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Vegas Hearts	By : shockvaluegr Category: G through L > Kingdom Hospital Views: 793 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the television series that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Come Go With Me

Cori was awakened by a knock at her door. She sat up so fast she lost a curler, and clutched the blankets to her breast. It was morning, surely this wasn't Holman coming to her now to seduce her? Her heart accelerated at a sickening rate. �Yes?� she called in a quavering, morning-cracked voice.

�Uhhh�� Holman intoned through her door, �Ray's on the phone,� he said, his voice deep and gruff, tired. Cori let out a huge breath. She began yanking curlers out of her hair and frantically brushing her dark locks. �Should I have him call back?� he asked, and there was a soft bump, as if he was leaning against her door with a shoulder.

�No. I'm coming,� she answered finally, throwing on her robe. Oh God, he�ll see me first thing in the morning, she realized, cringing.

She opened the door and her heart leaped to see he was still shirtless, so close, just outside her bedroom. She brushed past him quickly, afraid to linger in such close quarters with him, and hurried to the phone. It was Ray, wondering why she was still in bed. Holman slowly came up behind her, making her pulse race still faster. Ray was calling to tell her he would not be home that evening as planned, but the following afternoon. �Think you can take another night with those two?� he asked, laughing.

�Yeah, sure, why not?� she said, forcing a laugh, sure that any moment Holman would touch her in some way as she was chained to the phone. But he stood silently behind her and made no move as he lit his first smoke of the day. Cori chatted a few minutes with Ray about houses in Las Vegas and whether to get one with a swimming pool, then they said their goodbyes.

Pauli came in the front door, rubbing his eyes. �I gotta sleep,� he said, then his face broke into a silly grin. �Jesus, Frank, put a shirt on! Cori don't wanna see that!� Cori could have argued the point, but she smiled instead, playing along.

�What?� said Holman through a heavy breath of smoke, smirking in mock innocence.
Cori headed for the kitchen and heard Frank say in a low voice to Pauli, �She tore it off me.�

Pauli broke into hysterical, quacking laughter, too quick to hide it. Cori turned back as if she did not know the source of his laughter. Holman was putting his shirt back on, grinning at her, and winked over Pauli's shoulder. She smiled broadly at him then, their first shared smile. Their eyes held for a heartbeat or two. Then Holman grabbed his cigarettes off the table and headed for the front door. �I gotta go. Gimme your keys, Pauli.� Pauli rummaged in his pockets and produced the keys.

�Hey, don't take so long this time, Frank! I wanna get a shower too!� Pauli warned.
Holman took the keys and smiled at Cori. �Be back��
She smiled, liking his tousled hair and noting that he needed a shave. �Bye, bye, Frank,� she said. He gave her a second glance and his smile widened; it had not escaped his notice that it was the first time she had used his name. Then he was out the door; she heard him gun the engine of Pauli's car and drive away.
Pauli was looking at her. �Looks like you're gettin' along pretty good with Frank.�
Cori read his face carefully. He didn't seem suspicious, only typically sappy Pauli. �Yeah, he's not so bad,� she admitted.

�He's a funny guy,� said Pauli, moving to the couch.

�Yeah�� She agreed, smiling wistfully.

The morning and afternoon dragged. Cori let Pauli sleep on the couch and tried to keep herself quietly busy. One more night. She had begun to accept in herself the odd attraction she was feeling for Holman, and the knowledge that he would be alone in the house with her again tonight filled her stomach with flittering excitement. She had not felt so pleasantly on edge in years, would not have thought herself capable of it anymore.
Tempering the excitement, however, was the dark thought that by tomorrow, Ray would have returned, and Holman would be gone. When would she ever see him again? She tried to numb herself to the thought that she might not ever. She picked at her lunch and found herself staring into space, recalling tidbits of Holman; a look, a smile, the accidental sensuality of his hand resting on his bare abdomen as he slept.

When at long last Cori heard the sound of Pauli's big car pull into her drive, it was all she could do to sit still. Feigning nonchalance, she puffed a cigarette and flipped the pages of a magazine at the kitchen table.
�Hey, Pauli,� Holman said as he came in, going straight to the living room and not seeing her in the kitchen. His hair looked slightly damp.
Pauli woke and sat up, looking more toadish than ever in his grogginess. Holman handed him his keys back. �Pauli, you stink. Beat it.�
Pauli took the keys and put his shoes on. �Yeah, yeah�� he said grouchily. Cori smiled in the kitchen. Pauli wasn't any more a morning person in the afternoon than he would have been in the morning. �You want I should bring dinner back?� Pauli asked just before he left. Cori told him that would be fine and he took his leave, still yawning.
She looked at Holman. Alone at last, she could not help thinking.

Holman sidled over to the kitchen table, glancing down at her magazine. �Hey, baby. Whatcha reading?�
Cori's mind stuck on Hey, baby so that it took her a few moments to collect her thoughts and answer. �Oh, just a ladies' mag,� she said, closing it and shoving it aside as if it were the most dull activity on earth. He sat down opposite her and stuck a smoke between his lips. He leaned on the table with his elbow as he smoked; she had noticed that he always seemed to be propped against something, as if he were tired.
�Ray still in Vegas?� he asked, the words floating out on clouds of smoke.
That was a strange question, the answer so obvious she looked at him quizzically. "Uh huh, where else would he be?" she said at last.

�Well, he oughta be home more,� Holman said, shrugging and looking away. He'd been drinking again and his eyes possessed the half-glazed softness that inexplicably made him even more attractive to her. Cori stuck her fingers in the bowl of coins that she and Pauli had used as ante the night before and stirred them thoughtfully.
Should she defend Ray or not? She did not feel like doing so, but had a sense of loyalty. �Mmm, Ray's a busy man,� she said finally. Holman was watching her fingers stir the coins, looking half stupefied. He�s drunker than I thought, Cori realized. She felt an unexpected wave of desire break over her, knowing that if she were to make any move on him, he would take her. She knew it.
Holman rose suddenly, startling her, and crossed the kitchen to the small radio on the refrigerator and turned it on. Jazz blared out tinnily from the speaker. �Christ,� he said, and turned it down.

�Ray's station,� Cori explained.

�Jeez, he likes that shit?� Holman mumbled, peering close at the dial. Cori laughed. He turned to her, his fingers waiting on the receiver dial. �What do you like?� he asked, ash fluttering down from his cigarette end.
�Oh, good stuff. Ronettes, Supremes, you know�� she said. Holman tuned in the rock n roll station she listened to when Ray wasn't in the house, and found Party Doll playing.

�That's better,� remarked Holman. �You got better taste than Ray.� He seemed restless, leaning against her counter, looking at the floor as he smoked. He�s bored, she thought guiltily. Three days in someone else's house had to be stultifying.
Cori cast about desperately for some sort of entertainment, and became aware again of the bowl of coins her fingers were still stirring. �Hey, you wanna play cards? You can play with Pauli's winnings and lose it all for him.� That made him laugh, and her soul sang at the sound.

They played. Cori had fun, much more than she'd had with Pauli. She watched Holman's hands as he shuffled and dealt the cards. He never held his own cards as a hand but laid them face down on the table and picked them up repeatedly. And he was very lucky. He doubled Pauli's small pile of coins, then tripled it. She began to wonder if he was cheating somehow, but he did not seem dexterous enough for that, his movements were too slow and lazy. Sometimes their eyes met across the table briefly, and she was pierced by the clear depth of his. The upbeat music lifted her mood even farther and she tapped her toes on the floor.
The afternoon passed into early evening, and she did not even notice that Pauli was long overdue. Song after song echoed through the kitchen, and it seemed they were playing all her favorites. It was wonderful, so liberating just to be able to listen to her music with a man her age who also enjoyed it. Whenever she had put on her music around Ray, he always turned it off angrily, saying that only kids listened to �that stuff.� Cori was sure that Frank was about her age, and he liked it as much as she did. She felt a small bond forged from their sharing of this.

As they played, Cori could see that he was sobering up. His stunning eyes regained their intensity so that she began to avoid them. They spoke little, content to listen to the radio. She found it strange and enjoyable that they seemed to have no need for words, and suffered none of the discontent and frustration most strangers feel when silent together. All the same, she loved it when he did speak, to hear the way it rumbled deep from his chest.
She looked at her dwindling pile of coins and finally called his bluff, only half-joking. �All right, you. Are you cheating somehow?�

He looked up at her over his cigarette-holding hand in mild surprise. �Me?� He shook his head, and grinned wryly in what appeared to be embarrassment. �I don't know how to cheat,� he admitted, and laughed at himself.
Cori giggled. �I guess you're just real lucky then, huh?�

�Not usually,� he said, an ironic twist to his smile.
Cori glanced toward the living room, and saw for the first time that it was dark outside. Worry flitted through her mind. �Where's Pauli?� she wondered aloud.
She got up and wandered to the front window, to affirm he had truly not come back yet. Holman lethargically followed her. Just as she was about to turn from the window, Pauli's big car appeared and turned in to the driveway. She sighed in relief, then furrowed her brow as she saw Pauli get out and look about himself in obvious nervousness. Something was wrong.

�Pauli, what's the matter?� Cori asked.
But Pauli looked past her as he stepped inside the house. �Where's Frank? I gotta talk to him,� he said, looking agitated. He brushed past her and met Holman in the living room. �I just got picked up by Torello,� said Pauli, coming straight to the point. Holman's face hardened; even from where Cori stood by the front door she could see his jaw tighten and his eyes flash.
Torello. The cop. Cori had heard Ray mention that name often, could not count the number of times she had heard him yell the name accompanied by obscenities.
�Fuck�� said Holman glumly. �What for?�

�Nothin',� said Pauli, �He wanted to chat.� Holman looked down at the floor and sighed, as if he knew what was coming next. �He's lookin' for you,� Pauli continued. �He asked where you was at two, three times. I said I didn't know.�

Holman nodded, still staring at the floor. Cori tried to melt into the shadows of the foyer, wanting to know everything.
�He asked where Ray was too, and I told him he's in Vegas, but he kept saying, 'Where's Holman',� Pauli elaborated.
Holman shook his head and muttered, �I gave him Noonan.�
Pauli dismissed this. �That ain't gonna be enough for Torello. He wants you now.� He paused. �Maybe it's about the Ganz job.�

Holman rubbed his nose. �No, he don't care about that book. It's gotta be the Novak shit.�

�Well, whatever it is, he's lookin' for you. I was afraid someone would tail me back here, but I don't think they did. Sure am glad your Stude ain't here,� Pauli thought aloud.

Cori watched Holman. For the first time, he seemed extremely alert and focused. And enraged, rooted to the spot by a suppressed furious fear. Even though he had not moved, she could see he was breathing hard and one fist was tightly gripping the back of the chair he stood by.
The Novak job! Suddenly the name clicked in her mind. The crime has been in the papers not long ago, had made the front page. The home invasion and murder, she recalled it now. And Noonan, the name Holman had just mentioned, had been the suspect killed in a police chase days later. So Holman had given up Noonan to Torello. Now Torello was targeted on Holman. Cori felt ill. She wondered if Holman had been the one to beat Mrs. Novak to death.

Just then, she realized both Holman and Pauli were looking at her where she stood in the foyer. Both wore the guilty expressions of men caught whizzing in a public place. She emerged from the foyer casually. �Don't mind me. I hear this stuff all the time,� she lied, and strolled into the room to sit on the couch. How would they know how much Ray told her in the privacy of their home? Pauli was befuddled that she had not excused herself to another part of the house, and Holman too seemed distracted by her presence. She crossed her legs and sat quietly, waiting for their conversation to resume.
�Uhhhhh�� Holman drawled uncomfortably, and edged toward the kitchen, taking Pauli with him. Cori examined her nails and listened.
�Should we call Ray?� asked Pauli, low.

�Nah...I dunno,� said Holman, indecisive. Cori heard him draw in a deep, long breath and expel it angrily. �Fuckin' Noonan, man. Good thing he's already dead, 'cause I'd kill him for all this shit,� he growled. There was more silence. Cori picked up a nail file and sawed casually at her nails, her ears straining for more. It seemed that Noonan had been the culprit in the Novak murder, which made her feel marginally better about Holman, but her stomach still twisted.

�Maybe you should get outta here,� Pauli suggested, �If Torello finds you here it's big trouble for Ray.�
Cori glanced at Holman. He was restless, shifting his weight back and forth, and began to pace small irregular circles around the floor. He looked as if he was getting more and more worked up as the bad news sunk in, and Cori kept an eye on him anxiously. If he exploded, would he be as bad as Ray?

�Shit. I dunno. If I just split, Ray'll kill me. I'm supposed to stay here,� he said, agitated. More silence from both men as they thought it over.
�Well, look, Frank. Torello don't know you're here. He don't even know you're in town, or else he wouldn't be askin' me where you're at.� Holman nodded, his hands on his hips, head dropped, listening intently. �Long as you stay inside, he can't find you. Torello'd probably never think in a million years you'd be at Ray's house, anyway,� Pauli said, smiling. Holman did not smile but seemed to relax a fraction, going back into his more usual slumping posture. Pauli reached out and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. �You just don't go outside tonight, and tomorrow, when Ray gets back, you're gone.�

�Yeah, I'm gone,� Holman said in a voice heavy with irony. Cori stopped filing her nails. Gone. Tomorrow. Well, what did you expect after tomorrow? she asked herself. That you�d see him every day? He�d be gone for you tomorrow anyway, she reminded herself.

�I'm gonna go outside and keep real good watch all night,� said Pauli, determined. �If I see Torello or any of them guys, I'll let yous know.�

�All right, Pauli,� said Holman, nodding at the floor.

Cori watched Holman pace her living room floor, smoking. He'd been at it for half an hour even though Pauli was out front keeping watch. She had no idea what to say, and could not take her eye from him, still wary of his dark mood. His nervousness had not abated. As he walked a ragged track repeatedly before her, she noticed the light sheen of sweat glistening on his neck and chest, saw how he would snap the cigarette from his lips after each drag. On the radio, Jackie Wilson sang about his lonely teardrops. Cori wished to somehow make things better for Holman, but past experiences with Ray in such a state had taught her painful lessons to keep to herself.

Holman stopped, seemed to remember that she was present and asked, with a tone almost desperate, �Hey, do you have anything to drink around?� She looked up at him, reluctant to intoxicate someone so stressed, but more fearful to refuse him. She fetched a beer from the refrigerator and proffered it. He took it from her, nearly seizing it, and she watched as he guzzled it entire, his eyes closing in pleasure.
He handed the empty back and gestured to the refrigerator. �Uh, can I have another?� he asked, his head ducked and his eyes elsewhere.
Cori raised her eyebrows but was not about to stand in his way. �Help yourself,� she said. Holman retrieved what he wanted, drinking more slowly this time around. He seemed a bit breathless now, and inhaled deeply.

Cori returned to her former seat at the kitchen table, her unplayed hand of cards still laying there where their last game had been interrupted. Holman belched and resumed his seat across from her. His skin was flushed and beaded with sweat, but he had calmed considerably.

�Hey, you never had any dinner,� Cori said. �Want me to make you something?�

�No, I'm not hungry,� he said regretfully. Cori did not push, carefully observing him. He stared at the floor moodily. Looking at his strong jaw, she had the strangest desire to know what it would feel like cupped in her palms. She cleared her throat and began counting her few remaining coins to distract herself, but an insistent image reigned in her mind - a vision of Holman the previous night, his physical strength proudly displayed to a darkened room. The power latent in those lithe, well-built arms and chest.

Just then, as if knowing her thoughts, he met her eyes. Cori tensed. That delicious, languorous depth had returned to them, the lazy softness that enabled her to bear his gaze. Their eyes locked for a long moment, and her mind ran wild with possibilities. He was so rough, beautiful in his way. She wanted him, terrible as he was. A drunk, a thief, and maybe even a killer, but wasn't her own husband all of those things? She exercised willpower she hadn�t known she possessed to restrain herself.
He blinked slowly at her, almost sleepily, and took another swig from his bottle. She tried not to think of how much she liked the taste of beer in a man's kiss as she saw his lips meet the mouth of the bottle. She was shocked at herself, that she could feel such wanton pull toward a man she scarcely knew.
Cori tried to think of something to talk about. Perhaps if she talked, she would not think so much. �So...Torello, huh?� she began, nodding her head knowingly. �Sure have heard that name a lot in this house,� she said, hoping to establish trust.
Holman's lips turned up slightly. �Yeah, I'll bet. Ray hates his guts.� He set aside his empty bottle and helped himself to another in the fridge, then sat back down a little abruptly.
�You're not crazy about him either,� Cori observed.
Holman smiled and sniffed, �Gave me a hell of a nosebleed last time I saw him.�
�Were you fighting with him?�
Holman shook his head. �No. Huh-uh. He punched me in my cell.� Cori could only imagine what might have provoked that, and barely suppressed a smile.

Holman upended his bottle again, and Cori could not fathom how he could consume such a vast amount of liquid. He pushed his coins around aimlessly on the table, looking morose.
Hating to see how his good mood from earlier had disintegrated, Cori apologized for him. �Sorry you're having such a bad night!�
He chuckled deeply, �Oh, this isn't a bad night at all.� He indicated his bottle. �I've got something to drink,� he met her eyes, �a beautiful woman for company,� here he leaned back indolently, �and I'm gettin' paid for it!� Cori flushed. She was pleasantly surprised at the compliment.
Holman stuck his smoke in his mouth to free his hands and doffed his shirt, leaving his upper body clothed in only his white tank. �Hot in here,� he muttered. Cori tensed at the sight of his entirely exposed, powerfully lean arms just across the table.
She thought of Torello again, and wondered if he had indeed trailed Pauli to her house, waiting to catch a glimpse of Holman or Ray.

Cori rose and went to the front window to make herself feel better. It was raining, sheets of it driving down beneath the streetlamps, and onto Pauli's car in the driveway, backed in with its big square nose pointed out. She could see Pauli sitting in there, barely visible, and she felt better. Holman was probably safer in her house than in any other place in Chicago. Following her, he came to the window, and her heart quickened; he was so close. Now being half drunk, would he be even more inclined to his shenanigans? She half hoped so.
�Hey, I'm supposed to be watching out for you, not the other way around,� he joked. She turned, looking over her shoulder at him. His charismatic smile soothed her even as his eyes set her heart pounding. His eyes moved over her face, and she was again tormented with wondering how he judged her. His examination of her dropped to her neck, and he shifted aside half a step so that he was directly behind her, where Cori couldn't see him.
Facing the window again, she sensed that he was close behind her, leaning ever closer. A glance at their reflection in the window confirmed this, and she held her breath. She nearly jumped when she felt him softly touch her hair; he was leaning so close that his face brushed her there, a featherlight nuzzle that gave her immediate goosebumps. He touched her nowhere else, but stayed momentarily, his face partially hidden by her dark locks, eyes closed, inhaling softly. Cori felt his breath warm her neck through her hair. That he touched her nowhere else focused the sensation there to a waiting, yearning peak that made her bite her lip, afraid to move.
At last, he moved away, and Cori was disappointed that he only hoisted his bottle to his lips again. Surely that was not all he intended to do? She thought he had intended to kiss her, some real gesture that she might reciprocate. She stared out the window to mask her turmoil. She could smell the beer on him and the faint, pleasantly masculine scent of his sweat.

Holman left her side to raid the fridge once more. Cori sat down on the couch; the brief rollercoaster of anticipation, excitement, then disappointment had left her feeling suddenly weak. Holman meandered back into the room, hesitated, then sat on the couch with her. Not in the chair. Excitement flooded up unbearably in Cori again.
The radio was fading some, static coming in over the disc jockey's voice. �....weatherman says it's gonna be a long night of rain, folks. Cuddle up with your sweetheart and I'll be rockin' with ya through the midnight hour��

Holman fished for his lighter. �I don't have a sweetheart,� he said, as if he were talking back to the disc jockey, or to himself. He grinned at her, making his cigarette swivel outwards. His smile was infectious, and she felt the corners of her own lips pull back, as if by strings he manipulated. �See, your sweetheart's away, and I don't have one,� he said, lighting his smoke and throwing her a sidelong glance full of mischief. �We're lonelier than Pauli.� Cori giggled at that, though it wasn't true in the slightest. Loneliness was an impossibility with a powerful presence like his.
�I don't think we're that bad,� she argued in a friendly way.
�Nah,� he agreed, �We got each other, right?� he reached out and gave her earlobe a playful tweak, his eyes sparkling, then took another drink. Cori was charmed and excited that he had ventured to touch her again, no matter how briefly. Holman seemed unaware of his effect on her, and not excited himself in the least as he lounged beside her sedately. Worse, he began to yawn, and Cori knew that the consumption of beer had done its work on him. She was chagrined that the night's excitement appeared to be coming to a close. Sure enough, within minutes his eyes had closed and he began to nod off.

Cori got up and turned out the lights in the kitchen, then the living room, leaving only the one by the couch where Holman would sleep. She nearly forgot the radio. It was fading badly in the weather, and hissed as she came near it, like a cornered wild creature. She silenced it, and stood for a moment, noting how peaceful her home now was, with the driving rain on the roof above the only sound.

Cori saw that Frank had shifted to a sleeping position on the couch, and she went to turn off his lamp for him. She clicked it out and turned to go.
�Wait, c'mere�� came his voice from below in the dark. She froze, waiting for her eyes to adjust, and within moments she could make him out by the streetlight through the drapes. �I wanna tell you something,� he said. Cori strained to see his eyes in the gloom.
�What?� she said, her voice sounding small and shy. She sensed him hesitating, struggling with something.
�It wasn't me,� he said, rolling onto his back to face her better. Cori was puzzled. There was a silence. �Mrs. Novak. I didn't do that,� he said, as if unburdening himself of a leaden weight.
This was not what Cori had expected him to say, and yet it was reassuring to her, because although he could be lying, she knew in her bones that he was not. She felt that he only wanted to be believed, for perhaps the first time in his life. And for some reason, he had chosen her to believe him.
She nodded, not sure he could see this in the dark. �And you're a hell of a pretty woman,� he added. She smiled at the way perfectly blunt way he got his point across. Dimly, she could see his features, and his grin was easy, sensual. Cori knew if there was ever a chance to consummate this strange mutual attraction, this was it. And yet, terribly, loyalty held her back. Loyalty to Ray, for whom her passion had long faded. But if Holman took her physically, enfolded her in his strong embrace, she knew she would yield to him. If only he would seduce her, take her�

�Ray ever tell you that?� he asked her, voice low.
She shook her head before she thought, then covered with a lie �Sometimes,� she said, her voice nearly a whisper.
He closed his eyes, satisfied. �Good.�
Cori turned and made her way towards the hallway. �Good night, Frank,� she said softly.
His idiosyncratic snicker broke the silence. ��night. Bring me a couple aspirin in the morning, okay?� Cori smiled and retired to her bedroom.

The last day dawned and Cori arose, making breakfast for the men a priority. She had been terribly lax over the three days in caring for their appetites, and she was determined to make up for it. While Holman still slept on the couch, she set about cooking eggs, bacon, sausage and pancakes. Pauli came in, looking beat.
�Hey, Pauli. I gotcha a place set right over there,� Cori pointed with a greasy spatula to the kitchen table.
�Thanks, doll. I'm starvin',� he said, yawning. �Frank's still sleepin'?�
Cori shrugged. �Was last I looked,� she said casually, as if he were of little consequence.
Pauli left to go awaken Frank, and within minutes they had presented themselves at her kitchen table. Cori peered at Frank quickly as she set his plates before him. His blondish hair was sleep-mussed, and he had a slight growth of darker stubble across his jaw, but she did not get a close look at his eyes. He seemed lethargic, but then he always did, and she could not discern if he suffered any lingering effects from his binge.

Through breakfast, Pauli dominated the conversation. The rain still fell, the gloomy skies giving the room shadows it did not normally have in the morning. After they had finished eating, Cori cleaned the dishes at the sink. Pauli and Holman sat and smoked, joking about whether Frank had cheated Cori at cards.

�Didn't Frank tell ya he cheats?� Pauli said loudly to her, smiling broadly in his ugly way.

Cori laughed at the sink, looking back at Frank, who smiled in an aw-shucks sort of manner. �I knew it,� Cori said, sending Pauli into fresh peals of laughter.
"Wait'll I tell Ray. Frank cheated his wife at poker!" he cackled.

Pauli yawned noisily and repeatedly. �When's Ray suppose to get here? I wanna go home an� sleep in my own bed.�

�Looks like I ain't gonna for a while,� said Holman sullenly, his voice deeper than ever.

�Oh yeah, I forgot you's gotta leave town,� said Pauli. �Make sure you tell Ray about Torello, he might give you some cash for the road.� Holman nodded, squinting his eyes like a gunslinger as he took a long, deep drag on his smoke.
Cori, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, hesitated, than plunged ahead. �Is there anything you need, Frank? Something I could give you before you go?�
Holman, plainly caught off guard by her offer, sat for a moment in thought. Pauli gave Cori a speculative look and she regretted her generosity. "Uhhh, nothin', I guess. I just gotta go get my car," Holman finally replied.
Cori was nervous of Pauli's interest, but she forged ahead, wanting to make some sort of gesture for Holman. �You sure? Some food, somethin'?�

Holman refused, more adamant this time after glancing at Pauli. �Nah, Ray'll take care of that, he'll probably give me some pocket change.�

Cori stepped out onto the carport to deposit the trash in its can, and heard the door reopen after her. Hoping it was Frank, she turned. It was Pauli. She did not like the expression on his homely face. It was suspicious, investigative. Fearful, she started to walk past him to go back into the house, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. �Hey, hold on. I gotta ask you somethin�.�

Cori turned to face him, and glanced back to ensure Holman had not also come out onto the carport. Pauli saw her quick look, and looked back over his own shoulder, apparently for the same reason. He fixed her with his gaze and lowered his voice. �Frank put the make on you?�
�What?� she spluttered, stunned by his bluntness. Even as she did so, she realized that her reaction would likely be taken as outrage and disbelief rather than the nervousness that it actually was.
�Now, I don't mean nothin' by that,� said Pauli, extending a placating hand. �I just wanted to make sure he didn't bother you none.�
Cori allowed a smile to flood her features, wanting to laugh aloud at the notion of Pauli protecting her from the advances of a man she was now fiercely attracted to. Pauli was not very bright, but he was street-smart, and his dumb intuition had quickly zeroed in on the few intense looks that had passed between Holman and herself at breakfast. Pauli was unwittingly right on, and she had to make sure she convinced him otherwise.

�Pauli, please��, she said, still laughing, as if the idea was so ludicrous it was hardly worth their time.
�Okay, I know. I didn't mean nothin'. I know you're a good wife to Ray. I just know Frank, is all. If he wasn't right with you, I'd take care of it,� he finished, nodding earnestly to her.

�Okay. No, no, everything's fine, Pauli,� she said, still smiling and turning to go back in the house. She shut the door. Had it been terribly obvious? Even to the dim-witted eye of Pauli Taglia? She drew a deep breath. Ray would be home within hours. If Pauli could see it, would Ray?

The rain drummed the roof monotonously as they all waited for Ray. Cori was agitated, knowing any minute he would come in the door, and Frank would leave. She could not believe how badly she did not want for this to happen. She felt she had just come upon something significant in her life that she would now lose, in all likelihood forever.

Pauli fell asleep on the couch, the endless rain sending him into a deep, open-mouthed slumber. Holman, having lost his conversational partner, ambled into the kitchen. �Hey, when d'you think Ray's gonna be here?� he asked. He looked impatient to Cori's eye. She shrugged, trying not to take personally his eagerness to be off.
Holman was restless. He was chewing gum again and he worked it vigorously in his agitation. He sighed without opening his mouth, his gaze resting somewhere on the floor. Cori thought that aside from his slept-in clothes and ungroomed hair, he looked very well. His color was high and the whites of his eyes stood out in healthy contrast. For someone who had imbibed rather heavily only twelve hours previous, he looked extremely vital and alert. Soon he would be leaving the state, and Ray's service, leaving her for good, and she felt a physical pang at the thought.
Not wanting to pry and not knowing if it was even acceptable to ask, she said, �So...how far do you think you'll have to go? To get away from Torello, I mean.�
Holman looked at her, plainly surprised by her interest. �Uhh, I dunno. Outta the state, anyway. I shoulda just stayed in Cleveland,� he mused.
Cori thought quickly. Ray and Pauli had gone to Cleveland just last week. Ray had been in a rage about something before he'd left. When he'd returned, he had been all smiles, fairly puffed up. Something big had happened there, and now she knew Holman had had a part in it. �Where do you think you'll go?� she pressed, desperately wanting details. She couldn't have explained why, but she felt an intense need to know where he might be going.

Holman shrugged, evasive. �Wherever I end up,� he said laconically, and smiled.

Ray was home. He came in smiling, his black hair glistening with raindrops, and embraced Holman in a brotherly way, to Cori's unbelieving eyes. �You takin' good care of Cori?� Ray asked. They exchanged more pleasantries, then Holman dashed out into the rain, sickening Cori with a sense of loss until she realized he was only fetching Ray�s luggage from the car for him.
Ray awakened Pauli on the couch and greeted him; Pauli was as gleeful as a dog at his master's return. Then Ray turned to her. Always last, she thought. She let herself be pulled into his arms briefly and he kissed the top of her head. Holman reentered, carrying Ray's luggage, and set it down. Strangely, Cori felt wrong to have Holman see her in Ray's arms, and almost pushed away from him. It was the most disconcerting emotion she had ever felt - that somehow, to be affectionate to her own husband felt like a betrayal. If it had affected Holman, however, he gave no sign.

Finally, Ray released her and the four of them stood chatting about the weekend, about Las Vegas, the rain. Then Pauli brought up the recent incident with Torello. �Boss, Frank's got a little trouble with the heat.�
Ray�s smile faded and he looked at Holman, who stood nearest the front door like a racehorse in the gate, ready to be off in a flash. �Oh, yeah?� Ray said, sounding nonchalant.
Pauli continued, �Yeah, last night I got picked up by Torello�� Ray already had placed a hand in the small of Cori's back and was giving her a gentle push, the all-too-familiar and infuriating signal for her to leave the room. But instead of heading to the back of the house where Ray was steering her, Cori twisted and went around him, past Holman, and out the front door, exasperated.

On the carport, she crossed her arms, hating the way Ray always treated her in such situations. Holman�s not like that, she thought. He tells me things, he doesn't act like this stuff is top secret and confidential like Ray does. In the back of her mind, she knew that this was because Ray was more professional, the reason he was rising so quickly in the organization, and the reason Holman would never rise higher than he was now. But she didn't care. Holman shared, even if only a little, and he had a sincerity to him that Ray lacked.
She watched the endless rain cascade down, furious that she was being deprived of a last few minutes in Holman's presence because of Ray. She heard the front door open and close, and turned to see Holman come down the steps, alone. He was stuffing something into his pocket, and Cori glimpsed the green of money. He shuffled over to her. Cori forced a smile up at him, feeling sick that he was leaving any minute.
�Hey,� he said, somehow managing to infuse so much smoothness and depth into just one word. He leaned close, and looking past her to the street, said in a low voice, �Why don't you come with me.� Not a question, from his tone, but an offer. He still did not look at her but past her, out at the driving rain.
She assumed he must be joking in his unique, deadpan manner. �Hmph, yeah,� she said, ruefully, �If only I could.�
Finally he looked at her. In his clear blue eyes she saw that he was only partially joking; he was testing her as well. �Why not?� he said, and the power of his gaze made her falter. Her pulse quickened.
�I just can't,� she said, indicating behind them the house, Ray, her life.
Holman looked down a moment in thought, his jaw working his gum. �I could pick you up somewhere,� he said, meeting her eyes again, his own twinkling but challenging her.
She drew a deep breath and shook her head. �You're crazy," she said, with a helpless smile.
Suddenly, he had hold of her arm and pulled her close. Quickly bending, he touched his lips to the corner of her jaw in a stolen kiss. �You ain't seen crazy,� he said into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. Then he let go and moved away.
Before Cori could even react to this, the front door opened and Ray and Pauli emerged. Her heart jumped into her throat at how close they had come to being seen.
�Ready, Frank?� said Pauli, jingling his keys.

�Yeah,� said Holman, and sauntered out into the rain with him.
�Take care, Frank,� Ray called to him. Cori's heart sank. It sounded as though Holman was leaving for good, it seemed Ray did not even expect to see him again. Pauli's car started and backed down the driveway. The wipers came on, flicked the windshield clear, and she had one final view of Holman through the glass as he raised a hand - to Ray or herself she did not know. The car backed into the street, Pauli tapped the horn twice in a farewell, and slowly drove away, the big car leaving a wake in the flooded street.

Cori watched Pauli's car until it turned the corner and was lost from sight, unconsciously raising a fingertip to the place Holman had dared to touch her, the spot he had kissed her at the junction of her neck and jaw. Ray looked down at her, wondering at her pensive mood. �What's the matter?� he asked. �Hope those two idiots didn't bore you to death,� he joked. Cori went into the house silently, with Ray following. �Cori, what is it? I told you I was sorry I had to stay out there so long.� He was already becoming annoyed; she could hear it in his tone of voice. But it was impossible to enlighten him as to the true source of her mood. This made her suddenly, irrationally angry at him. �Why did you have to leave at all?� she exploded at him, feeling such frustration she could hardly contain it. If he had never gone away on the trip, she would never have met Frank Holman and become so terribly, uselessly attracted to him. She would not now be feeling torn in two.

Ray went into the kitchen and served himself a scotch, ignoring her, then reached for the radio and turned it on. Hearing her rock and roll station and not the jazz he expected, he swore and viciously turned the channel back to his own. Cori remembered how Holman had asked what kind of music she liked; and how he had looked when he had asked, with his blond forelock hanging, and his cigarette poking from the corner of his mouth. Ray gave her a cold look, as if the radio was off limits to her even when he was out of town. Cori could bear the irony and frustration no longer and fled to the bathroom, where she broke into spoiled, angry tears. She hated Ray for coming back. Hated him for ever leaving and creating the situation that enabled her to meet and become so enchanted with Holman. She hated herself for the many opportunities she'd let pass over the three days, chances to get closer with Holman that she now bitterly regretted passing. She even hated Frank for his flirtations, for so effortlessly and powerfully attracting her to him.

The following days were not good in the Luca home. Cori sulked and moped about the house. Ray, long used to her moods, paid no attention. She became a most dedicated eavesdropper. Whenever she heard Ray on the telephone, she crept near as she dared to listen, starved for any hints about the whereabouts of Holman. Ray never mentioned his name.
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Vegas Hearts