Vegas Virgin (Nevada Bad Boys 1)

“I can’t go back to prison.” I shook my head back and forth. “That ain’t fair.”

“It’ll be an easy job—no risks.” His emotionless stare could have been plotting murder for all I knew.

“Nothing is that easy.” I shook my head again. “If you’ve come up with it, there are risks.”

“Well, I mean—of course there is some risk.” He shrugged. “But nothing that would get us locked up.”

“I have a record. They’ll lock me up for a speeding ticket at this point.” I took another drag from my cigarette and exhaled before reaching for my beer.

“What’s so bad about prison anyway? You get three meals a day, a warm bed to sleep in—someone to hold you when you’re sad.” He tapped the stack of money again. “You need this.”

“I do.” I sipped my beer and sighed. “Fine, let’s do it. Show me your cards.”

A N HOUR LATER, I WAS standing outside the airport in Las Vegas with no money in my pocket and my last cigarette doing absolutely nothing to make the situation less stressful than it already was. Floyd didn’t just have two aces, he had three. The cards had fucked me and if Floyd’s plan didn’t work out, I was going back to prison. I flicked the cigarette butt into the street after taking my last puff and headed towards the terminal. Floyd’s plan involved stealing luggage. It was something he had done before, but I had never been a part of it. Floyd was already in the terminal and surveying the scene when I walked up the baggage claim.

The plane was from Atlanta, which meant it was likely full of tourists. Floyd was convinced there was a treasure trove in one of the suitcases, if we could just find the right one. He took his spot next to an older lady with a cup of coffee in his hand. The plan was simple. He would point out a suitcase, pretend to reach for it, and then fall into the old lady. The chaos of knocking her down and spilling his coffee all over a couple of people next to her would provide a distraction so I could pick up the suitcase he pointed out and walk away undetected.

Except for all these fucking cameras.

I had a hat pulled down over my face and I tried to avoid looking up so they could see my face. We watched as several bags rolled by and then Floyd pointed out a large black suitcase that had a University of Georgia tag hanging from the handle. I wasn’t sure what made it special other than the fact it was stuffed so tight the zipper was bulging. Floyd started his routine, just as he described it. He reached for the suitcase, tripped over his feet, crashed into the old lady, and sent the coffee cup with a loose lid flying into the crowd. There was an immediate uproar and all eyes centered on him except mine. He started apologizing profusely as he started to stand, but then fell again and had to be helped up by a man next to him. The people who had coffee spilled on them were going crazy and yelling at him, while others were more concerned about the old lady. I snatched the suitcase when the conveyor belt brought it around to me and grabbed the smaller duffel bag next to it before calmly walking towards the exit. I wanted to break out into a sprint, but anything out of the ordinary would draw attention, so I just kept my gait as steady as it could be.

Almost home free—just keep walking.

“Wait, I think you have my bag. Sir!” A woman’s voice called out behind me.

“Shit...” I muttered under my breath and pi

cked up the pace towards the exit.

The chaos at the baggage claim drew the attention of the two guards standing near the entrance, so they didn’t notice the woman yelling about her bag. I knew that wouldn’t last long once the woman realized I was intentionally stealing her luggage and not making a simple mistake. I pulled the bag with wheels as fast as I could while clutching the duffel bag in my hand. My truck was parked at the end of the first row, so once I turned the corner, I felt like I was home free.

I shifted my head to the side so I could look behind me and saw a hand waving while brown hair blew in the wind. She was still chasing me. I pulled the bag with wheels off the ground and started moving at a faster pace when I got close to my truck. I knew there were cameras everywhere, but my license plate was covered in mud to avoid anyone getting the number. I tossed both suitcases into the truck and pulled out of the parking space as the woman turned the corner. She looked around quickly, but she didn’t spot me as I drove away.

“Fucking hell...” I reached into my pocket for a cigarette and then remembered I was out.

Fuck!

Chapter 3: Peoria

T he plane ride happened . I knew it did because I woke up an hour later in Las Vegas. It took me a few minutes to realize that I had been out for a lot longer than an hour and it was just the time difference that had gotten me there so quickly. The Valium had me knocked out before the plane ever got into the air, and while I was thankful I didn’t have to deal with the anxiety of my first flight, I was also a little sad that I missed it. I couldn’t even see straight when I got my carry-on bag and followed Fiona off the plane. I just focused on the maroon t-shirt she was wearing and tried to avoid stumbling into walls as we headed into the airport.

The terminal in Las Vegas was a lot more chaotic than the one in Atlanta—at least from what I could tell. My feet were practically numb as I tried to keep walking behind Fiona. I spotted a bench and it was like my body was drawn to it. Before I even knew what was happening, I was sitting down and feeling my head drop down against my chest.

“Peoria, come on.” Fiona’s hand shook my shoulder. “We have to go get our bags. If we miss the shuttle, we’ll be stuck here for another hour.”

“I just need a nap. Give me a few minutes.” I put my hand on the hard surface of the bench and started to stretch out.

“Oh my god.” Fiona put her hand under my arm and tried to drag me back to my feet. “You took a Valium, not a sleeping pill.”

“I took two.” I yawned and stretched out my arms, trying to pull away from her.

“Two? One was for the plane ride home. Ugh!” Fiona pulled on my arm. “Stand up, you need to move around some so you’ll wake up.”

“I’m moving around—can’t you see? I’m walking in a straight line.” My feet shifted against the floor.

“You’re not walking. Stand up, Peoria!” Fiona’s tone got angry and it brought me back to my senses a little bit.

“Okay, I’m up.” I stood and yawned again.