“Let’s go,” I call to Sasha. She unbuckles herself and stands up. I wave her forward to exit ahead of me, but she shakes her head.
No trust.
I go first and shake Harrison’s hand on the tarmac. Sasha, to my surprise, does the same. She says, “Thank you,” in a very polite little-girl way that makes me wonder.
Is that all she is? Or is she the killer I imagine her to be?
She walks up next to me and her gaze finds my face. “Now what?”
I slide my shades down to cover my eyes and then blow out a breath of air. I don’t want to think about what’s next. I just need to forget for a day. “What do you need, Sasha?”
“Huh?”
I turn and start walking towards the casino. She follows. “Are you hungry?”
She almost snorts. “Hungry?” She laughs again. “I’m wondering how long I have to live. The last thing on my mind is the breakfast buffet at the Gold Strike.”
“OK,” I say, giving up. “We’re going home then.” She laughs at that word too. And it’s absurd, right? Home. It’s not my home, it’s not her home. It’s just a place I keep in the desert to dry out after the kill. A place where the sun can bake the dirt off my skin and boil away the bad blood.
“I have no home, James Fenici. I have nothing. I’m here because other people control my destiny. I have no free will, or opinions, or dreams. I exist only for orders. Right now, your orders. Is that what you’re looking for? Is that what you want? Obedience? Surrender?”
“You wanna walk away?” I stop and look back at her, raising my sunglasses so she can see my eyes. “There’s the f**king door. Ya can’t miss it.” I pan my arm out towards the desert across the 15 freeway. “I’m just the delivery guy, Sasha.”
“That sounds like a declaration of innocence, to me. Or at the very least, non-affiliation. And we both know that’s about as far from the truth as you can get. You’re nothing if not affiliated, James. You’re nothing if not guilty.”
“Whatever,” I say, giving in and letting her win. “Let’s just find our ride.”
My heart’s not in the fight anymore.
My heart’s tired of fighting.
I turn and continue walking towards the Gold Strike Casino and I don’t look back. But when the doors whoosh open, the little Smurfette follows me inside.
We get about ten paces before security stops me. “What?” I ask, annoyed.
The guy is big, bald, and has a look to him that says professional. He nods behind me so I turn. Sasha is peeking around another equally professional-looking guard. “I can’t come in!” she says in an uneven voice.
So she is a kid. The little brat isn’t as cool as she seems. “All right,” I tell the guard. “Sorry, I’m not used to having her around. I just forgot. We’re hitting the buffet anyway.”
I backtrack, pluck her by the shirt, and steer her to the right where the restaurant is. We don’t wait to be seated because there’s a sign that says, Seat Yourself, and I choose a booth that faces the front of the casino.
Sasha slides in her side of the booth and I grab two menus from behind the salt-and-pepper shakers and flop one down in front of her.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re a bad liar, Sasha. Besides, you hinted on the plane you’ve been starving for months. So cut the martyr act and pick some food.”
The waitress comes a few minutes later and I order myself a coffee and her an orange juice, then go back to the menu. “What’re you getting?” I get the silent treatment, so I lower my menu to look her. Her eyebrows are knitted together so tightly I have to laugh. “Just choose some breakfast.”
“I thought you were in a hurry to get home.” Her accent on the word is meant to be mocking. But you don’t need to be a mind-reader to understand that’s longing and not contempt.
“We need a ride. I can’t call a taxi from around here, they’d remember us. I can’t steal a car, we’re lying low. And we can’t walk, it’s too far. So we gotta wait for the right opportunity. And that won’t be for another few hours.”
The waitress comes with our drinks and Sasha gulps hers down as I order the buffet for both of us. “Might as well fill up before we go.”
“What opportunity are we waiting for?” Sasha asks as she sets down her empty orange juice and wipes her mouth.
I smile at her. “Patience, Smurfette. Watch and learn from the master. Come on.” We scoot out and go grab food from the buffet. Say what you want about Vegas, but these people know how to do up the all-you-can-eat buffet.
Sasha gets a plate of everything. I’ve never seen a kid eat so much in my life. Actually, this girl gives every grown man in the place a run for his money. She goes back for fourths. But it passes the time until a little past two a group of loud old ladies come in. Ready to chow down after a day of bingo and slots.
Sasha catches me watching them and kicks me under the table. “Don’t stare at them.”
I empty my fourth cup of coffee and throw a twenty down on the table. “Come on, that’s our cue.”
“What cue?”
She stays sitting, but I get up and walk away. If she’s gonna hang around she needs to learn to follow. She’s been on her own too long, and that’s not good. She’s rogue. And that’s worse. Because if she’s not trying to get me killed with her secrets and setups, then she’s valuable to me and I might keep her around. But only if she can follow directions. The last thing I need is Soldier Smurf going AWOL when I need her the most. I get all the way to the front door before I hear her flip flops behind me.