Vegas Virgin (Nevada Bad Boys 1)

“What? Who?” Floyd blinked as his eyes returned to normal size.

“Peoria! The girl we stole luggage from.” I put my hands on his hips.

“So? Who gives a shit—he’ll kill us if he finds out we stole from him!” Floyd stood and put his head in his hands.

“I’ve been seeing her, Floyd.” I let my anger settle for a moment. “I gave her the necklace I kept—that has to be how he found her, or else he would have come straight for us.”

“Fuck! She’s going to tell him who you are. We have to get the fuck out of town. Fuck the girl, Vincent—we have to go!” He ran to his bedroom and I heard him slinging stuff out of his closet.

“Go if you want, but the jewelry stays—you hear me? You can’t take anything. I’ve got to try and talk with him.” I walked into his bedroom.

“You have my word, man. I don’t want any of that shit. I’m leaving and I’m never coming back to Las Vegas.” Floyd quickly started stuffing some of his clothes in a suitcase.

“It’s been good knowing you, Floyd. I won’t tell him you were involved. If someone is going to die for this, I’ll take the bullet.” I turned away from Floyd and started walking towards the door.

Just as long as it isn’t Peoria.

Chapter 13: Peoria

I had never known real fear before I landed in the back of the black van. I thought I had. I got scared when I thought I had left my phone in the bathroom once at the mall, fearing someone had stolen it. I got scared when I couldn’t find my shoe before church one morning, fearing that I had accidentally put it in the laundry. Those things didn?

??t describe real terror.

The fear I felt was reflected in Fiona’s eyes as well. Our hands were bound behind our backs once the van started to pull away, and gags were stuffed in our mouths to keep us from saying anything. The van roared along the strip and then the lights of the city vanished when we went into some sort of parking garage. We were taken to an elevator, pushed and shoved mercilessly when we didn’t walk fast enough. The elevator took us up a few flights and then we were separated. Fiona was carried down the hallway and I screamed her name, even against my gag, but I was pushed in the opposite direction. I was taken into a small room with a steel table and bound to a chair. A few minutes later, the man who had taken me walked in and slammed the door.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions.” He pulled the gag out of my mouth and then sat down across from me.

“Why are you doing this?” I looked at him with confusion in my eyes.

“I said I would be asking questions—not you.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Where did you get the necklace?”

“What?” I looked down at my chest, but the necklace was gone. I hadn’t even noticed when it was taken with all the commotion.

“It is a one of a kind piece, designed by Salvatore Bali for a very special young lady he was seeing.” He continued staring at me. “One of our jewelry stores was robbed yesterday by two rather large men—they took everything. I know you and your friend didn’t steal from us, but you know who gave it to you.”

“If it was stolen, just keep it. You didn’t have to bring me here just to take it back!” I ran my tongue across my lips when I felt them crack where they had dried out while my mouth was gagged.

“That would be easy, wouldn’t it? I’m not interested in just one necklace. I want the rest of the stuff that was stolen too, and since it wasn’t in your hotel room, I’m guessing whoever gave you the necklace has it.” He unfolded his arms and tapped his fingers on the table. “I’m trying not to lose my temper—I would really like it if you would just answer my questions so I don’t have to ruin that pretty face.”

“Please, I don’t know where the rest of your stuff is. I got the necklace from a guy I met.” I looked across the table and tugged on the rope that bound my wrists.

“I need more than that. I need a name.” He tilted his head and there was a knock at the door. “Come in.”

The other man who confronted us on the street poked his head in the door. “The other girl gave us the name. We’re checking it out now. Let’s go.”

“I guess I don’t have to hurt you after all.” The man smiled. “Lucky you.”

Fiona knew enough to tell them who gave me the necklace, but she didn’t know enough to send them to his door. I was thankful I hadn’t shared many details with her, although I was furious at Vincent for putting me in the position to begin with. It was clear that he stole it from someone who wanted it back, and it wasn’t just something simple like shoplifting—if what the man had said was true, he robbed a jewelry store.

I thought back to what Vincent had said to me about his luck turning around and not having to steal luggage again. It had to be true. He robbed the jewelry store and had apparently ticked off some really dangerous people. As angry as I was with him, I was more concerned about my safety—and Fiona’s safety. I couldn’t blame her for telling them who gave me the necklace. I would have probably done the same if she had suddenly started sleeping with a random criminal that landed us in the same predicament.

I just hope they don’t kill him—or us.

Chapter 14: Vincent

“G o back to your boss—tell him I’m looking for him.” I drove my fist into the face of the two-bit thug I had against the wall. “My name is Vincent Crane and he can find me at Dixon’s Bar.”

It was the fourth of Lawson King’s known associates I had put my fist through. The easiest way to get his attention was to tell people I was looking for him. I was fairly certain he was looking for me too, because I didn’t expect Peoria to hide the fact I gave her the necklace. I just hoped they hadn’t hurt her before she told them—and I hoped they didn’t kill her after she did. I watched as the man ran down the alleyway and then climbed back into my truck. The only thing I could do was wait for the hell that was coming my way. The jewelry was still locked up where we left it, but I had the ring and tennis bracelet in my pocket to prove I was the one who robbed the store. I lit a cigarette and headed to Dixon’s Bar. I didn’t manage to take more than a few sips from my beer when the door opened and a man with jet black hair stepped into the bar. He wasn’t a regular and his suit suggested he was definitely a long way from home.