always had the money, but I had the goods. I was what they wanted, and I always walked away with what they had. Being in the scope of a civilian, so to speak, I’d jumped into the lion’s cage coming back to Vegas alone.

It all went back to being a survivor. I’d never had a problem coming out on top, and I planned on taking what I wanted again. How that would work out remained to be seen. Again, it all went back to the plan.

At the top of my list was finding Vince. I had a feeling he was laying low, but I knew him well enough to dig around and find him. He came to me, after all, so I had a sense that he wanted to team up.

Once I scarfed down a burger and fries, I got back on the road and headed toward my old place. It wasn’t mine any longer, but I felt compelled to drive by. It was late, way past ten, and just like I figured, it was occupied. It was dark inside, with two unfamiliar sedans in the driveway and a colorful cube climbing apparatus on the lawn. I slowed down, smiling. I was glad it was lived in. It never meant much to me, a scrap of my life in terms of places I’d been, but it was the last place, a last shred of what I left behind, and I had to see it.

I was drowsy, way too tired to be driving around, but curiosity got the better of me, so I headed toward Vince’s house.

I pulled up across the street, shut off the car, and sat staring in the darkness at the familiar house. A faint light glowed from an upstairs bedroom, giving me a glimmer of hope that he was there. I got out of the car, crossed the street, and stood on the sidewalk while I decided what to do.

I had no idea what to expect. There were no cars parked out front, but I truly didn’t expect him to be home. He wasn’t the type of guy to hang out at home on Friday nights. For all I knew, he was still out of town. It’d only been a day since he’d been in Oklahoma. Had he driven? Somewhere in the back of my head, I remember him saying he’d driven, but it was all a blur of confusion. I was running on fumes, and nothing made sense.

Maybe it was a squatter, or maybe he had someone shacking up with him. That hardly made sense—he seldom spent time at home, and he wasn’t the type for a domestic. No, something was off. The only socializing he did involved work, and he definitely never fraternized with his girls. That was no-no number one. He was a workaholic. Work came first, pussy came and went.

But maybe... maybe he’d taken to one of them, felt sorry for someone. It was ludicrous, but at that point, anything was possible. There had to be some explanation for the figure wandering around upstairs in his otherwise dark, empty house, and that figure was definitely a woman.

There were too many what-ifs, and not enough answers. Taking a deep breath, I headed back for my car, turning to take one more look at the house, and left, more confused than ever.

I
woke up surrounded with fluffy pillows and a smooth bedspread. The sheets were soft, and the room was quiet. Heaven.

Of course, I would’ve been happier had it been a suite at the Wynn, or God forbid, the fucking Maguire, but it was within my budget, clean, and home.

After a quick shower, I got to work on my plan. I’d barely hit the bed before I passed out the night before, so I had to hustle up and get shit done. I was on a time limit. Money was tight, and I didn’t know what I would face trying to get where I needed to go.

I had to focus on getting some money, and there was the easy way, or the hard way. I was pushing hard.

I’d been done dirty, and it was time to clean up. Flynn wanted to keep tabs on me? Fine. I was ready to pay him a visit. He owed me, and I was going to collect.

The hard part was how that was going to go down. I wasn’t stupid enough to think he would just give me what I wanted; I’d been there, done that with him. I had to outsmart him to get my way.