Prisoned - Marni Mann Page 0,4

won. But that didn’t mean I stopped caring—then or now. I cared more than I would ever admit. And had I run into Billy in the years following, I would have embraced him, and I would have told him I wanted more for him. I would have offered to help even if it would have gotten me in trouble. It was the least I could do.

Now, it was too late.

“I’ll be there,” I said.

“You can stay at my place.”

Anthony may not have lived in The Heart, but he didn’t live too far from it and was still deeply involved in every illegal activity that went on there. I didn’t want to see it, I certainly didn’t want to be around it, and I didn’t want to spend that much time with my brother.

“I’m going to stay in a hotel and fly out the next morning. One night there is plenty. I’ll—”

“You’ll talk to me later.”

“Right.”

I ended the call and immediately pulled up a travel website, knowing that if I didn’t book it now, I’d miss the chance and end up not going. It showed a nonstop from Tampa that got me into Atlantic City before ten in the morning and departed the next morning at eight. I added on a hotel room at what had been my favorite casino on the boardwalk. I’d never actually been inside. I’d only admired the facade and the flashing lights and the ornate glass door when I panhandled out front. I wouldn’t be panhandling this time. I wouldn’t be selling stolen bottles of water on the beach either. I would be staying in one of the rooms I had dreamed about as a kid, eating a huge meal in one of their restaurants, and having an expensive drink at one of their bars. And then, less than twenty-four hours later, I’d be back in Florida.

Far away from the memories…far away from The Heart.

Far away from everything I’d been forced to give up.

Two

Kyle

When I finally reached the front of the line, I walked up to the counter and rested my arms over it. “Kyle Lang,” I said, “checking in for one night.” I handed her my credit card.

“Thank you, Ms. Lang. I see you’ve booked a king-size bed. Will you need one key or two?”

“Just one. Thanks.”

I looked around the lobby, at the faces of all the employees, but I didn’t recognize anyone. I wondered if any of the kids from my school worked here. The only person in this town I kept in touch with was my brother. I did know that no one from The Heart was employed at any of the casinos. Their records were too long to work in a place that dealt with so much cash.

“Your room was prepaid, so I’m scanning your card to keep it on file for minibar purchases, room service, or incidentals.” She handed the card back to me along with a room key. “You’ll be on the twenty-sixth floor. The elevator is just to the right, around the bank of boardwalk-themed slots. If you left your luggage with the bellboy, it will be delivered to your room.”

I pointed at the small suitcase by my feet. “I’ve got it right here.”

“Do you have any questions, Ms. Lang?”

“No, I’m fine.”

That wasn’t the truth. The feeling inside me was far from fine. But having her tell me where the ice machine was wouldn’t make me feel better.

My feet moved on autopilot as I pulled my suitcase around the slots, into the elevator, and down the hall of my floor. Once I was inside my room, I dropped the suitcase by the door and rushed over to the windows. At some point, I would hopefully appreciate the suite I had spent a fortune on, but right now, I needed to see the view.

The window was thick glass, rimmed with black metal bars, like the ones that had been in our apartment in The Heart. There was a cloudy buildup in the corners from the sea salt, similar to my windows in Florida. The beach sat right below, the water extending as far as I could see. The sand wasn’t like the beaches I went to now. I remembered it being grainy and coarse, mixed with small pebbles and shells, especially sharp after high tide.

Even the sand was harsh in Atlantic City.

The three of us—me, Billy, and Garin—would spend our summer days at that beach below. After months of cold and shivering, the sun had felt so good on my