Obsessive Thirst

1 TESSA The Incan sun god taunted me, unaware of the Glock in my purse. He should have sensed my present mood—pissed off. Perilous. Where was Bobby? I wasn’t sure who I’d kill first—him for worrying me sick—or whoever held him captive. (If there was such a person. It was more than likely that he got stuck between the legs of some pot princess). My fiancé was “missing”—again. Three days this time. Longer than ever before. On former occasions when he forgot to call, at least he showed up in time for breakfast. I’d be angry as a hornet, imagining all night the trouble he was in, but at least I knew he was alive. This time neither Tribal Police nor the Sheriff’s Office were eagerly pursuing his whereabouts, and I could read the writing on the wall. They figured he’d run out on me. Not that they were unkind. Patting me on the back, and speaking in soothing tones, “He’ll show up, Ms. Bancroft. Always does, right?” The Incan god’s eyes flashed green in front of me, and his head spun in circles. I took a sip of my rum and coke which tasted strangely bitter in my mouth, noting its effect on my head. Calming. Anesthetizing. Exactly the point. Meanwhile, the sun god was tripping, flashing “One last pick!!!” on the screen. This was it. If Mr. South American Cranky Pants sucked up my money on this final spin, I’d be the last in a long line of suckers who’d come to the casino with a few hundred bucks and left with none. I crossed my fingers and looked around, wondering if the pensioners surrounding me, sitting at blackjack tables, roulette wheels, craps tables, but mainly perched on their cozy betting stools like me in front of blinking lights, were here for the same reason I was. Company. Pathetic. This blinking, beeping, teasing machine was a hell of a lot better than sitting at home alone. Even if I had to feed it money to hang out. Except that now something was going on. I wasn’t a big gambler, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that the machine was reaching some kind of c****x. “Oh, you got the bonus. Last time I saw that, the lady hit a mega win.” My slot machine neighbor leaned towards me in her peach-colored sweat suit, adorned with painted roses, butterflies, and sparrows. Her earrings and lipstick matched the fabric. Suddenly she shouted in my ear, “Horace! Horace, get over here. It’s another big win.” She leaned closer still; the spinning gold coins on the display put her in a trance. Horace shuffled up behind her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders and murmured, “Here it comes.” He pulled a long drag on his cigarette. “The burning hot jackpot challenge. Hold onto your hats, ladies.” I wasn’t wearing a hat, but noticed I was out of drink and swung my right arm towards the server, requesting another rum and coke. “Hey,” said my peachy neighbor, “You gotta press the button to spin the wheel.” Apparently I wasn’t excited enough to befit the circumstance, and that’s how I liked it. Three drinks in. There were no worries, and no expectations. No disappointments. “Okay, okay. Hold your horses.” I said, tapping the big button to see if I got past the forty thousand credits just racked up by the bonus. I should be excited, right? If those credits equaled dollars, I could pay off my points to the Dragos. I owed them back pay for leasing the coveted spa-space in the casino, and the ruthless businessmen had been uncharacteristically understanding about my tardy payment. Their patience wouldn’t last forever. So why didn’t my blood pump faster, imagining what could happen if this machine paid out? No more being afraid to come to work, in case they tired of waiting for their percentage and decided to break my fingers as a warning. No more begging Bobby to bring money home for a change, instead of spending it on whatever it was out there that sucked up his take on the c******s grow like a seventies disco diva sucked up blow. The Incan god grew agitated, shooting off flames behind the giant spinning wheel that promised winning prizes in different sizes: mini, minor, major… and I’ll be damned if the blasted thing didn’t come to a painstaking stop, landing on “grand.” “Holy s**t, does that number mean what I think it means?” I put my fingers up to my mouth, rubbing them back and forth across my lips. “If you’re thinking seventy thousand big ones, you’re darn tootin’.” Horace sounded as pleased as if he won the money himself. “All you have to do is hit that pay out button and claim your prize. Here comes one of the floor managers to help.” My eyes locked on the numbers over my head, as if they might puff away like a cloud of smoke, “I don’t know what this little guy’s name is,” reaching a hand up to the screen, I stroked the intimidating, gilded-faced dude with the green flaming hair and skeleton teeth, “But he’s beginning to grow on me.” Tomorrow, I thought. Tomorrow my feelings will kick in. Give it time. “Apu-punchau.” A familiar voice husked the name, and before I could stop it, my p***y was purring in response. Not that he needed to know that. “Gesundheit.” I said. “Apu-punchau. The name of the god bringing you good luck tonight. Yours is the biggest take of the evening so far.” His words vibrated through me, and for the first time since Bobby’s disappearance, I wanted to feel my existence. His next words were more of a promise than a threat, “Just in the nick of time, Tessa. I kept them at bay as long as I could, but we’re not running a charity operation here.” His hot breath landed on my bare shoulder, and a hum of pleasure slipped from my lips; my entire body longed to slip into his like a warm tub. It wasn’t right. I should be sick with worry. Not luxuriating in the sweet sensation of Enzo Drago’s voice dripping all over my skin. He reached out his hand to pull me off the stool, the inked bands which looped around his bulging arms concealed beneath the premium quality business shirt sewn in Europe. Every inch of me lit up like a slot machine flashing the high winning payout with the burning, urgent need to possess him. WTF? Fiancé missing. One day I’m in debt to the Dragos and the next I have everything I need to pay the bills. Thrilling at the thought of my dad’s best friend moving inside me should not be at the top of my agenda right now. I needed another drink to calm my a*s down. “Come with me to claim your winnings, Tessa.” The cut of his tux, and the regal assurance that all Drago men possessed, as if they exited the womb a burning hot jackpot winner, intoxicated my senses like rum had replaced all of my blood. I stumbled a little, getting off the stool, and he grabbed my elbow to lead me past the crowd that gathered, steadying me. It wasn’t the best idea to follow him like a lost puppy, given my outstanding debt to his family’s empire. I was about to learn he controlled not only the stakes but also the rules of the game. Enzo had already made his mind up to treat me like a toy. He’d play with me even though my fiancé, Bobby, was a missing person who nobody besides me missed at all.