27. Charlotte

27

CHARLOTTE

W e get into Vegas around eleven in the morning, three days before Halloween. We spent one more night in the most out-of-the-way motel we could find, with Ivan sleeping near the door in case of trouble. But for once, there was no trouble. The night passed without incident, and even though I didn't sleep well, I did get some sleep.

I fell asleep again after breakfast, nodding off as Ivan turned onto the highway that would lead us into Vegas. My hoodie was tossed in the backseat, the day warm enough that I no longer needed it. A quick glance at the dashboard of the Bronco told me that the temperature outside had climbed to seventy degrees—downright balmy after the days and nights spent driving through the northern part of the country.

The bright sunlight wakes me up after a little while, just outside of the city. I look out of the window, and my eyes widen as I see the landscape around us.

Red dirt—desert and cliffs, stretch out on either side of the road. I lean my forehead against the glass window, staring at it, and I hear Ivan chuckle next to me.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" There's something soft in Ivan's voice that makes me think he's not entirely talking about the landscape.

"I've never seen anything like it before." I've never seen the desert outside of movies. I'd always imagined it to be dusty and flat, but while there is a decent bit of flat space, the reddish cliff formations and the view spreading out to the horizon is remarkably beautiful. "It's so much better than I thought it would be." I turn to look at him. "You've been out here before, right?"

"To Vegas? Plenty of times." Ivan rotates his hands on the steering wheel, cracking his neck. "Business, pleasure, you name it. I'm familiar with the city. Which is a good thing."

I try not to think about the spark of jealousy that the way he says pleasure lights in me. I shouldn't care who else he's been with, what kind of pleasures he sought out on other trips. That shouldn't matter to me at all. But I feel the hot stab of it, all the same.

I turn back to the window, trying to shift my focus back to the view to quell the churning emotions. The desert stretches out for miles all around us, endless and more mesmerizing than I could have imagined, but my mind keeps drifting back to what kind of pleasures Ivan might have sought out in Vegas before.

Which also makes me wonder what he'll seek out after I'm gone. Regardless of how obsessed he became with me, regardless of all the things he's said to me, Ivan is no saint. He'll find another woman. He'll forget about me. And the thought of him in bed with someone else, his hands and mouth trailing over someone else's skin, makes me feel nauseous.

I clear my throat, forcing my mind away from that and to a different, more pertinent subject.

"So, what's the plan once we get there?" My voice sounds strained, even to my own ears, but I hope that Ivan doesn't notice.

Ivan glances over at me. "We'll check into a hotel. The Wynn has top-tier security, floors where the billionaires stay, accessible with only a keycard. Bradley will have to have a warrant to get any camera footage, and Lev will have to invoke some serious favors if he wants to get to us. And even if Bradley does have a warrant, and even if Lev does throw his weight around, I will have paid someone to keep an eye out for us. We'll be warned, if someone is coming. Money talks in Vegas, and I have plenty of it."

The cool confidence in his voice does something to me. I feel a flip in my stomach, a rush of adrenaline, and I swallow hard, trying not to think about the possibility of being alone with Ivan in a luxury room. A room meant for sin and excess, meant for all the pleasures that he hinted at earlier.

"And after that?"

"Once we're checked in, I'll contact my associate. Then we can get cleaned up, get a good meal, and I'll find out how long before we can get the new IDs and such." Ivan glances over at me. "We're in the homestretch now. It's going to be fine."

There's something strained about the way he says those last words, and it makes me uneasy. "You're sure this person can help us?" He must be, I think, or we wouldn't have come all this way. But now that the moment is all but here, I feel that fearful sense of overwhelm that's threatened to swallow me up before. This sounds dangerous, like something out of a movie. Not the kind of thing I ever thought I'd be involved in. "You trust them?"

Ivan smirks. "Trust is a strong word in my world. But I know them well. I've done business with them before. And they make it their job to do exactly what we need. What I pay them will make it worth their while to ensure that we get that without too much trouble."

I nod, turning it all over in my head. The past days of fast food, twenty-four-hour grocery stores, and shitty motels made me forget that Ivan is insanely wealthy. I don't know how wealthy, but someone who owns an Aston Martin plus the other cars he has must have plenty. And the way he talks about money makes me think that we could stay in Vegas for a long time, and not need to worry about it.

My heart is racing as the city looms ahead of us, a glittering mirage at the edge of the desert. Even in the bright daylight, it's overwhelming, almost shocking, after days of long, open roads and small backwoods towns. It feels like being thrust abruptly back into civilization, and it's strange.

"Look at that," Ivan says with a grin. "Sin City in all its glory."

The noise is a shock, too, as we merge onto the crowded freeway, cars speeding past us. The road ahead is suddenly filled with sleek sports cars and luxury sedans, and I bite my lip as I look out of the window, a part of me wishing that we had more time to explore.

"We won't be able to do much, will we?" I ask wistfully, and Ivan frowns.

"We'll see. Depending on how long it takes for us to actually meet with my contact, we might have a day or two in the city. And as far as what we can do—" Ivan drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "It's a big place. Loud and bright and full of people. It's a place to hide, but it's also a place where we could be surprised. So we'll just have to play it by ear."

Even in the bright daylight, the Las Vegas Strip is a carnival of light and sound. I'm no stranger to skyscrapers and cityscapes—I've lived a good part of my life in downtown Chicago—but everything about this place is so much more . Everything here seems meant to stand out—a recreation of the Eiffel Tower, a pyramid, a huge fountain, a rollercoaster twisting around one of the resorts. Much like the desert surrounding it, Vegas is something I've seen in movies before, but nothing can quite compare to seeing it in reality.

"I really want to explore." I bite my lip, looking around and trying to drink in as much as I can, as Ivan turns off the main road. "Surely, if we're careful?—"

"We'll see," Ivan repeats, firmly. "We haven't come all this way to put ourselves in unnecessary danger now, Charlotte. This is the final step before we're free. But—" He pauses, and I can tell that he wants to say yes. That he wants to make me happy. "I'll do my best to make it possible."

I nod, shoving down the disappointment I feel at the possibility that I might have to just stay holed up in our room. I know I'm being a little childish—the room is no doubt going to be nicer than anything I've ever stayed in before. Probably nicer than my apartment. But I desperately want to explore every glittering attraction and colorful casino that Vegas has to offer, and I can't help but feel a pang of frustration that I might end up with it just within arm's length, but unable to explore.

A new experience is right here, and I want to enjoy it. But Ivan is right. We haven't spent all of this time covering our tracks and committing crimes just to get pinched in Vegas at the last moment.

We pass by several of the resorts, including a half-moon-shaped one with Wynn written at the top in curving script, and I frown. "Isn't that where we're going?"

"It is. But I can hardly hand a stolen, hotwired car over to the valet." Ivan looks over at me, smirking. "We're going to drop this somewhere less populated, over in the older part of Vegas. And then we'll get a taxi back here."

"Oh." That makes sense. I feel a little stupid for not thinking of that, but Ivan doesn't say anything more about it. He just keeps driving, as the scenery gets less polished and glittering and more weathered. We drive past a casino called the Golden Nugget , past some less glamorous shops, as Ivan turns into a neighborhood that looks much more ordinary than anything we've driven past so far since getting to Vegas.

"We'll leave it here," Ivan says, getting out of the car to unhook the battery. "I'll wipe it down, and then we'll catch a cab back to the Strip. Grab anything you want."

I make a face at the plastic Walmart bags still holding our single change of clothes, the leftover pain medication, and the one burner phone that Ivan hasn't used yet. He follows my gaze, and grins at me.

"We'll go shopping," he says, and even though I never thought of myself as a clotheshorse like Zoe, the thought of new , stylish clothes makes my heart jump in my chest. "I have plenty of cash, and we can at least do that. You'll have clothes that you actually like to wear."

"That sounds amazing," I tell him honestly, and his grin instantly spreads into a smile that looks as if making me happy has made his entire day. It makes me pause, because it startles me that my happiness could have that much of an effect on him. "Let's go."

It doesn't take Ivan long to quickly clean the interior, erasing all traces of our presence. I grab the bags, glancing back at the car once more before we walk away quickly, Ivan keeping an eye out for anyone who might have seen us with the Bronco.

I don't like to think about what he might do if someone did see us, so I force that thought from my mind before it can entirely take shape. That's the last thing I want to think about.

The day is warm, pleasantly so after the chill of the last several. The air is much dryer than what I'm accustomed to, and I swear I can feel the static, feel my hair frizzing as I follow Ivan back to the main road, where we can hail a cab.

"Stay close," he says, raising a hand as a yellow taxi comes around the corner.

I can't help but look around, anxiety churning in my gut, half-expecting Bradley or Lev to pop out of a corner at any moment. But they don't, and a second later, we're safely ensconced in the taxi, with Ivan giving the driver directions to take us to the Wynn.

I know I should play it cool, but I can't stop looking at the scenery. Even here, in what Ivan called the ‘older' part of Vegas, it's eye-catching in a different kind of way. There's an old, retro sort of vibe to this part of town, with buskers and street performers hanging out under neon signs that haven't been lit up yet, the casinos and restaurants weathered in a way that still somehow feels exotic.

And then, when we make it back to the Strip, I suck in a breath as I take it all in again.

The cab driver glances in his rear-view mirror, clearly amused. He catches my eye, and I force myself not to wince. The last thing we need to do is draw attention to ourselves, and here I am, already doing that.

"First time in Vegas?" he asks, and I start to answer automatically, but Ivan cuts in.

"The first for her," he says with a companionable grin. "It's our anniversary. I wanted to surprise her with it."

The lie is so smooth that I would almost believe it, if I didn't know better. I force a smile to my lips, playing along. "It was such a surprise, too. I'm so happy."

I suppose the first part isn't entirely a lie. I was surprised to wake up in that first hotel room, and find out that I was going to Vegas with Ivan.

The driver pulls up in front of the Wynn, and Ivan hands him a thick wad of cash. Far more than I think the trip warranted, but it's definitely enough that I bet the driver will forget that he saw us.

I grab the plastic bags, staring up at the huge, curving facade of the casino. I feel a flush of embarrassment at the idea of walking into this ritzy place carrying two Walmart bags, but I forget all about it the moment we step inside.

It's like no hotel I've ever been to. The entrance almost reminds me of a wedding aisle, slick white marble fringed with arches of trees wrapped in ropes of lights, huge, brightly colored balls the size of beach balls hanging from the top branches, also webbed with lights. There's potted greenery and flowers everywhere, filling the lobby with a thick floral scent as Ivan leads me up to the marble-topped check-in, where I hang back slightly as he gets us a room. I see a bar over to one side, all red with black chairs and glass-topped tables, and I wonder if we could walk over there for a drink with a kind of longing that I know is me yearning for the life I had before this.

A life I'm never going to get back, at least not the way it was.

Two arched staircases lead up to the second floor. Ivan motions towards them, glancing at me, and I follow as he takes the keycards from the receptionist.

"Elevators can be dangerous," he says quietly, under his breath, as we walk towards the stairs. "Someone can catch us at a stop, get on, and we're trapped in there with them. This is more open. A little safer."

My leg muscles, still sore from the wreck, aren't thrilled at the idea of climbing stairs, but I don't argue. I distract myself instead by looking around as we walk up, taking in the luxurious, opulent surroundings. We walk past shops and through the main casino floor, the chime of slot machines filling the air. There's a haze of smoke, too, which surprises me—I've never been anywhere that it was possible to smoke inside before.

Ivan guides me through the casino floor to a set of elevators. "These require a keycard to access," he explains, as he swipes ours. "Safer. They'll take us to one of the high-roller suites, which are the most secure in the casino. We'll be safer there than anywhere else."

Based on the fact that there's armed security on the floor that we get off on, waiting for Ivan to show his keycard, I believe him. He flashes it, leading me down the hall to a door, where he holds the card up again, and a light flashes green. When he opens the door, we're in a room that's like nothing I've ever been in before.

"Welcome to one of the high-roller suites in Vegas," Ivan says with a grin as he steps inside. "Back in the lap of luxury."