Page 109 of Red's Peril: Part 1

As we relax and try out the bar, I keep my eyes moving around, now taking in the place with more interest, knowing we’ll have some responsibility here. Once we’ve all got drinks in our hands, Crossman takes his leave of us.

I nudge Crash. “I’m going to have a walk around.”

“Sure, Prez. Try not to lose your shirt.”

I roll my eyes as I walk away from him. One thing I’ve learned since living in Vegas is that you can’t beat the house. Of course, some people get lucky, but they’re few and far between. Far more fortunes have been lost rather than made in Sin City, and I’m rather partial to my shirt.

Rather than getting involved, I want to soak up the atmosphere. See if the customers are happy or not, and if it’s the latter, how the full-time security staff are dealing with it. I watch a game of roulette for a while, turning down the offer of another drink from one of the servers, then move on.

I’ve walked the room almost from one end to the other when I stop at a table where the croupier is dealing hands of Blackjack. I admire her dexterity with the cards and also take a moment to admire her blonde hair perfect for twisting my fingers into as I feed her my cock. Then I berate myself,haven’t I learned my lesson? Why is it every blonde reminds me of Cheryl?

Raising her face from the cards for a second, her eyes meet mine, deep blue eyes which look familiar. A nose shaped just how I remember. Sure, there are the beginnings of crow’s feet and a few wrinkles that weren’t there before, but that face? To this day, I’ve been unable to forget it. She’s still as beautiful as she ever was.

For a second, the ability to breathe leaves me.

She, too, looks like she’s having difficulty. She pauses mid deal, and her mouth drops open. Her eyes widen. A flush comes to her cheeks as though she’s recalling the heated nights we spent together. Her expression is blank for a moment, as though she’s not sure whether she’s pleased to see me or not, then a tentative smile starts to form.

A man coughs, getting her attention back to the task at hand. With a little shake, an apologetic smile, in a professional manner, she gets back to her job.

I just stand there. It’s been years since I’ve stopped hoping to bump into her, knowing seeing her again was beyond all odds. Now she’s in front of me and I’ve actually found her, wild horses couldn’t make me leave.

I guess, in this case, you could say the house just lost.

When a customer throws down his cards and walks off in a huff, I take his place at her table. While I watch her working, I note there’s no ring on her finger. Doesn’t mean fuck, she could still be married but doesn’t want to advertise it at work or had been and is now divorced. She’s lived half her fucking lifetime without me. I hadn’t been waiting for her, so why should she for me?

I take the card she deals me, fuck knows why, my head’s not in the game. I do it just to be closer to her. I wait, without actually knowing what I’m waiting for. If I find out she’s single, would I give it another shot? Would she want to?

Telling myself I’m just curious about what happened to her, and how she’s here and not in Illinois anymore, I linger, not even moving when Crash comes up, bending his head to speak to me. I carry on a conversation with one eye on that dealer, determined this time, she won’t escape.

“Keys and I are heading out, most of the rest are ready. You coming?”

“Nah,” I tell him, still with my eyes fixed on the apparition in front of me. “You go on.”

“Seen something you like, Prez?” Crash looks from me to the table, then leans in close. “I can see the attraction, but perhaps you shouldn’t shit on our doorstep. We’ve just landed this job.”

I’m not upset that the VP has sanctioned me, but I do seek to reassure. “I’m not going to jeopardize shit.” I lower my voice. “I know her, from way back, that’s all. Just want to catch up.”

“Okay, Prez.” He slaps my back. “You have a good night, you hear?” He winks at me and then walks off.

It’s not long after he’s left that I get the chance I was waiting for. Another croupier comes up to relieve her. I immediately stand ready to chase her, but she doesn’t try to sneak away. Instead, she comes around the table and straight up to me.

“Is it really you?” She gazes at me, an unreadable smile on her face.

I don’t bother answering. “You finished for the night?”

“Yeah.” Her voice sounds hesitant, as if she’s in two minds whether she wants to speak to me.

I feel tongue tied like a schoolboy, but manage to ask, “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

She grimaces, and there’s a moment’s hesitation. “I should go home. I’m dead on my feet. But, okay, I’ll have one drink with you.”

I notice she doesn’t sound particularly enthusiastic. Buy hey, maybe I should just be pleased she’s remembered me after all this time. It’s not been her fault that she’s remained on my mind, that’s my aberration. Though it would be nice to know she’d thought of me from time to time and regretted leaving.

I follow her to the bar, not failing to notice she’s still got a shapely ass. When I step up to order our drinks, it puts her behind me for the first time. I hear her indrawn gasp and swing around.

“What’s the matter?” I glare in the general vicinity to see who’s put that sudden look of fear in her eyes.

“You’re in a motorcycle gang,” she accuses me, quite rightly. But it’s the tone of her voice that has me taking a step back.

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