Page 49

TOM SAWYER

VANESSA

T he Jacques Cartier Bridge to Notre Dame Island, where the casino was located, was jam packed that evening.

They should have known it might be, considering the town itself was full of out-of-towners for the festival.

On the drive, she and Santino chit chatted about home and what his various siblings might be up to at that moment.

Then they moved on to work, especially the fire station and updates on several of the guys she’d known for the short time they were married.

But all the while, her heart was pumping as hard as beats in a club.

Santino, on the other hand, seemed wired, ready for battle. He had his playlist running through the truck’s speakers and was rocking out to Rush’s “Tom Sawyer.”

“Hey. Didn’t they play this at the beginning of Rob Zombie’s remake of Halloween ?” she asked.

“Huh. Did they? I don’t remember.” Santino continued, singing off pitch along with Geddy Lee’s vocals.

How fucking fitting. This felt vaguely like every scene in a horror movie where someone’s merrily and stupidly driving off to a mysterious, secluded place with a fucked up house as their destination but somehow only the audience seems aware that danger lies ahead.

When the song ended, the next playlist started.

It was totally different, and they went from 80s prog rock to modern hip hop.

Specifically, Big Sean’s “Precision.” Another omen that wasn’t so great, considering the song featured gunshots.

When they were finally on the island and the complex came into view, Vanessa was awed at the size and scale, which momentarily took her mind off the knot in her stomach. Before Santino arrived, she hadn’t planned on coming here, and hadn’t done any research on the place.

“Damn. It looks like something out of Starfleet,” she murmured as she gazed up at the enormous white metal spires standing in a semi-circle around the art deco buildings. “Whoever built this must have been a hardcore Trekkie.”

“The website said it was part of some Expo back in the 1960s. This place is old .”

“Do not say that to your parents or my mother.”

The sun had set as they were crossing the bridge. When they pulled up to the circular roadway in front of the main entrance, Santino handed the keys to a valet. Bobby and Zoe had been texting back and forth on the drive, and pulled up moments later.

Santino pulled out his phone. As Bobby helped Zoe out of the passenger seat , her jaw dropped at Vanessa’s dress with her tall heels and big, billowing mane of puffy coils. Santino snapped a picture of Zoe’s face while Vanessa beamed.

He'd followed her instructions to a T. For once, she didn’t care about maintaining her cool or being the bigger person.

If there were Ten Levels of Petty in Hell, she was going to press “B” for the basement tonight.

Same went for Scott if he actually showed up.

Santino had agreed he wasn’t going to get physical with the man, but judging from the look on his face, he had some petty of his own planned should Scott show his face.

“Damn, Santino. How do you have my sister out here flashing the world?” Bobby asked with a mock scowl when he saw her dress. Then he eased into laughter. “I’m just playing. You look amazing.”

Bobby handed his keys to a second valet. Tonight, he was dapper in his sky-blue button-down dress shirt that complemented his dark skin, and dress pants with brown leather loafers.

“Thank you, thank you,” Vanessa said, doing exaggerated hair tosses over each shoulder, then laughing. “You both look great.”

Zoe was gorgeous, as always, Vanessa acknowledged with an internal grumble.

She was clad in a bright poppy colored romper with her shoulder-length black hair loose and make up on point.

Her chunky heels didn’t add a significant amount of height to her petite frame, but did make her bronzed legs look impossibly toned.

“Thank you,” Zoe said, turning around so they could get a good look at her ass in the romper and then shaking it at them. “I heard they have a club. I’m ready to dance to some good music tonight.” She cast a longer glance Santino’s way, who frowned.

Ignoring her, he said, “Virgil just texted. They’re already inside at one of the poker tables on Level A. Let’s get rollin’. I got money to make and money to take!” Santino walking into a gambling lair was like a prince returning home to his kingdom.

Bobby had already been informed via text that Virgil, Ling and a mysterious New Yorker would be joining them. Excitement showed clearly on his face and in his walk.

Did she feel a little like a conspirator knowing Bobby was probably going to be making eyes at the beautiful Ling while Zoe sat there?

Maaaayyybe.

Then, her gaze flicking to Zoe’s unsuspecting face, she felt a twinge of guilt.

She knew if the situation was reversed, if it was Antoinette coming around and Santino was going to fawn over her, she wouldn’t like it if someone were popping popcorn to watch the mess unfold like it was a reality show.

Okay, so maybe she was too soft for the Basement Level of Petty. Perhaps Level 4 would make her feel like less of a jerk?

As Bobby and Santino walked, Vanessa held on to Santino’s hand. Zoe latched herself to Vanessa’s side and gave her dress a pointed glance.

“I’ve gotta get a picture of you to show Mom. She might have something to say about all that hanging out. No bra, either? I can see your little Betty Boops,” Zoe remarked in a stage-whisper, poking her nipple.

“Have you already started drinking?” Vanessa asked, batting Zoe’s hand and turning to the side. Zoe shrugged and giggled with her palms up, indicating she had.

“Just saying. Let me guess. Santino finally got you slutted out, huh? I hope you’re wearing undies. Hey everyone! Don’t drop any soap in front of this hoe.” Zoe laughed, swaying a bit and falling onto Vanessa’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I helped pick out her dress,” Santino said, overhearing. “Isn’t my wife the hottest woman in this whole complex?”

Zoe’s face pinched despite her sweet smile. “Oh, for sure! She’s totally channeling Donna Summer or Diana Ross or one of those really old divas.”

Fuck it. Basement Level it was. The sooner they found Ling, the better.

They showed their IDs at the entrance and went inside the first of the casino’s several levels and three interconnected buildings.

Vanessa went full-on tourist, staring at the bright lights, and the sign in French offering a welcome to the casino that looked just like the iconic “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” sign on the Vegas strip.

There were plenty of places designed for photo ops, including an alcove lit up with a neon sign and a quirky little couch.

“Okay, let me take a pic of y’all,” Vanessa offered.

Zoe posed with a grin, but Bobby’s eyes were now bracketed by anxious lines as he scanned the crowd. Then Zoe did the honors and took pics of her and Santino. Of course, Vanessa was mostly out of the frame.

“Gee thanks,” she said with a frown, then put her phone away.

The casino was packed. The blinking lights of the machines, the crowds, the noise, all would have been a bit overwhelming under normal circumstances.

But there was also excitement and energy, the crackle in the air of something coming, good or bad, like clouds that were about to usher in a storm that would either break the earth or cleanse it.

No matter what happened, the warmth of Santino’s grasp, the solidity of his body, were her anchors.

They found the poker room at last. Virgil was seated at a no limit Texas hold ’em table with Scott and a couple of other people.

including two men and a woman. Ling was sitting off Virgil’s right while a pretty light-skinned Black woman was standing behind Scott looking bored but smiling brightly when he glanced up at her to comment.

It seemed he’d wasted no time finding himself a new companion.

Vanessa smiled to herself. She didn’t feel a shred of envy that Scott had someone new.

In fact, she’d felt somewhat relieved when Santino had told her Scott was bringing a date.

Before the nonsense of the past week, she really had believed he was a great guy.

He deserved to find love if he could tone it down with the intense wounded act.

Who knew, maybe they could eventually all end up as friends? There’d been no swapping of saliva, no cascades of cum, and if he and Santino could let bygones be bygones tonight, there’d be no buckets of blood. Anything was possible when no bodily fluids had been exchanged.

But one look from Scott when his eyes lifted and zeroed in on her and then Santino, and the brief fantasy of a friendly acquaintanceship went flying out the gigantic casino windows. His eyes flicked down to her cleavage, and she flushed, feeling exposed under that angry gaze.

Santino’s hand tightened on hers. He was staring right back at Scott with a smug smirk, and it dawned on her that he’d chosen this dress exactly for this purpose. Not to show up Zoe, although that had been satisfying. It was to show Scott what he’d never had and was never going to have.

Prince Petty for the win.

Scott and Zoe weren’t the only ones who noticed the daring, plunging neckline and her display of assets. Other men turned to gawk as they passed, which made Santino trade his smirk for a glare.

“Watch yourself, tigre . No caveman theatrics because people are looking,” she murmured to him as they approached the table. “Remember, you picked out this dress.”

“Yeah, yeah I know. You still do look fuckin’ hot, though.” His warm palm against the small of her back was a comforting caress.

“I feel like a lady villain in a Bond movie. I should introduce myself as Titty McBane,” she whispered back.