The kid nods and checks his rearview mirror. Even though I shouldn’t, I’m feeling a little paranoid. It’s not like Sin would watch out the window to make sure Rafe picked me up—he had no reason to believe I was lying to him, and since he doesn’t give a fuck about me, he wouldn’t do it out of some sentimental desire to have one last look.
Well, he also doesn’t think it was his last look. He thinks his awful plan worked, that I’ve won Rafe’s attention, and now that Sin has rejected me, I will slink back into Rafe’s arms, seeking the comfort he would happily offer after the lovely day we had.
I don’t think so, asshole.
I’m not a fucking hot potato; you don’t get to pass me around when you’re done with me.
“Can we get moving?” I ask my Uber driver.
He nods, shifting his car out of park and touching the gas so we finally start rolling down the road, away from Sin’s house. “Of course. Heading to the airport, right?”
I reach for my seatbelt, stretching it across my body. As it clicks, I say, “Yes, that’s right.”
It’s quiet for a few minutes, then my driver tries to make small talk. Asks if this was my first time in Vegas. Light-heartedly tells me how he hopes I didn’t get caught up in the fun and gamble more than I could afford.
Smiling without humor, I tell him, “Unfortunately, I did.”
“Aw, man, that sucks. I’m sorry.”
I shrug, looking out the window. “At least I had the experience, I guess.”
“That’s true,” he says, more than willing to look on the bright side with me. It’s not his loss, after all. “There’s really no other place like Vegas, is there?”
“God, I hope not,” I mutter.
He laughs a little uneasily, but thankfully seems to accept that the girl with the tearstains on her cheeks probably doesn’t want him to make small talk, so he shuts his friendly mouth and leaves me alone to reflect. To think about the wonderful time I must have had this week, about the real world I have to go back to now, maybe about the consequences I’ll have to face. Whatever monetary loss he imagines, I am envious of the Laurel who lives in his mind. The one who came to Vegas and only lost a little cash.
Money you can recoup. Money you can earn more of. What I’ve lost here comes from a finite well. I may have only spent a few days in this town, but the experiences I’ve had here will leave an imprint on me that I’ll feel much longer than I would a financial loss. Maybe the rest of my life.
So funny how fifteen minutes ago I thought I might stay here. I was so fooled by the hospitality, so swept up in the game; I thought there was a place for me at the table.
What a fool I’ve been. I should have run away from this place at the very first opportunity. The first moment Sin let his guard down enough to let me out in public, I should have excused myself to the restroom and hauled ass out of this place.
I was seduced by Sin. All the sins, every last offering. Even now, still feeling the pain so acutely, I can remember the high. I can remember all I stood to win, how sure I was that I would have it all—right before the ball landed in the wrong slot and all my chips were raked off the table.
The problem with gambling is that the longer you play, the greater the likelihood you’ll lose. I may not like the feeling of being a temporary player in their high stakes world, I may have fallen for the flash and bet far more than I could afford to lose, but there’s one thing I know.
Even if you’ve lost all you came with, the only way you win is to walk away from the table. The house has deep pockets, and if you keep trying to recoup your losses, you’ll end up so deep in the hole you’ll never be able to dig your way out.
I came, I played, and I lost; now it’s time to cash in, go home, and dig myself out of the hole while I still can.