#when a moon shaped pool came out i was annoyed at all the reviews that felt the need to shit on king of limbs to praise amsp

[iamthekarmapolice]

arctic monkeys new lp is good. i dont like it as much as tranquility base (which is expected; tbhc was a serendipity destiny love at first note fate kind of thing) but i was expecting to not like it at all, and that’s not the case at all. i like this stylish stylised, 70s lost james bond soundtrack any day over whatever they were doing on AM

[winter-fox-queen]

Final Bets

Summary:  Alejandro enacts his daring plan to get You and your daughter free and clear.  But will things end the way he thought they would, when he foist came when you called?

Warnings:  Some violence, cursing, and the attendant and You are both female.

Final one.  THANK YOU for reading this.  And special thanks to @hnt-escape for being amazing, talented, and putting up with me.  (Also for creating the collages.). Her awesome poem is here:

This time, he knew who was on the other side of the door when someone knocked on it.  He opened it up, resolved, serious, a little nervousness building, coiling inside his stomach.  

The front desk clerk.  Looking equally resolved.  He nods, tosses the key on the bed, and shuts the door.

“You remember what I told you?”  He pulls over in an alley, dropping her off in a blind spot so there’s no record of them together.  Casablanca rises like a debauched king over them, not too far a walk.  He hands her an envelope.  She nods, shoves it away.  He takes her chin gently.  “If it looks dangerous, if there’s even the tiniest bit of danger…run.  Nothing’s worth your life.”

She nods again, smiles.  “You can depend on me.”

“Take your cut before her daughter gets there, leave the bag, and split.”

“You don’t trust her?”

“I didn’t raise her.”  He says, looking at the rearview mirror, watching now, always.  “I could have been…not biologically, I was out of the picture, then.  But if she needed help, I would have come.  I always made sure she had a way to reach me.”  He shrugged.  “So, her kid doesn’t know me…why would she trust me?  And that means I…we…can’t trust her.”

“But you trust me?”

He smiles at her, and nods.  A bit like he’s surprised to admit it.

“Alright.”  She gets out of the car and he reverses down the alley, finds a cruddy lot where the cameras are probably broken and parks.  Pays the guy at the kiosk cash.  Reviews what your daughter told him about security protocols.  Hope you were right, that the whole staff had grown soft, because people were too afraid to try and steal from the Casablanca so the guards were really more show than tell.

Every step, he has two things going on in his mind.  Mentally he’s estimating where the attendant is, sees her enter the casino just ahead of him, so he slows down, resets the timer in his head.  The other thing, of course, is looking for you.

He told her daughter, on the phone earlier, not to let you know.   So when you look at him, at first just a security guard in a trim suit looking for danger, then realization as to who he is warms your eyes and there’s a softness to your face for a moment before the mask slips back into place.

He’s wearing a white shirt and black pants, and the red jacket again.  He know he smells of chlorine and bad decisions.

But still, he makes his way over.  Watches a craps game but does not wager. Cashes the 5,000 chip out.  Thinks. She left the gift shop by now.  She must be at the elevator.  Now she’s on the third floor.  Now it’s the restroom.  Let’s give it a moment, in case someone is in that stall…

He buys one 100.00 chip.  The teller didn’t want to give him something so low, but he just stood there and smiled, with his biggest, sharpest smile, tacky sunglasses hiding his eyes, changing the shape of his face.

He plays the roulette, the ultimate wheel of fortune.  Wins, which is annoying because he knows he doesn’t have time to cash it in, so he dumps in on the tray of a nearby waitress and finishes his approach.

“I’m sorry.”  He says, when he gets close enough.

You frown.  “For what?”

He sticks his hands in his pockets.  Casablanca was one of the casinos that still armed their guards.  The gun was casino property, logged in and out.  

“Everything.  I wish.  I should have gone with you.  I should never even have left you for any reason at all.”

You’re scanning the room, trying to stay composed, but he can see it, a flicker here and there of emotion.

In his head, the elevator dinged.  She’d be leaving, making her way to the doors.  The loot in a brand new bag.  

“I could stand here all day and apologize.  But it won’t matter.”

“Why not?”  Did he hear a little desperation, a little longing?  Or was he hoping to hear it?

“Because of this.”  He grabbed her wrist, slung her roughly around, his right hand yanking her gun out of its holster.  Left arm around her, pressing her to him, right hand shooting in what he hoped was a civilian safe direction before pressing it to her temple.

“I am so sorry sweetheart.”  He whispers in your ear.  

“What do you want?”  you scream.  “Let me go!”

He doesn’t want the guards to think heist.  He doesn’t want them to think money, or danger to the casino.  He wants the other guards to think there is just one problem, and it is right here.  He wants confusion.  

“We’re going outside and you can tell the moon and the stars to stop talking to me!”  He screams.  “I am so fucking sick of them talking to me!”

He starts pulling you back, ranting and raving, into the men’s room.  No cameras, and one of those that was positioned with two sets of doors.  

“Run on through, and start screaming.”  He says, shedding his skin, shoving the red jacket into a bin.  “Your daughter will text you the meeting place.”

The guard ran in only a second later.  They look at the messy haired man, hands up, thick rimmed glasses, blue tee shirt.  

“He took her that way…through the other door.”  His voice is completely different, thick Spanish accent, soft and timid and very afraid and completely non threatening.  

The guard kept going. Alejandro adjusts his glasses, takes one more look at himself in the mirror, and leaves the restroom, flowing through the crowds.  Worried over you.  Hoping you were shedding your skin, too, coming out the other side safe.

There you were.  Hair down.  Suit coat off.  You were wearing a white shell, arms bare.  You winked at him, and then the crowd took you away, just as they started, finally, locking down the casino.  He made it out, barely, and kept walking.

He pulled out of the parking lot, and she was there.  The attendant.  He stopped, smiling up at her, and she took something out of her bag.  A smaller purse.  Tiger stripped gold leather.  She hands it to him.  “To go with your shirt.”  He opens it.  500,00 dollars, probably, give or take.

“Is this?”

“Your share.  I don’t trust her either.”

He tucks it under the seat, behind his legs.  “You know,” he says, contemplatively.  “If we go left, we could go off, become private eyes.  I think you could probably buy your way in to a very new practice.”

She leans on the door.  “And right?”

He grins up at her.  “How do you feel about moral ambiguity?  

“I don’t know.”  She’s smiling a little now.

“Or…I could drop you off at the bus station.  Then you’d really be free.”

She came around to the passenger side and got in.  He started driving away, not wanting to draw any more attention by stalling.

“No to the bus station,” she says after a bit.  “Can I think about the other two?”

“Absolutely.  You have time…I need to drive us somewhere first.  Make sure of something.”  He clears his throat.  “If you don’t mind?”

She shakes her head.  “Does it have to do with the note you asked me to give her daughter?’

“Yeah.  Go ahead and sleep.”  He says.  “It’s a long drive.”

**

He’s sitting on the edge of the pool, tee shirt and shorts, clean shaven.  He looks like no one he’s ever been before.  His legs are in the water, and rose petals swirl around.  The one place you’d be able to find easily.  If you wanted to.

“How long should I wait?”  He asks her.  She’s lounging on a lounge chair, reading a book on basic private investigation.  She hasn’t told him, right or left, yet.  He doesn’t mind waiting.  He can live a long time on half a million dollars.  

“How long did you give her?”

“Twenty four hours.”

“Give her at least 48.  Maybe even 72.  She might have gotten caught up.”

He shakes his head.  “She got clear.  Her kid texted me.”

“Alright.  If we don’t hear anything, we’ll check out the day after tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.”  He captures some of the rose petals in his hand.

“Will you…will you be miserable, if she doesn’t come?”

He grins over his shoulder at her.  “No.  I won’t be miserable at all.”

She returns his smile, holds up the book.  “Left, then.”

Thanks to @sharkbait77 and everyone who commented and showed support.