Page 230 of The Bluffing Game

“I’ll let you deal with it when we get in, but I’m not going to keep quiet—you know that, Brett.”

“I know.” He sighs. “Come on. Let’s go. She’s in room nine.”

We slide out of the car, and I look around. I see a couple of guys hanging out in the parking lot, but I don’t say anything. I don’t make eye contact. I follow Brett up the stairs until we reach room nine. He knocks, and we wait. My heart is thudding. I can’t believe that I’m here finally.

“Shit, is she not here?” I look at my watch, and he knocks again.

“She’s here. She’ll answer.” He calls out, “Louisa.” Nothing. He bangs again, louder, and shouts, “Louisa, it’s Brett.”

Finally, the door opens. A pale woman with stringy brown hair stands before us, her wide, gaunt eyes fixed on us. She looks at Brett and then looks at me, and she gives us a toothless grin.

“You got the money?” she asks.

Brett nods.

“Come in before they see you. I don’t want them taking my money. You got any dope on you?” she asks hopefully.

I shake my head, and so does Brett.

We step inside to the decrepit motel room. There’s trash all over the ground. The bed is unmade, and there’s a musty smell.

I can’t stop myself from asking her, “You live here?”

She shakes her head. “About two hours away. Kid’s with the grandma. I just need a hit, you know?” She looks at me and blinks. “You the guy that has the stuff?”

I stare at her and don’t say anything.

Brett motions for her to sit down. “Louisa, we wanted to speak to you about Toby.”

“Who the hell is Toby?” she says, eyes darting around the room. “Where’s my money?”

Brett looks over at me. “Louisa, you know why we’re here, right?”

“Look, for my money. You’re here for my money. Wait, no, you’re here to give me money.” She looks frantic, picking at her nails.

“I am Dalton,” I say. Brett looks over at me, and I ignore him. “I’m Dalton Leone. I’m the man who adopted Toby.”

“Who the hell is Toby?” she says, glaring at me.

But I can see from the way her expression changed that she knows who he is.

“He’s your son, Louisa. Your son with Igor.”

“Don’t talk to me about that motherfucker,” she says loudly. “He ruined my life.”

I stare at her. “He’s doing well—Toby is. I’m his adopted father. I’ve had custody of him for⁠—”

“Where’s my money?” she cuts me off.

She really doesn’t care. I don’t know what I expected, but this wasn’t it.

“He’d really like a mother in his life.” As I say it, I look at her and know she’s in no fit state to be a mother to him or to anyone else. “I can help you if you want to get clean, if you …”

“Where the hell is my money?” She looks over at Brett.

He sighs and hands her a bag. She opens it eagerly, greedily, and sinks to the ground as she sees all that cash.

“Thank you, God. I needed this.”