M y brief relationship with Peoria ended with no warning at all. She seemed so excited about the necklace and I thought I would get to see her again, but it didn’t seem to be the case. I woke up rather early and sent her a text message to let her know I was thinking about her, but there was no response. I sent a couple more messages throughout the day, but when noon passed with no response, I realized her silence was intentional. I dropped my phone on the coffee table and walked into the bathroom. The video and a picture that she hid her face in was the only thing I had besides the memories. I stepped into the shower and let the water run down my face. A million thoughts started running through my head, but the only thing I could think of that would have changed anything was the necklace. It was a stupid idea—I shouldn’t have given it to her. It was the only thing that could have scared her off. Either she was more upset than she let on that I could have possibly stolen it, or she didn’t like the fact I gave it to her in the first place. I sighed angrily and hit the wall before I turned off the water and reached for my towel.

At least I didn’t give her the diamond ring—that would have definitely confused her.

“Fuck...” I stared at the mirror and wiped away the condensation. As I stood there staring at my reflection and contemplating a shave, my phone started to ring.

Peoria

“Hello?” I picked up the phone and immediately swiped my finger across the screen so I could answer it.

“Vincent?” A raspy voice sounded in my ear.

“What? Who is this?” I pulled the phone away and looked at the screen. It wasn’t Peoria’s number.

“My name is Detective John Rogers. I’d like to ask you some questions. Can you come to the station?” He spoke fast, but as I heard his words, my heart sank into my stomach.

Oh shit.

“The police station?” I tried to stall, just asking anything I could think of. I ran to my closet and threw my duffel bag on the bed.

“Yes—can you come right away? I need to speak with you about a Ms. Peoria Talbot.” His voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Peoria?” I pulled the phone away from my ear again and looked at the screen. “Wait, what is this about?”

He’s not calling about the jewelry store—if they knew about the robbery, they would be breaking down my door instead of calling me.

“We got your number off of her phone. Mr. Vincent—what is your last name, anyway?” The Detective’s voice paused.

This is just a burner phone I picked up at the grocery store—they don’t even know who I am.

“Vincent will do.” I sat down on the edge of the bed. “Did something happen to Peoria?”

“I’d rather talk about this in person.” His voice started to get a little angry.

“I’d rather you tell me what the fuck is going on.” My tone matched his. “Did something happen to her?”

“She’s been kidnapped, along with her friend, Fiona Marquette.” The anger in his voice subsided slightly. “Look, I’d like to talk to you. We have her phone, we’ve read your text messages. It sounds like you two are an item?”

Something like that.

“Which police station?” I didn’t bother answering his question.

“The one on Forty-First.” I was already dressing as he told me where to go.

“I’ll be right there.” I slid my finger across my screen and reached for a shirt.

***

“I ’M VINCENT.” I EXTENDED my hand to Detective Rogers as he walked over and introduced himself.

“Let’s go back here and talk.” He motioned to one of the interrogation rooms.

“I’m not under arrest, am I? I’m not going in there unless I am. We can talk right here.” Just staring at the interrogation room gave me a bit of anxiety.

“No, you’re not under arrest. You’re not a suspect.” He shook his head quickly. “We know who took her.”

“Who?” I stepped closer and locked eyes with the detective.

“She got grabbed in the middle of a busy street by two guys in a black van. There’s only one man in Las Vegas brave enough to do that—and it sounds like a whole lot of other kidnapping reports sitting on my desk.” He sighed angrily.

Oh my god.

“Lawson King?” My knees went weak just saying his name. Lawson King was a Mob boss—the last of his kind in Las Vegas.

“Yes sir.” Detective Rogers nodded with a grimace. “He’s been pretty active in the last twenty-four hours. The word on the street is that someone hit one of his jewelry stores and he’s been picking up everyone who might know anything—not good for them. I just have no idea why he would kidnap a couple of tourists.”

Floyd, you son of a bitch.

“I have to go.” I turned away from the detective and started walking towards the exit.

“Mr. Vincent—wait.” Detective Rogers closed the distance between us and grabbed me by the arm. “Look, if you know something, please talk to me.”

“I don’t know anything that can help you.” I pulled away from him and walked out of the police station.

***

“F LOYD, WHAT THE FUCK !” I hit his door hard enough to send it crashing into him and break the flimsy chain. I followed it with a punch that landed on his jaw and sent him spinning backwards towards the floor.

“Vincent! Stop! What the hell, man?” He held his jaw as he looked up at my from the floor.

“That jewelry store was owned by Lawson King! You fucking idiot!” My blood was boiling to the point I could hear my pulse beating in my ears.

“Oh shit...” His eyes opened wide. The man who rarely showed emotion was absolutely terrified. “We have to get out of town.”

“It’s too late for that. He took her.” My jaw clenched and I exhaled angrily. “We have to give him the jewelry back and beg him not to kill her.”

“What? Who?” Floyd blinked as his eyes returned to normal size.

“Peoria! The girl we stole luggage from.” I put my hands on his hips.

“So? Who gives a shit—he’ll kill us if he finds out we stole from him!” Floyd stood and put his head in his hands.

“I’ve been seeing her, Floyd.” I let my anger settle for a moment. “I gave her the necklace I kept—that has to be how he found her, or else he would have come straight for us.”

“Fuck! She’s going to tell him who you are. We have to get the fuck out of town. Fuck the girl, Vincent—we have to go!” He ran to his bedroom and I heard him slinging stuff out of his closet.

“Go if you want, but the jewelry stays—you hear me? You can’t take anything. I’ve got to try and talk with him.” I walked into his bedroom.

“You have my word, man. I don’t want any of that shit. I’m leaving and I’m never coming back to Las Vegas.” Floyd quickly started stuffing some of his clothes in a suitcase.

“It’s been good knowing you, Floyd. I won’t tell him you were involved. If someone is going to die for this, I’ll take the bullet.” I turned away from Floyd and started walking towards the door.

Just as long as it isn’t Peoria.