Travis stripped down to his Skivvies and disappeared into the bathroom. The shower turned on and America handed me a box of tissues.
“I’m fine, Mare.”
She sighed and pushed the box at me once again. “You’re not fine.”
“This is not my first rodeo with Benny,” I said. My muscles were sore from twenty-four hours of stress-induced tension.
“It’s your first time to watch Travis go apeshit on someone,” Shepley said. “I’ve seen it once before. It’s not pretty.”
“What happened?” America insisted.
“Mick called Benny. Passed accountability on to me.”
“I’m gonna kill him! I’m going to kill that sorry son of a bitch!” America shouted.
“He’s not holding me responsible, but he was going to teach Mick a lesson for sending his daughter to pay off his debt. He called two of his damned dogs on us, and Travis took them out. Both of them. In under five minutes.”
“So Benny let you go?” America asked.
Travis appeared from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, the only evidence of his scuffle a small red mark on his cheekbone below his right eye. “One of the guys I knocked out had a fight tomorrow night. I’m taking his place and
in return Benny will forgive the last five K Mick owes.”
America stood up. “This is ridiculous! Why are we helping Mick, Abby? He threw you to the wolves! I’m going to kill him!”
“Not if I kill him first,” Travis seethed.
“Get in line,” I said.
“So you’re fighting tomorrow?” Shepley asked.
“At a place called Zero’s. Six o’clock. It’s Brock McMann, Shep.”
Shepley shook his head. “No way. No fucking way, Trav. The guy’s a maniac!”
“Yeah,” Travis said, “but he’s not fighting for his girl, is he?” Travis cradled me in his arms, kissing the top of my hair. “You okay, Pigeon?”
“This is wrong. This is wrong on so many levels. I don’t know which one to talk you out of first.”
“Did you not see me tonight? I’m going to be fine. I’ve seen Brock fight before. He’s tough, but not unbeatable.”
“I don’t want you to do this, Trav.”
“Well, I don’t want you to go to dinner with your ex-boyfriend tomorrow night. I guess we both have to do something unpleasant to save your good-for-nothing father.”
I had seen it before. Vegas changed people, creating monsters and broken men. It was easy to let the lights and stolen dreams seep into your blood. I had seen the energized, invincible look on Travis’s face many times growing up, and the only cure was a plane ride home.
· · ·
Jesse frowned when I looked at my watch again.
“You have somewhere to be, Cookie?” Jesse asked.
“Please stop calling me that, Jesse. I hate it.”
“I hated it when you left, too. Didn’t stop you.”
“This is a tired, worn-out conversation. Let’s just have dinner, okay?”