Page 1 of Packed Up In Vegas

Iwas startled awake by the slam of the hotel door, sitting bolt upright to see my fiancé standing there, looking like he’d rolled through a gutter. “Hey, babe. Are

you just getting back?”

Jerry stomped past me and into the bathroom, turning on the shower. His usually clean, mild beta scent was tainted with sweat, alcohol, and a herby lemon fragrance that made my nose wrinkle. Scent blockers drowned out my omega scent—Jerry’s preference, he said it was overwhelming—and usually muted my response to others’, but some were unpleasant enough to override the blockers.

I tiptoed out of bed to peek in on him. “Were you out all night? Are you okay?”

“Jesus, I’m fucking fine.” He shoved a hand through his sandy blond hair, making it stick up in every direction. “I was at the casino. I don’t need you grilling me over nothing.”

I chewed my lip. “Okay, sorry. Why don’t we have a rest day today? Chill by the pool instead of going to see the Hoover Dam.”

“Callie. For god’s sake. Stop bothering me and let me shower and sleep.”

“Fine. I’ll be down at the pool after you’ve rested.” I certainly didn’t want to stay up here if he was going to be an asshole. I changed into my swimsuit; wrapped a sarong around my hips; put on my flip-flops; grabbed my tote with my sunscreen, hat, and book; and abandoned the hotel room.

It was hot as balls outside. We’d come in July at Jerry’s insistence that it was off-season and cheaper. I didn’t bother arguing that it was off-season because it was miserable that time of year. I didn’t win many arguments in our household and I’d honestly stopped trying at this point. I ordered myself an iced coffee and some breakfast after taking up a spot on a lounge chair in the shade. The good thing about being chased out of the room this early was that almost no one else was at the pool yet, which meant I had my pick of spots. I braided my dark hair to keep it off my skin and tucked it under my hat before liberally applying sunscreen so I didn’t burst into flames from the sun reflecting off the water.

I was halfway through my book by the time I finished the last of my drink and had consumed every bite. Jerry still hadn’t made his way down, but I reasoned if he had been out all night I probably wouldn’t see him for a few more hours. He was going to be pissy after fucking up his sleep schedule like this, but I’d rather deal with him rested than hungover.

The day got progressively hotter and I ordered myself a slushy drink a little after noon, sitting on the edge of the pool under a shade with my feet in the water.

“Ma’am.” One of the servers approached me with a frown.

I lifted my sunglasses to see him better. “Yeah?”

“I’m afraid we weren’t able to put the drink on your room tab.”

“Oh, that’s weird. It was working fine earlier.” I pulled out my phone to call Jerry to ask if he could look into the issue, but it went straight to voicemail. With a sigh, I focused on the server. “I left my purse up in my room and I don’t have cash or card down here with me. Can I go up, get it, and come right back?”

“Do you have anything you can leave to ensure you’ll return?”

I passed over my phone. “Does this work?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll watch for you to come back.” His tone was unnecessarily judgy, but it probably wasn’t the first time he’d encountered a non-paying customer, though it was definitely my first time being one.

Annoyed, I made my way back into the hotel and upstairs. I didn’t want to see Jerry when he was in a mood, and I’d been intending to stay out of his way until he was ready to see me, but that couldn’t be avoided now. When I stepped off the elevator and turned down the hall toward our room, I saw all my things in the hallway.

What the fuck?

The cleaning staff were coming up the hall from the opposite direction, looking at me curiously. I swiped my keycard and the light blinked red. “Come on.”

I swiped it again, and it remained resolutely red.

One of the staff approached me. “Miss, do you need help?”

“Please. My card won’t work. I don’t know why my luggage is out here when we’re not supposed to check out for a couple more days.”

Jerry was probably having a hissy fit, which I didn’t want to broadcast to them. It wasn’t the first time he’d tossed something of mine out a door or window when he couldn’t handle his emotions.

They opened up the room for me, but Jerry wasn’t inside, nor were any of his things. I stood in the entryway, trying to figure out what had happened. I couldn’t call him again with my phone back with the pool staff, but surely he hadn’t gone far. Maybe he was down at one of the restaurants? But then why were all of his things gone?

Okay, Callie, just breathe. What was I supposed to do now?

First, I needed my purse. I opened up my suitcase, the contents spilling out. My purse was among the chaos, and I took a few moments to repack everything properly and change into regular clothes before I thanked the staff and went to reclaim my phone and pay for my drink with some cash in my wallet.

I tried phoning Jerry again and it went to voicemail once more.

Fuck.

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