James Swain - Take Down

“Hanging out with my family, doing crap around the house, working on my dice switch,” Travis said. “You won’t recognize it the next time I move.”

“You going to videotape yourself?” Billy asked.

“I was planning on it,” Travis said.

“Practice keeping your thumb still.”

“I’ll do that.”

“How about you?” Billy asked Gabe.

“I’m going to drive down to San Diego to see my ex and the girls,” Gabe said. “I texted her this morning, and she seemed okay with it. I was hoping to shower her with money, you know, just to show her I wasn’t the biggest loser that ever lived, but I think it’s better that I don’t. I’ll send her some later.”

“I hope it goes okay,” he said.

“Me, too. Look, Billy, I’ve got to get something off my chest. I’ve had it up to my eyeballs with Cory and Morris. We all make mistakes, but those two… no.”

“Anything in particular bothering you?”

“Yeah. Cory came into the casino without his disguise. When I asked him why, he said he forgot to put it on.”

“Was that his excuse? Jesus.”

“You know about it, then.”

“It came up during my chat with the gaming board. How about you?”

“I feel the same way,” Travis said. “They’re going to ruin us one day if we’re not careful.”

“Had enough, huh?” Billy said.

Both men said they’d had.

He found Cory and Morris in the backyard smoking a joint so fat it could have passed as a small cigar. Seeing Billy come out the back door, Cory ground the joint into the grass while his partner kept the last puff trapped in his lungs. Billy had told them they were not allowed to get high during a job, yet they’d kept right on doing it. Their stupidity was making his decision a lot easier.

“Get over here. Both of you,” he said.

They shuffled over, embarrassed. There was no reason to beat around the bush, so he laid into them. “You guys have been fucking up a lot lately. First at the golf course, then Cory forgets to put on his disguise when you parked the rental behind the casino. The gaming board made you. It’s a miracle I got you off. You could have screwed the whole thing up.”

They hung their heads in shame. Morris let the smoke go and started hacking.

“We’ll make it up to you,” Cory promised.

“Yeah, we’ll do you right,” Morris said.

“It’s too late for that. I’m cutting you both loose. You’ll get your money when we cut up the score, and that’s it. No more jobs. You’re done.”

“You’re not going to give us another chance?” Cory asked.

Billy shook his head and thought they might cry. He went inside without saying good-bye, grabbed the strongbox off the kitchen table, and headed out the front door. As he placed the strongbox in the trunk, they came up from behind.

“Quit following me,” he said.

“Come on, Billy, we’ve been loyal,” Cory said.

“Soldiers to the end,” Morris said.

“You want my advice? Go back to college and get degrees in hospitality management. It’s all you’re good for.”

“No, Billy,” they both said.

“Or slinging drinks in a bar. You could do that. I let you join my crew, teach you everything I know, and what do I get in return? A bunch of high school fucking jive artists who can’t remember to put on their fucking disguises before they walk into a joint. You’re both a disgrace. Now get out of my way before I run you over, which is what I want to do right now.”

They jumped onto the grass next to the curb. Billy got in and fired up the engine. His heart was beating out of control, his hands shaking on the wheel. He didn’t need this, and he shot them an angry look through the passenger window. They took it the wrong way and brought their faces up to the glass, thinking he was going to give them another chance to make things right again.

He sped away, refusing to look back.

His heart was still pounding as he pulled into the parking lot of Ly’s motel. He’d had members of his crew leave before, usually for personal reasons, but he’d never had to fire anyone. Cutting Cory and Morris loose was tearing him apart, and he didn’t know why.

He rapped softly on the door to Ly’s room. He’d promised to drive Ly to LA and didn’t see any reason to wait. He needed to get her out of Vegas before the gaming board ran her down and held her feet to the fire.

“Go away, or I’ll call the cops,” a woman that wasn’t Ly said through the door.

He backed away from the door, knowing he was being watched through the peephole.

“Sorry.”

He walked around the building and entered the tiny office that served as registration. The young Latina working the desk was the same one who’d checked him in, a tough little number with lots of makeup. She unplugged herself from an iPod and arched her eyebrows.

“Have you seen my friend? She isn’t answering her door.”

“Your Asian friend checked out,” the Latina said.

Ly didn’t have enough money to buy a bus ticket, and Billy wondered where she’d gone.

“Did she say where she was going?”

“I don’t like to get involved with people’s business,” the Latina said, “but since you paid for her room, I’ll tell you. Your friend met a guy in the restaurant, a software salesman out of Reno. He stays here a lot. Your friend left with him.”

“You don’t say. Decent guy?”

“The women seem to like him.”

That solved that problem. He started to back out of the office. The Latina wasn’t done with him. “You had another visitor. She’s still here.”

“Who’s that?”

The Latina said, “Try the pool,” and plugged herself back in.

He walked around the building to a metal gate that required a room key for entrance, and hopped over it. The pool was deserted except for a beautiful woman sound asleep in a lounge chair. As he drew closer, the breath caught in his throat. It was Mags.

A tired smile formed at the corners of his mouth. He’d wanted to strangle her a few days ago, but those feelings had faded away. She’d stepped up to the plate when it counted, and shown her true colors. And when she’d gotten sprung out of jail, she’d run straight to him.

His smile grew. He realized that it had all been worth it-the beatings, getting thrown in jail, the whole nine yards. He’d do it again if it meant Maggie Flynn would be waiting for him when it was all over. If that wasn’t a definition of a fool in love, he didn’t know what was.

“Hey.”

Her eyes snapped open. She stood up slowly, uncertain of where they stood.

“I never thought you’d come,” she said.

“I was tying up some loose ends. How’d you find me?”

“I asked your lawyer after he bailed me out of jail. He said a friend of yours was holed up here, that you might come by.”

“My friend split.”

“So I heard. God, do you smell rank. You need a good bath.”

It sounded like an invitation. He didn’t know what to say, and just stared.

“I rented a room. Want to see it?”

They showered together, soaping down each other’s bodies beneath the steaming spray. His body was tense and it took a while before he relaxed. He’d been in some tight spots, but nothing like what he’d just gone through. For the next few hours he was going to pretend that it had never happened and that the brutal memories banging around in his head weren’t real.

They toweled each other off. She led him into the bedroom while holding his prick. She was in control, and he was more than willing to be her slave. She told him to lose the bedspread, and he whisked it away like a nightclub magician and threw it on the floor.