My suitcase was royally fucked, and it wasn’t about to get un-fucked any time soon. With a sigh, I rolled up my sleeves, broadened my stance sumo-wrestler style, then slammed down onto the top of the suitcase in a bid to compress it. I landed on the yawning flap, but the suitcase was so stuffed that it didn’t make much of a difference.

Fuck.

“Are you having fun?” Monty asked. If I wasn’t, he certainly was. There was a laugh in his voice, like he found my antics amusing.

“I’ll have you know, since it seems like you’ve forgotten—” I gritted my teeth as I pushed against the flap of the suitcase with all my might, “—here in Rockport, suitcase wrestling is an official sport.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” I strained the word, slamming my elbow into the polyester. “It is.”

“Well, isn’t it a good thing you’re coming back to Vegas, then?” Monty chuckled. I glanced at my laptop screen, but his video display was black—blocked out by the tape he kept over his webcam. “The sports we pursue here are much more… physical.”

“Funny.” I grasped the zipper and tugged. Reluctantly, the teeth started to click in place, and I kept pulling as hard as I could to keep the slider going. “You and the boys have been getting along fine without me. I’m not exactly a team player.”

“But you are a player,” Monty said. He always spoke with gravity, like every damned word out of his mouth was important. “Whether in Vegas or abroad, you’re an important part of the team, Robin. It’ll be good to have you home.”

“Thanks.” The suitcase finally closed all the way. The front bulged forward in unsightly ways, but it was a detail I could live with. As long as the bag didn’t tip the scale at the airport, I was good to go. If the TSA wanted to search my bag, I wished them good fucking luck getting it zipped again. “You know, you can take the tape off your webcam when you talk to me, Monty. It’s not like I’m going to be stealing company secrets.”

“Not you, no… but I’d rather keep in the habit, thanks.”

I sighed. Monty had always been a little paranoid—not that it was a bad thing—but it meant that for almost three years, I hadn’t seen much of him.

“What are you going to do when I make it back to Vegas?” I asked. “Someone, sometime, somewhere is going to realize that something’s up with us, you know?”

There was a moment’s delay before Monty responded. I imagined him shrugging. “I’m not counting on it. The in-person meetings I hold are few and far between. Plus, I’ve taken measures to limit my presence.”

“Like the tape,” I said. I picked myself up from the suitcase and plucked a few times at my shirt, airing it out. The exertion to get the damned thing closed had left me sweaty and mildly sore. Fuck, did I need to get back into shape. Skinny and fit weren’t synonymous.

“Like the tape,” Monty agreed. “Don’t worry yourself, Robin. It will be fine. You’ve been gone for so long and worked so hard that it’s time to take a break. Come back to Vegas and let me take care of you.”

I snorted. “You’re starting to sound like my client.”

“Perhaps. But there’s a difference—”

“I know, I know.” I wiped the sweat from my brow and shook my head. Monty would be able to see me through my webcam. “It’s different now. Everything is. But I’ve done what I needed to do, and everything’s going to be okay. I’ll come spend some time with you in Vegas—you don’t have to twist my arm—but if things start going south with Mom—”

“Then you’re heading back to Rockport. I know.” Monty’s tone didn’t change. “I’m not going to twist your arm into staying. I never would. What you’re doing is…”

He didn’t need to say it—we both knew what he meant. A profound feeling of sorrow clenched in my heart, and for a moment, I was silent.

“You can’t be the hero all the time,” Monty told me softly. “Right now, for your own mental health, it’s important that you do something for you. Indulge in life while you’re still young. You’ve done so much for me… if I can help you in that small regard, then it’s the least I can do.”

“I just feel so fucking greedy, you know?” I sat on the bed beside the suitcase, watching the blacked-out display on my laptop screen where Monty’s face should have been. “I did what I did because I had to. Why should I be rewarded for it? People don’t celebrate other people for doing the shit they need to do.”

“You didn’t need to do it.”

“You know that’s a lie.” I sighed, letting it empty my chest and clear my head. “I’ve gotta hop on a plane in two hours, and you know what the drive to the airport is like.”

“I won’t keep you,” Monty said. “I’ll have a car waiting at the airport. The driver will be holding a sign for M. R. Would you like me to text you his details?”

“Please.” I got up from the bed and pulled the suitcase down. Its plastic wheels clattered on the floor. “And if you haven’t already seen to it, can you make sure that the pantry and fridge in my condo isn’t empty? When I wake up tomorrow morning, I’m going to hate my life if there isn’t coffee and creamer.”

“Of course.”

I made sure the suitcase was balanced on its wheels, then moved to the computer. In its black display, I saw my reflection. Dark, messy hair, slender, elegant angles, and worried eyes. Shit. Monty was right—I could use some time off.

“I’ll see you a little later,” I told him, setting a hand on top of the screen. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Monty chuckled. “I don’t think we’ll have a problem. Be safe.”

“Always am.” I winked.

“You’ve got your wallet?” Mom asked.

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, noticing the way her pixie-cut short dark hair whipped in the wind. Her window was cracked open as we raced down the highway, and the whoosh of moving air was almost deafening.

“I’ve got my wallet, Mom,” I promised.

“And your phone?” she pressed. “You’ll need your phone so your brother can get in touch with you.”

“I’ve got my phone.”

“And your carry-on?” Her fingers tightened around the hand grip on the door, like she was afraid I might remember I’d forgotten something and make a U-turn on the interstate to go reclaim it. “Do you have your liquids packed in your check-in luggage? Because they don’t let you take them through security anymore. You don’t want to be pulled aside.”

“Mom,” I said with a laugh. I rolled up the window with a press of the door button, cutting out the noise of the wind so we could talk more easily. “It’s okay. I’ve got it handled. This isn’t my first flight. I promise, I’ll be okay.”

My reassurance didn’t placate her. “I’m your mother. I worry. It’s my job.”

“And my job is to make you worry as much as possible, I’m sure.” Traffic grew thicker and started to back up. I slowed accordingly. The airport wasn’t far. “But, I’ll have you know that I’ve made it out the last few years of my life unscathed, all kinds of travel included. The only person you need to worry about is yourself.”

She made a non-committal noise.

“If it bothers you, I’ll stay,” I told her. “You were the one pushing me to get out of the house for a while, but I’d gladly turn around and drive back to Rockport with you if you feel you’re not ready to do this on your own.”

“Don’t you dare.” The worry in her voice turned to staunch refusal. She crossed her arms over her chest. “After everything you’ve done, you deserve to have some fun and live your own life. You can’t stay cooped up at home forever. There’s so much more waiting for you out there than what Rockport can offer you.” She pushed her fingers through her hair, trying to brush it back into some semblance of neatness. These days, it was looking more thin and brittle than it ever had before, but Mom had never been the kind to wear wigs. “Besides, if you don’t go, who will look after Monty for me? It’s been three years, and they don’t call it Sin City for nothing.”

I almost choked trying to hold back my laughter. Oh, god. If only she knew…

“Mom?” I asked. “You’re aware Monty isn’t eight anymore, right? He’s an adult now. I’m not going to be policing his ‘sleepovers.’”

I only caught Mom’s expression from the corner of my eye, but I was pretty sure she was holding back laughter, too. “Oh, I know. I didn’t mean sex, Robin. Sex is a wonderful, beautiful thing if it’s shared between two or more consenting adults.”

“Or more?” My cheeks went red. “Oh my god, Mom…”

“What?” I was pretty sure she was trying to embarrass me on purpose at this point. “There’s nothing wrong with having more than one partner as long as you’re crystal clear with everyone involved what’s going on. In fact, your father and I—”

“Oh my god,” I squeaked. I liked to think of myself as a pretty open-minded individual—casual sex, multiple partners, toys, kink… all of it was fine by me. Even if I wasn’t into it, most of the time, I could understand the appeal. But hearing my mom talk about her sexual adventures with Dad? That was something I couldn’t handle. “Mom, I love you, but I need you to stop talking right now. You probably don’t want to keep teasing the son who’s driving a ton-and-a-half deathtrap at sixty in heavy traffic.”

“Well then, I’ll cut it short.” She returned a hand to the grip on the door. “Sex isn’t a sin, and I don’t want you to police it. What I want to make sure of is that you keep Monty on the straight and narrow—don’t let him get involved in the darker side of the city. That’s not something I want for either of you. Can you do that for me?”

“Mom…” Guilt raked its fingernails down the back of my skull. I spared her another glance before locking my eyes on the road again. If sex wasn’t a sin, then what did we have to worry about? Monty’s business was aboveboard. He reported his income and paid taxes, just like anyone else. Nothing shady was going on—both of us had too much to lose to let illegal practices shut us down. “I’ll make sure to keep an eye on him, okay?”

“Good boy.”

I sighed.

“And,” she added, “just to let you know, if I find out you and Monty have been misbehaving out there in Vegas, you can expect me on the next plane so I can come smack you both upside the head.”

“I believe it, Mom.” The turnoff for the airport was coming. I checked over my shoulder, then merged into the indicated lane. “Trust me, neither of us are looking to be that bad.”

“That’s good.” I heard the mischief in her voice. “Because if you were, then I’d have no choice but to supplement the smackdown you’d receive with a few things your father taught me about tying someone up, when we were young and f—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What did I say about the ton-and-a-half deathtrap?” Fuck. At least I knew where I got it from. “Let’s talk about something that isn’t likely to make me veer into the guardrail. Can you ask me if I remembered to charge my phone before I left the house?”

“Did you remember to charge your phone?” Mom asked pointedly, as though our previous conversation had never happened.

That was better. I laughed. “Yes, Mom, I did.”

It was a good thing I’d charged it, too. I had a certain delinquent casino owner to check up on.

And expensive, in-air purchases to make on a certain someone’s dime.