Page 11 of Trick's Trap

Tahlia limped behind the dumpster near tears. If the bouncer saw her crying, he wouldn’t let her into the card room and sheneededto get in.

In the six months since her cousins kidnapped her, she’d lived off the grid—the cash she’d taken from her father’s desk had given her a start. But it was gone now.

The first thing she’d done after escaping her family estate was to buy a train ticket to California. On her way, she made sure to pass in front of several public spaces with visible security cams. Then she’d bought new clothes and doubled back, buying a bus ticket north.

Her plan had been to wipe out her Boston bank account the next day. The minute she’d arrived, Tahlia cleaned herself up and rushed over to her bank. She’d been waiting when the manager opened the doors, but it was already too late.

Her accounts were compromised. She didn’t know if Uncle Lucas froze them or if he’d simply reported her to the police.

And I came so close.The manager had been about to hand over a cashier’s check for the balance of her accounts when he’d seen something on his screen. He’d hesitated and excused himself.

Her paranoia that morning had served her well. She’d snuck out of the office and into the bathroom only to see the man send in two uniformed guards after her. Somehow, she’d managed to sneak out and back to the bus station without being arrested.

She’d spent that first day sitting in an isolated corner of a random coffee shop. Later that evening, she broke into her office in the Math department on the Harvard campus.

Hidden in the back of her bottom drawer was a few hundred dollars. There was also a terrible fake ID, the first she’d bought to go to an Indian casino.

Tahlia never wanted her family to know about her gambling, so she began covering her tracks early on. The Kansas driver’s license would never pass muster under scrutiny, but it was good enough to get her a hotel room.

That was her first mistake. Hotels were expensive. Staying at places with familiar names in a town like Boston wiped out a substantial chunk of her cash reserve. Terrified of losing the rest, she rented a locker at the bus station to keep it safe along with a few personal items she’d left in her desk.

She’d been too afraid of going back to her apartment for anything else. Instead, she headed to a woman’s shelter.

Though jarring, things hadn’t been that terrible at the shelter. The dedicated staff tried to help her. They’d offered counseling, which she turned down, as well as help getting work, which she hadn’t.

Over the past few months, she’d done a series of odd jobs to supplement her meager resources. Working as catering staff was the best of these—at the end of the night, they let them take home leftovers. Not spending money on food had been a huge help, but her luck hadn’t held.

One night after a long night working, the shelter had been too crowded when she’d tried to come in.

Sleeping on the streets was terrifying at first. But Tahlia coped. When it happened the second time, she’d been prepared. Eventually, she made a few friends in a similar position. Crashing in pairs was a lot safer, and she learned tricks to make it bearable.

Hiding her sex had been the key. She hadn’t cut her hair but hid it, along with concealing her feminine figure in baggy men’s clothing. The alternative had been to act crazy and smear herself in garbage to make herself less of a target for assault, but that wasn’t foolproof. Neither was befriending a man to watch out for her. She hadn’t wanted to trade her body for safety out there.

Fortunately, none of the latter options had been necessary. Her disguises worked, and she’d been able to transition from the shelter to the street and back again. Her flexibility enabled her to weather the worst of her situation.

Tahlia had debated going to her friends for help, but she’d been afraid to reach out to them. Like all her familiar haunts, Tahlia knew they were being watched. Her family had tentacles everywhere. They would never stop looking for her.

Why had Uncle Lucas killed her father? The brothers hadn’t been close, but they had been allies all her life. She didn’t understand what prompted that terrible murder.

There is one thing Lucas and Dad didn’t see eye to eye on—me.

Giving herself a little shake, Tahlia wiped her tears, abruptly remembering where she was and what she had to do.

Desperate, Tahlia decided to try Chao’s tonight. She had several thousand saved in their ‘bank’. The bulk of it was her winnings from playing Patrick.

She’d avoided the gambling den out of fear that her family had learned about her illicit hobby. The purse she had been holding the night of her kidnapping contained her marker from Chao’s. True, they might not recognize it for what it was, but for months she debated on whether the casino was compromised or not.

Forced to try Chao’s now, she prayed the wound she’d inflicted on Dante had been bad enough to distract them from picking up her purse when they’d snatched her.

If they knew about Chao’s, she lost her last best hope. But she no longer had a choice. Her funds were at critical levels. Getting ready for the night at the casino made it even worse.

Thrift shops were more expensive than she realized. It took her the better part of a day to find a black dress that fit in the bargain bins. Shoes were even more difficult. After the fourth thrift store, she settled for a pair of awful stilettos she could barely walk in.

Those shoes were her downfall. The bouncer at the door was new. He hadn’t recognized her. When the heel on her four-dollar pumps broke on the steps, he turned her away.

Chao’s had standards, and she didn’t look like a VIP member anymore.

It’s true what people say—desperation is a perfume.People could smell it on you.

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