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Today was the day Governor Blaise arrived in Las Vegas for his big shit political fundraiser. He’d arrived with a small contingent of staffers, including his chief of staff, junior press secretary and his sixteen-year-old sidepiece masquerading as a twenty-two-year-old staffer, Sabrina. Not to mention three bodyguards, which his wife always insisted on thanks to her family’s wealth.
Armed with the information I got from Terry, combined with my own not-above-board research, I was ready to go head to head with this dirtbag. I sprawled out on Jag’s sofa watching Blaise and his crew smile for the cameras as the handsome and slimy owner of Siren Casino and Resort, Drake Foster greeted him, sharing Governor Dirt Bag’s big, shit-eating grin. From one scumbag to another.
“Enjoy it while it lasts, motherfucker,” I chucked at my computer screen.
Everything was all set. Friday was two days away, plenty of time to check and double check every phase of my plan. Then when Friday rolled around, I would do what I had to, and I’d leave Las Vegas for good. I didn’t want to leave, not really. Jag was incredible, even more than I dreamed back when we talked every single day. He wasn’t just a hot body and a good hacker; he was a good man. The best man. Kind and sweet, handsome and smart. He was damn near perfect.
He had a family. The Reckless Bastards were his tribe and they, for the most part, hated my fucking guts. So I would do what I came here to do and help Jag’s club in the process. Then I would leave. I had no plan and no clue where I would go next. New York was ruined for me and I’d already put my apartment on the market. I was done with the east coast and thanks to Jag and his crew, I couldn’t be on the west coast either.
Maybe I’d move to Big Sky country. I’d heard Wyoming was beautiful in the springtim
e.
“You finally ready to talk?” Jag stood in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen looking delicious in nothing but a pair of burgundy boxers that hugged his thighs and his thick, semi-hard cock.
I wasn’t ready to give him all the details, but he caught me off guard and distracted me with his beautiful body. “No, but a promise is a promise. I’m going to out Blaise.” I braced myself for his response because I knew he wouldn’t like it.
His posture proved it. Arms crossed and a disapproving scowl on his face. “Vivi you can’t. Those girls are underage.”
Question answered. “And that’s why I’m going to out him. He’s breaking the law, Jag, and that means it’s going to come out one way or the other. At least if I leak it then I can be sure the media will cover it.”
I closed down my laptop, sick of seeing Blaise’s face smiling on every goddamn channel. “Oh, and it might save my life if that matters to you at all.” Why was I being so bitchy to him? I didn’t know but I had a feeling and I didn’t want to examine it too closely.
“That’s not fair, you know I care. But are you even thinking of the girls?”
I scoffed, disgusted at his view. “Oh please, these girls knowingly fucked a married man. I’m sorry Jag, but I’m not risking my life for young girls with daddy issues. Or an old fucking pervert. You know he’s using his political power to screw these girls over.” He sucked in a breath like one of the girls was his long-lost family and I knew this was going to be a problem.
“That’s cold, Vivi. Even for you.”
“It’s a good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion, isn’t it?” It was also a good thing I’d already decided to leave Vegas or else I’d be really upset right about now.
“There’s no other way?”
I shook my head. “I looked, Jag, but going to the cops with the proof only helps if they do something about it. What if he’s got the cops in his pocket? No one will do anything. The only way to make sure he’s caught with his pants down is to make certain enough people know about his proclivities.”
He gave me a disappointed look I’d been seeing on people’s faces who were supposed to care about me—my parents, social workers and even that one foster family before I ran away—my entire life. I hated that look. It pissed me off because I didn’t need anyone else to be disappointed in me. I did a good enough job of that all on my own.
“Vivi, think about it. Please.”
“I have thought about it. Day after day after day. And something needs to be done about it. He’s a freakin pervert!”
There was nothing more to say, not about this. He’d made his opinion clear and I disagreed. We were at an impasse.
Luckily it would be over on Friday, one way or the other.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jag
Vivi was so goddamn stubborn. The woman could make the Pope lose his cool and I was far from his fucking holiness. I couldn’t believe she refused to listen to reason where those girls were concerned. They were kids for fuck’s sake and not in control of their actions.
“How could a woman have such a callous attitude towards little girls? Can you believe it?”
Lasso and Rocky stared at each other and then at me, their heads nodding in agreement.
“Jag, it’s illegal. Those girls might have been all over Blaise, saying yes, yes, yes. Doesn’t matter. If they are underage, there’s no consent. Even if he didn’t coerce them. Read the law,” Rocky said, leaning forward and looking at me like maybe I didn’t understand the English language. “It’s no different than if that fifteen-year-old was dating a nineteen-year-old. Statutory rape. Hella illegal.”
