Back at the Bellagio

Voices

Rhi POV

"Alex! What are you doing?!" I look at him incredulously.

Looking at me, he smiles a broad shit-eating grin and laughs. "What?" He puts his hand on his chest, feigning innocence, "Baby, I'm just putting away the stuff in your overnight bag. I'm just helping you, so you don't cause any more damage to your hand. You know I don't like to see you hurting." He says, trying to look innocent, but failing miserably.

I laugh, "You are so full of shit. If that were the case, you wouldn't have all my things in my suitcase sitting on the bed and my overnight case would be empty. There wasn't much in the overnight case to begin with. So… care to justify your thought process of emptying my suitcase?" I raise my eyebrows, putting my hand on my hip and tapping my foot.

Shrugging his shoulders he chuckles, "Okay, you got me. I wanted to pick out your sleepwear. You need to be comfortable, that's a requirement. The doctor needs to have unrestricted access to your hand for proper treatment." He gives me a wide grin. "I don't really think these are appropriate for the doctor, do you?" He turns, holding up a pair of red lace thong panties and a matching bra. There's a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "So tell me, when were you going to wear these for me? I'd love to have you model them. I can't guarantee they will stay on you for long but it makes for a lovely mental picture." He gives me a wicked smile and wiggles his eyebrows.

I laugh, "You're incorrigible." I walk over to the bed and rummage through my clothes to find something to sleep in. I settle on a fresh camisole and shorts and hold them up. "I think these will do just fine; don't you think?" I smile sweetly and bat my eyes at him.

His eyes darken slightly, but he's still smiling. "Hmm… perhaps a little more clothing for the good doctor."

I can tell that he's a little, shall we say, possessive of some things. Though I'm not sure why. I mean, he dances and strips for a living. What's the big deal? I let it go and say nothing. However, to appease him I put him out of his misery. "Don't worry, somewhere in the mess you made there should be a pair of sweats that I'll put on in the morning. For now, I'm wearing these."

Picking them up, I walk into the bathroom and change. On my way out, I grab the fuzzy robes and put one on. Throwing the other one at him, "Here, you can wear this one again. Unless you find something you like on my bed to wear? Perhaps the red lace thong?" I snicker.

"Oh that's funny. You're a riot." He laughs and in three steps he's right in front of me, picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. Walking to the bed he swats me on my behind and tosses me gently onto the bed.

My assumption is he did it gently because of my hand otherwise I would be in trouble. He lays on top of me, putting his weight on his arms, using his knee to wedge between my legs. "Are you OK? How's your hand?" His brown eyes full of concern.

Reaching up, I touch his bearded chin, "I'm OK. It hurts but I'll live." I try to sit up but he's still laying on me. Grasping his beard, I pull him down and kiss him gently. "I'm going to go get a drink. You can change and put on the robe if you want. You're welcome to climb in bed and go to sleep too." I pause, "I want to sit and look at the sky for a little bit." I look at him for a lingering moment, hoping he understands what I'm saying.

He sits up and kneels on his knees then sits back on his feet and looks down at me, his expression unreadable. "Can I come? I promise I'll just sit there quietly." He asks, quietly.

Butterflies erupt in my tummy and my heartbeat quickens in anticipation. "Of course. You're welcome to but…" I swallow, "Please don't get mad. I'm going to have some Patron. Just enough to dull the pain." I haven't taken any pain meds yet and, to be honest, I hadn't planned on it unless he made me. I'm definitely not volunteering. I hate taking drugs of any kind.

I watch as he stands up and strips down to his undershorts and puts on the robe. My mouth waters and I lick my lips but I maintain control of myself. Not tonight.

Picking me up, he carries me out to the breakfast bar and sits me on a bar stool. Opening up various cabinets until he finds the glassware, he selects a tumbler and pours some Patron into the glass. By my calculations, the glass should hold about four shots. I guess it's his way of letting me have it but controlling how much I have. Jeeze, I'm not a fucking child. I totally get it though. Not everyone knows, or even TRIES to understand how it helps me. Not to mention any of my other coping mechanisms.

He hands me the glass, "Thank you." I smile up at him and down the glass. His face is expressionless when I hand it back to him. "Please? I don't feel like arguing about it but I really need it." Sighing, he fills it again and hands it back to me. "Thank you."

Jumping off the bar stool, I carry my glass and walk to the window where I slept the first time he was here. This glass, though, I don't drink right away. I hold onto it tightly like it's lifesaving water and I'm trapped in a desert. I laugh. You know because I'm literally in a desert in Vegas.

I wrap the robe around me the best that I can and stand in front of the window, silently searching the sky. Slowly I forget he's in the room and I embrace the quiet and try to empty my mind to quit overthinking things. I remain quiet, for how long I don't know. My focus is on the sky and nothing else; letting the calm take over.

"How am I going to do this?" I sigh, "Daddy, I wish you were here. There's something I need to do and I don't know if I can. I don't know if I have the strength to do it. If you're listening, please help me and give me your strength."

I feel so weak when I can't do something. I've always been strong. Strong enough to endure the shit I've been through with my mother and her worthless piece of shit brother. Strong enough to survive Jace and his psychotic fucked up issues. I'm strong, not weak, and it disgusts me when I can't handle something this mild. Maybe that's the problem, maybe I need hard, rough and brutal to survive. If it's too easy there must be something wrong. I don't know, none of it makes sense.

"I finally have a bright spot in my life, well something in addition to the ones I already have. I met someone, though I'm sure you already know that."

I'm always with you. You know that.

"I know you're with me, I can feel you. I wish you could meet him in the flesh. I know you'd like him. Everyone would like him." I'm silent for a moment. "I wish things we different, I would love to hear the 'you're not good enough for my daughter' speech and coming home to you sitting on the front porch with a shotgun waiting for me to come home from a date. Actually, now that I think about it, that could still happen if I ever brought someone home but it wouldn't be the same."

I can still rock that rocking chair and grab the shotgun. Wouldn't that be something? Scare the hell out of any boy who tries to date my little girl. Personally, I think it would be better having the chair move and a shotgun hanging in the air.

I full out laugh, imagining going on a date and coming home to a shotgun floating in the air by my dead dad. "I'd definitely be single forever, that's for sure."

I let out a sigh, "Dad, something happened. I promised him I would tell him but I don't know if I can really follow through with it. I don't want to hurt him but…"

You've always kept your promises. It's what makes you unique. Not too many people can do that.

"What if it leads to more questions that I'm not prepared to answer? What if he doesn't understand why I'm the way I am? What if I'm too damaged for him?" I snort, "I'm sure his friends already think I'm a nutcase because of things that have happened here."

I hate to tell you this, but you are a nutcase. You've always been a bit 'off' and if he can't see that and accept you for who you are then he's not worthy of you. Yep, I'm pulling the Dad card. No one's good enough for you but some are better than others.

I laugh, "Hey! I'm just taking after you. Like father like daughter." There's silence for a minute. "What if I get close and he leaves me? My heart's been broken before. I don't know if I can go through that again. Sometimes I wonder, do I still have a heart?"

You have a heart. You have one of the biggest hearts I've ever seen. You love hard and there's nothing wrong with that. You do things for anyone to help them or just because. That's a rare thing in the world. Most people are only out for themselves. You think of others first, which is why I get so mad at you for disregarding your health and safety. You can't help people if you're not healthy.

Taking another drink, I sigh, "Dad, you don't understand. I'd rather have a broken body than a broken heart."

You never should have had a broken body. If I was there I would have done whatever it took to prevent it. I would have sent out the troops to find you and stop it.

"I know, I know but you barely understood when it happened. You tried but I think it was too much for you to handle. I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you feel bad but you did try. That's what matters."

I was there with you to help you get away. I'll always be there.

"You're right. You were always there." I swallow hard, "However, in the end, you left me too." Fuck.

I pause and take a drink. I whisper, "Maybe I'm destined to be alone, with just Kate and Ana and my friends back home. You know, the ones you didn't like but didn't hate either? While I got into trouble a lot with them, they were always there for me. You always accepted my friends even if I did get into trouble when I was with them. I always wondered, was it because you didn't want me to be alone?"

It's not that I didn't like them, you just got into a lot of UNNECESSARY SITUATIONS when you were together.

Taking another drink I lean into the window and place my forehead on it and look down at the Strip. The lights are so pretty, all the cars and all the people still out and about. I wish I was down there with them.

"At least I have Kate and Ana. They are always here for me and I truly love them and appreciate everything they've done for me. I feel cared for, loved and protected."

Yeah, and they try to keep you out of trouble. Obviously that doesn't work all the time.

"I've said it before, getting into mischief makes life exciting. You're right though, they try their best to keep me safe. Sometimes they join in but a lot of the time they don't agree with my ideas. I know I do some pretty outrageous things and, I admit, they're not the safest or smartest things, but I'd never do anything to hurt anyone."

You definitely are, shall we say, creative in the things you do. I'll give you credit for that.

I roll my eyes, "Dad, creativity is my middle name." I chuckle.

No, but I should've named you that.

I chuckle, "Kate and Ana are amazing. They've never judged me."

Are you SURE about that?

"OK, well if they DO judge me I'm not aware of it. At least they're here to make sure I don't do something stupid." I pause, "Well, more than normal. Without them I don't know where I'd be." I pause, "Probably dead." I bark out a laugh, finding myself quite funny and take another drink.

Don't you DARE say that! I don't want to hear those words come out of your mouth again. EVER.

I swallow and lower my head. "Sorry." I take another drink and look down at my glass and sigh. It's almost empty. I better make this last.

"Look, you know me better than anyone. There are things that I do, that I NEED to do, to cope. They may not agree with me but they don't stop me either. My coping mechanisms are WAY different from everyone else's."

You wouldn't listen anyway and you know it.

"You are absolutely correct in that. It's my life and my choice. I have reasons that I do things. I don't like to have to explain myself all the time. Kate and Ana know that. They know what happened. For the most part they don't get in the way but sometimes they need to intercept things." Yeah, like earlier tonight at dinner.

Someone has to do it. Sometimes you can't. You know, I can see what you have in your hand. Are you ever able to function without it?

I roll my eyes, "Yes, I function without it. But this past two days have been rough. I know my drinking bothers a lot of people, and believe me I understand the concern, but no one really tries to understand MY reasons."

Now you're just trying to justify and validate.

This is so exasperating. "It alleviates my pain. My physical, mental and emotional pain. It soothes me. I like the burn and the numbness it creates both while drinking and after. It dulls the pain I'm always feeling." I hate talking about this. It's the same argument all the time.

"Who knows? Maybe Dr. Randall is right. Maybe I'm always feeling pain because I keep it locked up all the time. Other than him and you I only have Kate and Ana to talk to. I only talk to them because they witnessed everything as it unfolded and were there to pick up the pieces of me. I don't have to hide anything from them." I try, I really try, to not drink the rest of the liquid in my glass but I can't stop myself and I end up finishing it off. Just fucking peachy.

I'm still leaning my head on the cool glass but my eyes are no longer on the streets below. They're raised up and I'm looking out across the landscape. The glow from the city lights makes the night sky look serene. I'm caught up in the web of my mind.

"You know what dad? I could read Kate's thoughts today. She was surprised that I wasn't drunk, considering how much alcohol I actually consumed today."

Why do you do that?

"Yeah, about that. I know I shouldn't have drank the entire bottle of tequila at the show but I really needed something to take the edge off. I didn't want to make Ana feel bad but when she grabbed my hand it hurt so bad I almost punched her. I know she forgot and it's an easy mistake, I forget shit all the time. I wouldn't have blamed her but she would have felt terrible about it." Yeah, that's not the only reason I needed it.

Go on. I know there's more to it.

"That isn't the only reason I needed it." Tears form in my eyes, spill over and run swiftly down my cheeks.

This is hard. "I was so scared earlier. He just stood there, staring at me, not a word was spoken and then he vanished. He disappeared like fog in the sunlight. I questioned my sanity. Did I really see him? Have I totally lost it? I swear, he came back and came looking for me. How could that be? He was supposed to be gone and never coming back. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything. The only thing I was able to do was swim back to the safety of Ana and Kate."

He's gone. We've made sure of that. EVERYONE has made sure of that. He's never coming back. You definitely need to see Dr. Randall when you get back. You're OK. You're safe.

I lift my glass to my lips and attempt to take a drink, only to find that my glass is empty. Looking around, I'm surprised to see Ana next to me holding the bottle of Patron. Reaching out, she takes my glass and fills it once again then sets the bottle down on the table and walks away wordlessly. I'd drink straight from the bottle but I don't think anyone would appreciate that.

"Dad, that fucker scared the shit out of me and I freaked. I lost my cool which, you know me, rarely happens. I just couldn't take him anymore. Especially when he tried to grab me. I yelled for him to stop and punched him in the face to make my point. Taught him a lesson, I hope." My anger surges and I growl out, "I hope I broke his face."

Rhi…

Downing my drink I wave, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know what you're going to say. I most likely broke my hand but it was totally worth it. Maybe now he'll leave me alone. He's been asking for it since we got here. Fucker."

Rhi..

Filling my glass once again, I drink it down, "No, dad, don't yell at me. He deserved every splatter of blood and a broken nose. I heard a crack but I don't know if it was his face or my hand. I hope it was his face."

I shut down my brain, I don't want any more. I want silence.