She awoke with a start, gasping softly into the humid, dark room. She was on her back, the sheets twisted around her legs, the mattress hot beneath her back. Brian's arm was pressed up against hers, and she could still feel the sweat joining their flesh.
She swallowed hard, blinking slowly as the fingers of consciousness slowly spread back the cobwebs of sleep. She'd had the dream of Amanda, the same one that had haunted her for the past two weeks. One moment they were kissing, with a slow, sensual tangibility that took away her slumbering breath, but then as she lifted her head, Lewis would appear, watching them with a hideous smirk. His smile still gripped her as she lay there, her heart fluttering, shallowly.
She turned her head, slowly, releasing a tremulous breath as she stared Brian's sleeping face. A knot formed in her throat as she realized that she hadn't escaped anything. Lewis was still inside her head, and Amanda was still laced in every heartbeat and every thought or dream. In the wake of her and Brian's sexual reunification all she could feel was disgust with herself. She felt used and cheap by her own desperate attempts at liberation. Even in the midst of pleasure she had felt numb, and the excitement she'd once experienced during their intimacy failed to come alive even at her most vigorous demand or frantic wish.
As she sat up on the edge of the bed, she could feel the swollen ache in her groin, a lasting reminder that she had screamed at him to be harder, rougher, merciless. Surely, in the light of day, she'd see the marks they both bore of this night - the bruises on her flesh, the scratches across his back.
The distant throb of tears pressured her eyes, and she scraped one hand over her face, attempting to diffuse the panic before it set in. Her inhales were fragile and truncated as she remembered that even as the eventual climax had gripped her, it hadn't been enough.
Jumping up suddenly from the bed, she rushed towards the door, and into the dark hall. Batting at the wall to find her way, she stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. She didn't even attempt to find the light switch as she sank back again the wall, her panicked breathing echoing loudly inside the small space. She slid down against the wall, clutching her forehead as she crumpled to the floor.
I just want Amanda…. The thought fled through her mind like a prayer, and she released a low sob, digging her forehead into her knees.
Remembering her soft, pale hands and wide, blue eyes full of empathy brought a sharp inhale to her lungs in the next second, a mixture of relief and regret. It had been so many moments such as these that her angelic presence would find her, wrapping her in safety and understanding, a devotion that Olivia could still not quite believe. Tears clung to her lashes, her breath trembling as she remembered every single exchange that had brought them to this moment, right up to Amanda fleeing from her - just as she promised she wouldn't. Olivia had spent the past two weeks first mourning, then growing bitter over that fact, but she knew she could forget it all if Amanda but appeared beside her, that hesitant, hopeful smile touching her lips as she offered a brighter future.
I have to find her. The determination gripped her, and she could feel her belly quiver with a fire that she hadn't felt since she'd been tied to a metal bed frame, fighting for her life.
Lifting her head, she scrubbed her fingers beneath her eyes, clenching her jaw against the last of the panic. Pressing her fists to the cold floor, she pushed herself upright, swaying in the darkness before she grabbed first the counter, and then the doorknob. Pushing out into the hallway, she nearly broke into a run as she set her sights on the front door. She began to shove her feet into her shoes, her heart racing as she imagined finding Amanda again, telling her that she didn't care what she had done; they'd find some way to heal together….
Light suddenly flooded the room, causing her to jolt out of her wild thoughts. She spun around, fear filling her for a moment at the slightest image of Lewis inside her home again. Instead, Brian stood at the threshold of the living room, leaning one elbow against the wall. His brow was furrowed, eyes narrowed, mouth set in a line.
"Jesus, Brian, you scared me." She whispered, breathlessly.
"Where are you going?" He asked in a low tone, ignoring her frightened expression as he gestured towards the door with a finger.
She swallowed, her heart thudding heavily with new apprehension as his accusatory stare burned into her with each passing second.
When she didn't answer, he released a low sigh, rubbing two fingers over his eyes, before letting his hand drop with a loud smack against his thigh.
"What do I have to do, Liv?" He questioned, frustration glimmering in his eyes. "What would make you want to be here with me?"
"Bri, that's not-" She began, her voice an uneven whisper.
"Stop." He snapped, before she could form the excuse on her tongue. "You were going to do this to me all over again, weren't you?"
"Do what?" She replied, her voice a trembling whisper because she already knew.
"No, Liv, I'm not going to say it for you." He answered through clenched teeth. "I thought maybe if I showed you that things could still be good between us you'd stop running away from me, and let go of this ridiculous crush on Amanda!"
"First of all, it's not a crush." She returned sharply, her voice trembling. "I am not some teenage girl that-"
"Do you even hear yourself?" Brian demanded, his voice rising as he pushed away from the wall. "How exactly would you frame that relationship?"
He paced away from the hallways, towards the window, his shoulders taut with anger. He leaned against the frame with one hand, his jaw working in the moonlight as he stared out at the skyline.
"Why are you even bringing Amanda into this?" She whispered through burgeoning tears, a pitiful defense to his painfully accurate insinuations.
"Where else would you be going in the middle of the night?" He asked, his voice falling to a apathetic whisper. "Because the last time this happened I found you in bed with her."
There was silence for a moment while her chest quivered and his fists trembled. At last, he tilted his head in her direction, digging for an answer with his narrowed gaze.
They stared at each other across from the room, tears shimmering in both of their gazes, and the distinct feeling that this moment could be the end of them filled Olivia's chest suddenly and sharply, taking away even the smallest breath. Every moment they'd spent together, every kiss, every touch, the laughs and tears flashed before her eyes, and she realized with abysmal despair that even the memories of what she'd called happiness did not evoke the same feelings as they once had. Instead, her unhappiness bubbled up inside of her - every single time he'd ignored her feelings, every time he'd found something more important to fill his time with, every time he'd skirted the subject of children, and the marriage proposal she knew would never come. She wanted to scream out every complaint that she had spilled upon Lindstrom's ears, but she couldn't.
"I can't do this right now." She finally managed to whisper, her voice barely holding strong against emotion.
"Christ, Olivia." Brian groaned, scraping one hand over his face and into hair before his eyes hooked into her again. Tell me the truth for once. Do you want to be with me or not?"
"You'd think you'd know the answer to that after tonight." She whispered, choking over the outright question.
The ambiguity of the statement didn't reach her ears until she'd already spoken the words and Brian was glaring at her with a resentment so horrid that she wished to sink through the floorboards and into the ground.
"You'd think." He repeated, spitefully. "You'd think that sleeping with your girlfriend would mean something."
She clenched her jaw as another wave of pain went through her, just another shard of guilt to pierce her heart. She wanted to cry out that she felt as used as he did, just as sad and disappointed in herself that things could not be as they once were; but she swallowed back all the words of commiseration. He didn't want to hear it, and she was too much of a coward in this moment to admit it aloud.
"I'll come back." She murmured, ducking her head as she turned quickly towards the door. "I promise."
"No." Brian breathed, causing her fingers to clench hard around the doorknob. "Don't promise me shit, Olivia."
She pressed her eyes shut as tears burned unrelenting against her lids, but even as the worst of the guilt gutted her through and through, she could not turn back to him with the truth on her tongue. Instead, she wrenched the door open, shaking to escape into the night.
xxxxx
The sun was just beginning to rise, spreading golden light across Atlantic City, and the beach below. The red glowing numbers on the alarm clock next to the bed had read 8:02 am when she had risen.
The high rise hotel would be a glittery sight right now, Amanda mused, if she weren't standing at the glass wall of Room 2113, the mimosa dangling from her fingers as she watched the night disappear.
The five star hotel boasted 24 hour room service, and she had promptly ordered the alcoholic drink before last night's hangover could catch up with her. Any concern she'd had over sobriety had disappeared over the last few days, or was it weeks now? The passage of time had slipped away from her in the conflicting light and dark of the casinos below.
She closed her eyes as the warmth of the sun's natural light washed over her naked flesh with a mesmerizing allure. God, it was tempting, but she'd only be fooling herself, imaging a chance of something better. In a few precious moments the illusion would be shattered, the cold splash of reality landing her back in $60 motels before the day was over. The rational thought that she could simply go home barely flitted across her mind.
She lifted the half empty champagne glass to her lips as she glanced over her shoulder at the king size bed, and the woman sprawled leisurely beneath sheets that barely covered her tan backside.
She'd introduced herself only as Nadine last night when they'd found themselves next to each other at a table where her husband had ignored her for gambling, cigars, and ego stroking from the rest of casino's guests. He owned some sort of investment company, but Amanda did not remember, nor care to recall exactly who he was or why he mattered in the world. She'd had enough of men and their insidious delusions of self serving grandeur. Nadine, on the other hand, had drawn her attention quickly as she pretended to cheer on her husband while loneliness and dejection grew in her gaze.
Amanda might have lost the chance at good stack of cash by leaving the tables early, but she'd been gambling for two weeks. The addiction's affects had begun to wane, no longer washing away the memories of the woman she truly wished were lying
in the bed. Even now, if she swallowed a few more mimosas, she might be able to find a mirage of Olivia in Nadine's graceful pose.
Nadine had been a beautiful, sweet distraction, but Amanda knew this was to be but a one night stand and nothing more. In fact, she'd had no intention of speaking to Nadine ever again after tonight when she'd followed her from the casino's loud, buzzing floor to this hotel across the street. She only lingered here now, hoping to cling to the last bits of bliss before the real world swallowed her whole all over again.
The last of the mimosa drained from the glass to her waiting tongue, and she swallowed slowly, savoring the tanginess of the orange juice below the warmth of the champagne's caress. Reality was just moments away.
Wandering away from the window, she sat the glass on the desk, and slowly began to gather her clothing from the floor.
She could've ordered another, but what would've been the point? Postponing the inevitable had only ever served to hurt her more in the end. It was why she had left New York when she had, why she wouldn't stay here to kiss Nadine good morning. Pretending that she could hold on to her and Olivia's relationship had been a delusion of her own making, and pretending that the woman in her bed meant anything more than what was seen at face value would be an even greater foolishness.
Dressing herself in yesterday's clothes, Amanda raked her eyes over the room one last time, hardly allowing herself to gaze at Nadine's body, and the warmth that she knew it could offer. Turning towards the door, she squared her shoulders and cleared her mind, posing herself with a much simpler question.
Which bars are open this early?
xxxxxx
She'd drawn out the buzz, stringing along the fragility of happiness and carelessness between half a dozen drinks throughout the afternoon, but as the hours waned, she found herself wandering back to the tables, skirting groups of laughing people and whirring machines. She could hear the numbers being called, the dice skittering across felt, and, not for the first time, she wished for New York. Atlantic City seemed like a cartoon version of the gritty, seedy gambling rooms in the sleepless city, but maybe she didn't have the steel guts that she used to. Maybe, here she could be a cartoon of herself, a pitiful, weak version that didn't have the courage it took to do exactly what she wanted; a way to toe the line of danger until she could blur enough to cross without fear.
Meandering past a table of blackjack and then poker, she felt a restlessness crawling through her veins. The shiny, gaudy appeal of this city had begun to fade, and each new minute of lonely, hopeless drifting only wedged the discomfort deeper.
In the past, she'd considered herself fearless, and pressing the button on self destruct had come easier than almost anything. Now, she flirted with legal casinos and bars that took a person's keys after one too many, flying through the safety zone of her vices as though there would be something to go back to in the end.
I'm too sober for this. She thought, clenching her teeth against any urge to collapse into a breakdown.
She couldn't think of her reasons to live right now because they were few, wrapped up inside two tragic, honey eyes and a heart that bore the weight of the world.
Finding her way to the bar, she slipped onto the stool, and dejectedly waited for the bartender to notice her. Atlantic City no longer felt kind, and even last night's temporary bliss already felt cheap and useless in the back of her mind. She'd engaged in many casual encounters, never apologetic, never guilty; but maybe sex hadn't been what she had wanted last night.
She glanced back at the crowd, numbly watching their interactions. There was no raw human connection here. Their faces appeared like clown makeup, fake smiles and laughter that covered the hopeless pursuits of true happiness. She swallowed hard as heavy emotion weighed on her chest with the knowledge that she was never going to find what she wanted here, nor would she escape it.
"What'll it be, sweetheart?" The bartender asked, drawing her attention back from the deep thoughts scorching her brain.
"Whiskey." She replied with an automatic smile that didn't make it's way past her mouth. "On the rocks."
"Sure thing." He replied with a wink.
She barely acknowledged his flirtatious behavior as he poured her drink with a flourish of his hand, and slid if across from her.
"It'll be on the house if you tell me what a pretty girl like you is thinking about." He smiled, widely, leaning on the bar.
"I can pay for my own drinks, thank you." She replied with a scoff as she picked up the drink, and immediately swallowed several, large gulps.
He watched her, his brows rising as she nearly emptied the glass before slamming it back down with a slosh of ice.
"Another then?" He asked, seeming both taken aback and amused by her behavior.
"Only if you'll let me drink in peace." She replied, snidely, the alcohol already loosening her tongue.
He snorted a laugh and refilled the glass, although he didn't move away from her as began to lift the drink once more. His eyes were laughing, and she though he must get off on making the young, female patrons of this establishment uncomfortable when his expression shifted. His gaze darted over her shoulder and she immediately twisted to catch sight of what caught his eyes.
"Looks like you've got some friends." He commented, and her stomach slowly dropped as she watched the two, black-clad security guards advancing towards her.
"What'd you do?"
"I don't know…" She whispered, her heart palpitating in her chest as she tried to remember every evening she'd spent inside this casino or the next, and what she possibly could've done.
"Amanda Rollins?" One of them asked in a gruff tone reached her.
"Yes." She said, slowly setting her drink down as they towered above her.
"You'll need to come with us." The other added, his narrowed dark eyes cutting into her with the implication that she should comply.
"Why?" She asked, breathlessly, standing slowly from the stool, her back pressed to the bar.
"We'll get into that once we're away from the floor." The first guard said with an icy, professional smile. "Wouldn't wanna make a scene."
"I haven't done anything." She whispered, her gaze bouncing between the two of them as the terrifying thought that one of her old bookies had somehow found her in another state.
"Let's not make things harder." The second guard asserted, his gaze holding a threat that she hardly wanted to test; however, she had no desire to go anywhere with the two men not knowing what the results would be.
"I'd be happy to prove that I've been playing fairly." She insisted, attempting to keep an even tone as their bodies seemed to close in around her.
"No worries, Miss Rollins." The first guard smiled unnervingly once more. "This is about other, more personal things."
She froze at his words, her heart slowing for half a moment before pounding hard against her ribs. Suddenly, all she could think of was Nadine, pushed against the door of the dark hotel room, gasping that her husband would kill them both if he knew. Nadine groaning afterwards that she'd be in so much trouble, that her husband had more power than he should; that he'd used it before, and wouldn't hesitate...
"Mr. Defranco would be more than happy to arrange issue with your money if you'd prefer that." The first guard said, his tone dripping with condescension. "Or you could come with us. Your choice."
Amanda swallowed hard, her pulse rushing at a sickening pace in her neck as her brain cycled frantically through her options. Any trouble with the casino would fall back on her job and the NYPD, while complying to their threats left much of her Fate to bleak imagination. She didn't know much of the Mr. Defranco that had been mentioned, but she knew enough for fear for what these two men might do to her in retaliation.
But what about Olivia? The question surfaced in her mind. If I'm arrested for cheating in a casino I'm done for...and I'll never see her again…
Blinking against hot tears of fear, she nodded, haltingly.
"All right." She whispered, his voice trembling. "Let's go."