Until now. If those fuckers were marked they'd show up like neon signs, no matter how subtle.
At the cashier's window, sweat poured down Jack's body as he shoved his chips forward, feeling Lane's eyes on him like beams of death. "Cash, hundreds," he said tersely. Don't glance around now, just cool it, another minute or so. Someone's presence loomed behind him big and heavy and Jack gritted his teeth. Don't turn, DON'T TURN ASSHOLE. The cashier deftly counting crisp bills into neat piles, a tap on his shoulder, his knees buckling, his heart bursting; again that heavy tap of fate, and his head turning, his face turning into a gritty white mask as he saw the huge security guard.
"Yeah?" he said in a croak.
"May I escort you outside, sir?" the guard asked.
Jack almost fainted with relief. "No. Bug off."
"It's for your own protection," the guard said in a tough voice. "We wouldn't want you to get mugged or hurt."
"I can take care pf myself, buddy. Just split."
The guard moved off and Jack began stuffing his pockets with bills, cramming them, heading for the nearest exit now, playing a little game called Beat The Pit Boss or Get The Fuck Gone Before They Bury You, stepping outside, eyes searching frantically for a taxi, no Goddamn taxi when you need one, never, okay move into the crowds now, keep moving at all times, because you know they're gonna follow you until they get the word on the cards, don't look back, shove these assholes out of the way, fuck you too turkeys, side street, stay in the heavy crowds, don't run, DON'T RUN ah shit, they're behind me because I can feel them, two of them, plainclothes goons, taxi, TAXI!
One screeched to a halt beside him. Jack saw them as he was getting in the cab, cold-faced mother-fuckers, big, expressions like zombies, real muscle-goons like the kind that had put him in the hospital. They were only a few yards away, still moving toward his taxi, SHIT!
"Move out!" he screamed at the driver. "MOVE OUT NOW, YOU ASSHOLE, GO, GO, GO!"
The driver gaped at him, then got the idea. The cab screeched out and Jack peered back at the two goons now jumping up and down to hail another taxi. Shit! One pulled up to the curb!
"Turn right here," Jack snapped. He waited until the cab turned then leaned forward and spoke fast. "Listen… there's a hundred bucks in it for you if you lose that cab behind us…"
"There's no cab behind us."
"Shut up! Move this fucker, run lights, I don't care what you do, go through fifty side streets, but KEEP MOVING! I'll tell you when to stop. Go!"
He tossed a hundred-dollar bill at the driver to reinforce his instructions, and the driver hauled ass then, careening around side streets, avoiding the heavy traffic expertly. Jack could have sworn no one was following, but still…
"Stop here, thanks, bye," he was out of the taxi before it stopped. Moving very swiftly, Jack went in the front door of a casino, didn't look back once, went out the rear door, walked quickly down the street, searching desperately up and down for another cab, saw a yellow coming down the street, waved at it frantically, thought holy shit suppose they're in it. He was on the verge of running for his life when he saw it was empty. He got in and told the driver to take him to Sally's motel. He leaned back in the seat, sweat gushing from his pores in a shroud, his heart pounding like a sledgehammer.
He'd made it.
By now, Lane would be in a fury, he'd have spotted the marks for sure if they used the infra-red. "Fuck you, you ice-blooded prick," he muttered aloud. He was home free. HOME FREE. Oh, Easy Street, here Jack comes.
As quickly as he could, he explained the situation to Sally. "Best thing we can do is get the fuck out of town like our asses are on fire. Now listen, hon…" He stuffed his pockets with her take as he talked, until he bulged.
"I'm going back to give Carol a cock-and-bull – cock-and-pussy? – Story to stall her, then I'm coming back here with the bread. I won't be more than thirty minutes."
"Then leave my part of the take here," she said sharply.
He waved his hand. "Piss on that, just trust me, will you? I want it all with me, it was my plan, my caper, my sweat. Just wait for me."
The words sounded funny to him, dreamy with echoes. Wait for me? That's what he'd told Carol in Omaha. Sally flung her arms around him and kissed him passionately.
"Listen, bastard," she hissed, "I trust you. You and I stick together no matter what. Always, through shit and paradise. Never forget that, Jack."
"You're making my heart bleed," he said but he kissed her fervently. He couldn't cross her and they both knew it.
He was out the door and walking the two blocks to his own motel, jerking his head nervously up and down the street at the passing cars but he knew he was home free now, that it was just lingering nerve-screams.
He went into his room and Carol was holding a drink, wearing a sexy new negligee, her eyes shining with excitement and love.
"We made it," he panted. "With about two seconds to spare. Now listen, Carol, I've some important business to take care of, private, see, and I'll be back for you in about, oh say, an hour. Okay? Wait for me."
"Wait for you," she echoed, smiling. She handed him the drink. "For God's sake, darling, slow down for one second and let's have a toast to your genius."
He nodded, gulping the scotch rapidly, shaking his head and whistling. Straight stuff. Carol put her arm around him, her blue eyes gleaming like immense brilliant orbs, flickering in that funny way. Jesus, did he have time for a quickie? A farewell fuck for this poor farmer's daughter, something to remember him by?
"Wait for me," she whispered, rubbing her warm pussy to his cock. "Let's make love, fast, very fast, Jack, please."
"Yeah, hell, why not, a celebration huh?" Ten more minutes wouldn't matter and he was actually hot and stiff, tremendously excited by the getaway, by being clean and home free with a hundred thousand in cash.
He stripped quickly, only he didn't realize how fired, how bone-weary he was now that it was over. His fingers seemed to move like lead, and when he mounted her his prick stayed hard on her silky wet softness but the rest of his body was melting, oh Jesus he was so tired, so beat, just… a… little… nap…
When he was completely out, Carol pushed him off with a look of contempt. She moved leisurely now, taking the cash from his pockets, stuffing the black valise with it. Now the bag was almost crammed full. One hundred thousand dollars. She went through his wallet and took the bills there too and emptied his pockets of change. Let them walk.
She dressed casually. No hurry. He'd be out for at least six hours, maybe as long as ten. There were eight sleeping pills emptied into that scotch, a little trick he'd taught her in Omaha. When Carol was ready, she set the valise by the door and went back to the bed, where Jack lay gently snoring, naked, his mouth open.
She wrote on his chest in bold letters in bright red lipstick. Then she leaned down and kissed him savagely, not a kiss but a lust-curse, biting, leaving blood on his lips.
"So long, darling," she whispered. "Wait for me."
An hour later Sally found him like that. At first she screamed, thinking it was blood splashed on his chest, that they'd caught up with him. But the blood was on his lips and the crimson on his chest was lipstick. She rushed to the closet and knew, before she even looked, that the bag was gone.
Feeling faint she sat on the bed, staring at her husband's chest with gazed eyes. The bold strokes said: WAIT FOR ME.
It was the same motel room they'd had before in Omaha, cheap, seedy, oppressive in the humid fall heat. They lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.