Vegas Virgin (Nevada Bad Boys 1)

“Watch your language, Peoria!” My mother’s words echoed down the hallway.

What? How did she even hear me!?

“Sorry, Mom.” I sighed and walked back towards my room with the bag in hand.

S EVERAL HOURS LATER , I scurried through the airport with Fiona running in front of me and my luggage rolling behind me. I felt like a kid in a candy store seeing everything around me. I had always pictured an airport as just a dull building with lines of people waiting to board their flights, but it looked like a mall with a lot of stores I had only seen on television.

We got to our counter and checked our bags before we walked towards the long line of people waiting to be ushered through security and screened. It took nearly thirty minutes to get to the front of the line and I was nervous when I stepped into the metal detector. I followed the instructions, raised my arms, and waited until the agent in front of the monitor cleared me. Once we were through security and our shoes were back on our feet, it really was like being in a mall. The only thing that even confirmed we were in an airport was the line of planes we could see when we passed a window. When we got to our terminal and realized we had two hours before we could even board our evening flight, I walked over and looked out the window. The plane was huge. Seeing them on television didn’t do it justice at all. Watching them take off and land started to create anxiety as I thought of myself being whisked away into the sky in nothing but a metal tube while I put all my trust in arriving safely.

“I?

??m starting to get really nervous.” I bit down on my fingernail and started to crunch the acrylic between my teeth.

“I’ve got some Valium if you want one.” Fiona opened her purse and started digging.

“No.” I shook my head back and forth quickly. “I don’t want to take drugs.”

“It’s a Valium, Peoria—I’m not offering you cocaine—although what stays in Vegas...” Her words drifted off and she grinned.

“We’re not doing drugs in Vegas!” My words were loud and caused a couple of older people to turn towards me, so I quickly lowered my voice to a whisper. “We’re not doing drugs!”

“Marijuana isn’t even illegal there—neither is prostitution.” Fiona bounced her eyebrows and grinned again.

“I’m not going to Vegas to become a prostitute!” I continued whispering, moving closer to Fiona and giving her the death stare.

“Not us, silly.” She shook her head and smirked. “We could get a couple of guys to show us a good time. I think you have to go outside the city limits, but there are brothels.”

“Have you forgotten I’m a virgin?” I raised my eyebrows and exhaled with a shocked expression on my face.

“You’d still be a virgin—what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” She pulled out a pill bottle and dumped two Valiums in her hand, forcing them into mine before I could object.

“I bet the STDs don’t stay in Vegas.” I pushed the pills into my pocket.

We spent the next two hours walking around the area near our terminal, window shopping for things we couldn’t afford, and eating greasy food at a restaurant which specialized in burgers, fries and heart attacks. None of it really eased the growing anxiety in my stomach as I created every disaster movie scenario involving an airplane in my head. We could be hijacked by terrorists, shot out of the sky by Russians, or even crash land in the desert where we were sold into slavery and forced to live our lives in a harem for desert nomad warlords. Or worse there would be snakes—that movie still terrified me. None of it made sense, but as my mind spun out of control, every scenario was as realistic as the tremble in my hands.

“You’re going to be fine.” Fiona put a hand on my shoulder and startled me from my mental excursion.

“I hope so.” I lifted my fingernail to my lip but before I could bite down on it, Fiona grabbed my hand.

“What was the point of getting a manicure if you’re just going to chew them off?” She pushed my hand back down to my waist.

“Sorry—nervous habit.” I clenched my fist and tried to avoid immediately pulling my hand back to my mouth.

When the plane landed and started pulling up the terminal, I heard the flight attendant tell us to line up. My knees were weak, my vision started to blur, and the world just lost focus entirely. I could hear Fiona’s voice telling me not to forget my carry-on bag, and when I looked down at my hand, I realized I had simply dropped it three feet behind me. I quickly picked it up and closed my eyes as I tried to inhale slowly. It wasn’t working. I reached into my carry-on bag, grabbed a bottle of water, and pulled the Valium out of my pocket. I sighed and tossed them into my mouth before washing the two pink pills down with a gulp of water.

Okay—let’s do this.

Chapter 2: Vincent

A cigarette burned in my fingers as I looked across my cards at the man sitting across from me. He was my best friend, but friendship didn’t mean anything when we were gambling. The last few dollars I had to my name were on the table and I wouldn’t even be able to pay my tab if I lost. I had a pair of kings next to an assortment of numbers, but Floyd had shown an ace when he threw four cards across the table. If he drew an ace, then he had the winning hand. If he didn’t, the odds were in my favor.

Despite knowing Floyd since we were kids, I never could read his face. He smiled when he was angry, frowned when he was happy, and could keep a stone-cold sober stare while he busted a nut. The emotionless slate he presented to me as he stared at his cards could mean he had a royal flush and I wouldn’t have been able to tell. I squeezed the cigarette between my lips and inhaled deeply before exhaling and tapping my fingers on the table. We were at the point of no return where Floyd knew he had me over a barrel if I lost. Even though his face didn’t reflect it, I knew he took great pleasure in having me in that position.

“So, you’re out of money...” Floyd narrowed his eyes. “Which means I can’t raise you.”

“Show your cards—if you drew an ace, then just end it.” I ran my fingers across my cards and prepared to lay them out on the table.

“How about I put another hundred in the pot and if I win, you have to do a job with me.” Floyd tapped the money that was haphazardly stacked next to his beer.