off her light and closed her eyes. She was tired—more tired than she’d realized—and yet sleep was still elusive. Ten minutes went by. Then fifteen.
Her mind was too busy concentrating on the sounds the man beside her made—not that he made much sound at all, but every shift of his body on the mattress, no matter how slight, created a disturbance that rolled through her. He was also reading on his phone. She could tell because of the light pressing against her eyes.
“Why were you in Vegas?” she finally asked, needing to hear the sound of his voice. Needing to know she wasn’t on her own. She wasn’t afraid of being alone, not usually, but now that she’d been betrayed by someone in the agency, she felt completely without connections to anything or anyone. She didn’t like that feeling.
It’s your own fault, a voice whispered in her head. You broke ties with your sisters, your parents.
Yes, she had. And she didn’t regret it. Not usually.
“I was visiting family.”
She opened her eyes and gazed up at his handsome profile. “In the Venetian?”
He was silent for a moment. “I was looking for someone.”
It hit her then that perhaps he had a girlfriend, or even a wife. What if he’d been looking for a woman? And she’d interrupted him. Taken him away before he could meet whomever he was meeting.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your plans,” she said. It was a lame apology—and a late one—but it was the best she could do. Though if she’d taken him away from another woman, she wasn’t sorry for it. She should be, but she wasn’t.
“No plans.” He sighed. “I was looking for my mother. She has a habit of disappearing into the Vegas scene and upsetting my grandparents.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. “I’m sorry I interrupted your search then.”
And she really was. It was clear he wasn’t happy about what his mother had done. If she hadn’t interfered, he might even now be reunited with his mom.
“Don’t be. She doesn’t want to be found anyway. Plus I’m fucking tired of looking every time she goes off the rails. If it weren’t for Gramps and Grandma, I wouldn’t do it.”
“My mother is an alcoholic,” she said and then wanted to bite her tongue. Where the fuck had that come from? She didn’t share those things with anyone. Not ever. It was a life she’d left behind, a life she didn’t want or need.
“Mine probably is too, but she’s always hidden it so well. She can stop for weeks at a time. Then she inevitably goes on another bender, and the shit hits the fan.”
“I don’t remember my mother ever not drinking,” Miranda said, her throat tight. The utter dysfunction of the Lockwood family as her mother drank all day and her father came home with coal staining his skin, spitting mad and ready to tear into his wife and kids, was seared into her soul forever. The utter fucking misery of it all would never be washed away. That was why she’d never gone back again. Why she couldn’t.
“She hit the bottle all day long,” she continued. “Whatever cheap shit she could beg, borrow, or steal. And when she couldn’t get her vodka, she’d drink cough syrup for the alcohol content. It wasn’t a good substitute though.”
“I’m sorry you had to grow up that way. It’s not fair to the kids.”
“No.” She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. It was dark, except for his phone, which made the situation seem cozy and safe. She knew it wasn’t, and yet she wanted to talk. For once in her life, she wanted to share it with someone. Blame it on the stress of her current circumstances.
“I have five sisters. We were left alone a lot, and that’s fine when you’re kids in the country. There’s plenty to do when your life revolves around fields and streams. We’d take off in the morning and wouldn’t come home until late. Daddy worked the coal mines, and his hours were erratic. I think I sometimes went for days without seeing an adult, truth be
Her mind was too busy concentrating on the sounds the man beside her made—not that he made much sound at all, but every shift of his body on the mattress, no matter how slight, created a disturbance that rolled through her. He was also reading on his phone. She could tell because of the light pressing against her eyes.
“Why were you in Vegas?” she finally asked, needing to hear the sound of his voice. Needing to know she wasn’t on her own. She wasn’t afraid of being alone, not usually, but now that she’d been betrayed by someone in the agency, she felt completely without connections to anything or anyone. She didn’t like that feeling.
It’s your own fault, a voice whispered in her head. You broke ties with your sisters, your parents.
Yes, she had. And she didn’t regret it. Not usually.
“I was visiting family.”
She opened her eyes and gazed up at his handsome profile. “In the Venetian?”
He was silent for a moment. “I was looking for someone.”
It hit her then that perhaps he had a girlfriend, or even a wife. What if he’d been looking for a woman? And she’d interrupted him. Taken him away before he could meet whomever he was meeting.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your plans,” she said. It was a lame apology—and a late one—but it was the best she could do. Though if she’d taken him away from another woman, she wasn’t sorry for it. She should be, but she wasn’t.
“No plans.” He sighed. “I was looking for my mother. She has a habit of disappearing into the Vegas scene and upsetting my grandparents.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. “I’m sorry I interrupted your search then.”
And she really was. It was clear he wasn’t happy about what his mother had done. If she hadn’t interfered, he might even now be reunited with his mom.
“Don’t be. She doesn’t want to be found anyway. Plus I’m fucking tired of looking every time she goes off the rails. If it weren’t for Gramps and Grandma, I wouldn’t do it.”
“My mother is an alcoholic,” she said and then wanted to bite her tongue. Where the fuck had that come from? She didn’t share those things with anyone. Not ever. It was a life she’d left behind, a life she didn’t want or need.
“Mine probably is too, but she’s always hidden it so well. She can stop for weeks at a time. Then she inevitably goes on another bender, and the shit hits the fan.”
“I don’t remember my mother ever not drinking,” Miranda said, her throat tight. The utter dysfunction of the Lockwood family as her mother drank all day and her father came home with coal staining his skin, spitting mad and ready to tear into his wife and kids, was seared into her soul forever. The utter fucking misery of it all would never be washed away. That was why she’d never gone back again. Why she couldn’t.
“She hit the bottle all day long,” she continued. “Whatever cheap shit she could beg, borrow, or steal. And when she couldn’t get her vodka, she’d drink cough syrup for the alcohol content. It wasn’t a good substitute though.”
“I’m sorry you had to grow up that way. It’s not fair to the kids.”
“No.” She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. It was dark, except for his phone, which made the situation seem cozy and safe. She knew it wasn’t, and yet she wanted to talk. For once in her life, she wanted to share it with someone. Blame it on the stress of her current circumstances.
“I have five sisters. We were left alone a lot, and that’s fine when you’re kids in the country. There’s plenty to do when your life revolves around fields and streams. We’d take off in the morning and wouldn’t come home until late. Daddy worked the coal mines, and his hours were erratic. I think I sometimes went for days without seeing an adult, truth be
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