Twenty Five

Jay

Jay gazed up at the building in front of him, overwhelmed at the mere sight. Trust Laurel to pick the most expensive hotel in Vegas. He knew she was in there, because her drug-dealing fuck-buddy had a yearly business conference, and some helpful sources in prison had told Jay that, more than likely, she’d be with the guy, just as she had been for the last seven years.

Outside the main doors of the hotel lobby, a valet and a bellhop were making quiet conversation. They were dressed impeccably, in tight, ironed red and gold suits and tacky top hats. As Jay leaned back against the wall of the building across the street, scoping the place out, the two men kept glancing in his direction, looking almost amused. A man like him didn’t belong there; a man dressed in dirty jeans and a stained white T-shirt. He was lucky if they would even consider letting him through the front doors. It was funny to him in a sick, twisted way that the money Laurel had used to get herself into a hotel like this was money that rightfully belonged to Jay and Ashley. But not anymore. Ashley was dead, and Jay was in trouble—and Laurel had it all. Her wish had come true. The brats were gone, and the husband was dead as well. She had it all.

Jay pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the back pocket of his pants and lit one up, inhaling deeply. It made him think of the first night he’d met Addy, the moment she’d bummed one off him—she’d looked so pissed off that night. She’d probably just fought with Ryan. He’d thought nothing of her then—she had merely been any other woman he’d ever come across. She had meant nothing to him—nothing. And then he’d seen the flashing lights on the cop car, and he’d panicked. And that one tiny moment of failed judgment had landed him—them—in this position. No longer was she the girl in the car he didn’t care about; now she was everything he had left behind—the one that got away—a memory. Soon nothing but that.

A memory.

Outside the extravagant hotel, a group of older, glitzy women piled into a red Corvette, a car much too quick and stylish for such a group. They were giggling, tipsy from lime margaritas, holding onto their stupid, oversized hats as they tipped the valet and drove away, their laughter carrying back to him.

Despite growing up in a family of privileged Americans, Jay had never been fond of the rich-bitch, glitzy type. Rich people were snobs. They were prudes. They were mean and judgmental, and he’d sworn to himself at an early age that he’d never grow up to act like that. His mother hadn’t been like that, but Laurel had. He didn’t want to be that snobby guy with a lot of money, and a heart of stone. His father had been such a sad, angry man—the money had been what he’d worshiped, and everything else had fallen apart around him. So, Jay stayed away from the money—he stayed away from the drama that came with the money.

Jay had been his own person once, an outcast. At least, that’s how he’d been seen in the eyes of his father and Laurel. Ashley had been different to him, accepting of his ways, and understanding of his flaws. Though she’d always embraced the money, her respect for society never faded, even into her twenties. She had been a good egg, that one. He wished he’d turned out half as decent as his sister had.

Jay stubbed his third cigarette out under his toe and reached for another. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. All he needed was a confession from Laurel. Just one simple confession and his life would almost be back to normal.

Ha. Right. Nothing would ever be as normal as it had been with Addy—she had been his normal, and now she was gone, and it was all his fucking fault.

In front of the hotel doors, a car pulled up to the valet parking. He squinted into the sun, recognizing the make and model of the sleek black car in front of him. It was a classic Mercedes, the one his sister had owned before her death. She had loved that car—cherished it. It had been a gift from their father for her sweet sixteen.

Rage flooded through Jay as the driver’s side door opened and a woman stepped out. She wore a black cocktail dress that clung to the slender curves of her body. Sunglasses framed her face, and her blond hair was down around her shoulders. She clutched a Gucci purse under one arm and an older gentleman with a potbelly on the other. Jay knew that man who clung to her arm—he’d been the man she was screwing while she’d been married to his father. She didn’t spot Jay across the street as she handed the keys to the valet and vanished inside the front doors to the lobby.

Jay pushed himself off the wall and smashed out the burning cigarette, adjusting his sunglasses as the bright Nevada sun egged on a headache. He pulled out another cigarette and slid it between his lips, wincing as somewhere out of the corner of his eye, a flash of light blinded him. He shielded his eyes, scanning the area for the culprit. Standing across the street, a tacky pink jewel dangling from the cell phone in her hand, was Addy. She was leaning up against a palm tree, one arm crossed and the other one holding a leash. Her leg was propped up behind her, watching him, and the silly dog was lying at her feet. He stared for a moment, trying to fathom the possibility. Was it even her? Yes. Yes, it was her. There was no mistaking that wavy brown hair and stubborn, no-bull-shit stance.

Jay dropped the unlit cigarette onto the ground and crossed the street, unfamiliar with this new feeling of awe overtaking him. He had never felt like this before; so glad, so excited, so relieved. When she saw him approach, she lifted her chin, eyes meeting his. She had that challenging look on her face, an expression mixed with both excitement and smugness. She said nothing as he approached, only letting her hands drop to her sides as he came face to face with her.

“Is it wrong to feel awkward here?” she asked, sizing up the hotel behind them. “I miss our hole-in-the-wall motel already.”

Jay reached out for her, pulling her into him, embracing the alluring scent of shampoo in her hair. His heart fluttered unnaturally against his chest as he rested his lips on her forehead and closed his eyes. It was like a dream come true, a moment of pure elation. They stood together for the time being, embraced in the other one’s arms. Nothing had to be said now. The silence was all that was needed, and an unspoken bond hung between them.

“Yeah,” Jay said. “I do, too.”