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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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Heatwave

Cori and Joanne Goldman roamed the Lucky Star, looking for an uncrowded table to settle at with their chips. Joanne prattled on and on about Max's television show but Cori's mind was elsewhere. Her eyes searched constantly for a certain unusual face. She had come tonight under the guise of a night out at the tables with her girlfriend, but her true motive was that she hoped to see Frank Holman. Ray had said he would arrange for Frank to have a room at the Lucky Star until he found more permanent quarters; perhaps Frank would be around and about in the casino.

She craned her neck, trying to see the bar, knowing it was the most likely place he would be, but her short stature prevented her from seeing much over the throngs of flashy casino guests. Not finding him, she turned her attention back to Joanne, who had found a spot at a blackjack table for them. For the next hour, they played. Cori paid minimal attention to her bets, partly because it made no difference if she won or lost, but mostly because she was far more interested in keeping an eye out for Holman. She was not going to miss him if she could help it. Once or twice, Joanne had to elbow her to jolt her focus back to the game, and the dealer began to scowl at her.
�Come on, Joanne, let's go,� she said at last, too impatient to sit at a table any longer. Joanne scooped their chips into her hands as Cori walked away, forgetting them.
�What's the matter, Cori? You left our chips,� Joanne asked.
�Aaa, I just don't feel like playing tonight,� said Cori.

�Okay, let's just walk around for a while,� Joanne agreed, dumping their combined ships into her jeweled mini pocketbook. �I thought you wanted to play tonight. That's what you said when you called,� Joanne chided.

�Yeah, I know. I dunno,� Cori said, unsure how to explain away her agitation.
�We could go upstairs,� suggested Joanne, meaning to Ray's private suite on the top floor. Cori pondered this. There was a chance, a small one, that Frank would be there, but only if Ray was. She had wanted to see Frank alone if at all possible. Beggars can't be choosers. At the very least, she might find out from Ray if Holman in fact had a room here and where it was.

Joanne sang along with the Muzak in the elevator on the way up, dancing with herself, making Cori wonder at her good mood. The burly man whose name Cori did not know let them into Ray's suite. Ray was there, reclining on the leather couch while Pauli mixed a drink at the bar.
�Cori,� Ray greeted her, rising from the couch, smiling. �Hey, gorgeous,� he said to Joanne, taking both her hands in his. Far beneath her hardened shell, Cori felt resentment at the difference in his greetings. She walked away from it, to Pauli at the bar.

�Hey, doll,� said Pauli, stirring his drink with a pudgy hand. Cori nodded at him, forced a half-smile.
Ray sat back down comfortably. �What brings the two of you up here?� he asked, staring at Joanne.
�We got bored,� said Cori. She felt an uncontrollable urge to be snotty to him. She was impatient that her quest of the evening was not panning out, and Ray's attention to Joanne compounded her frustration.
�Why doesn't that surprise me,� said Ray, cynical, smiling wryly. �Cori, only you could be bored in Las Vegas.� Joanne laughed, a tittering giggle that grated on Cori.
�We decided to come see our husbands,� said Joanne sweetly, �But I don't see mine anywhere.� Mock pout. Cori barely restrained an eye roll. Ray chuckled. �Max is out on an errand, he should be back here any minute.�

Pauli picked up a glass. �You want I should make you a drink?� he offered Cori.
�Yeah, why not,� she accepted. He sloppily poured her a Sauvignon Blanc, and she daintily took the glass, wet down one side, from him.
The doors opened and in came Max Goldman, followed by Frank. Cori gripped her glass tighter, afraid it would slip from her nervous grasp and shatter on the floor. The way her heart catapulted into her throat at the mere sight of Holman was alarming. He swaggered in with Max, smiling.
�Hey, Max, there's a lady here lookin' for you,� said Ray, gesturing to Joanne.
�Oh, baby, that ain't no lady,� Max said, coming toward Joanne and looking her up and down lewdly. Joanne simpered and cuddled into the curl of Max's arm.
Cori had eyes only for Frank as he shuffled toward Pauli and herself at the bar. He raised one eyebrow at her subtly, then turned to Pauli. �Hey, Pauli, you tryin' to get Mrs. Luca drunk?� The room erupted in laughter, to Cori's mild discomfort, but she too laughed.
�You think it'll work?� parried Pauli loudly, eliciting more laughter. Holman peered behind the bar and helped himself to a bottle of champagne. �Hey, what's the occasion, Frank?� said Pauli, looking pointedly at the Dom Perignon Frank had filched.

�Occasion?� Frank mumbled into his chest as he tried to pop the cork. �Oh, yeah,� he remembered, and digging in his pocket, came up with a pair of shiny keys.
�Whatdja get?� asked Pauli.
�T-Bird,� said Holman, still struggling with the bottle. �Shit,� he said, giving up and exchanging the Dom Perignon for an already open bottle of wine.

�Yeah, he test drove six of them,� interjected Max. �Finally I told him, hey, I got shit I wanna do tonight. Just pick a nice color and be done with it already.� Frank took a swig straight from the bottle and laughed.
Ray addressed Frank seriously for a moment. �You ditch that hot one?�
Holman nodded, "It's gone." Cori looked at his face, seeing how the bruises from Ray's punishment the other night had now darkened. She had a flashback to herself soothing the wounds, and his impulsive kiss. What would Ray do if he knew? She admired Holman's cool. No one would ever suspect there was an attraction between them in the slightest.

Max, coming over to the bar to serve himself a drink, slapped Frank on the shoulder. �Ray, you gotta do somethin' about this freeloadin' scumbag here. Now that he's got some nice wheels, teach him how to dress, huh?� Cori realized that Frank was the only man present not adorned in a fine suit of clothes; somehow she had failed to notice before. Ray laughed, and Frank was not offended in the least, grinning as he chugged the white wine. Cori was beginning to form the impression that it was almost as if Frank was being reinitiated into the group by being the target of repetitive, friendly insults. He not only took it in stride, he obviously enjoyed it. Cori thought of how differently Ray would react in the same situation. Even as a joke, if one insulted Ray too many times, they were likely to find themselves shoved up against a wall, or much worse. But Frank Holman rolled with it.

The six turned the accidental gathering into a small, impromptu party. Once Frank had arrived, Cori had no intention of leaving unless he did. And Frank seemed content to settle in Ray's suite with the others, drinking and laughing. With his quirky replies, he proved to be an amusing addition to their group. Ray told with great enjoyment how he and Pauli had nearly executed Frank, and how, as a very dark joke, they had fired into the air to terrorize him while he had a sack over his head. Frank laughed as hard as any of the others in the telling, not traumatized or resentful in the least.
Cori, sitting on his left, had a wonderful view of the undamaged side of his face and she stared as much as possible without it becoming obvious. Max sight tight with JoAnne, a hand wandering to her long leg many a time. Pauli was loudly jovial, not quite to the point of obnoxiousness but nearly, and Ray held court in his comfortable, regal way.

At one point, they all walked to the huge picture window, where they looked out over the strip, as Ray pointed out the next casino marked for conquest. Cori looked out over the thousands of lights. She had stood here before, had taken in this same view a dozen times already, but this was the first time that it touched her as beautiful. She turned and looked down the line at each of their faces.
Ray, his eyes faraway with his plans and schemes. Pauli, rubbery faced and somehow childlike in his simpleness. Max, keen and sharp, holding Joanne before him like a blond shield. Her eyes traveled to Frank just behind them. His head characteristically dropped and slightly tilted, he possessed an intense, speculative look as he viewed the panorama. Just as she would have looked away, his eyes lifted and caught hers. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners and alight with neon and hidden meaning.

Max was first to leave, taking Joanne with him. At first Joanne had protested, telling Max that she had driven Cori there. Cori spoke up quickly, assuring them both that she would have no problem getting home. After they left, she knew that either Ray, Pauli or Frank would have to be the one to drive her home, since Ray never invited her to stay overnight in the suite with him. She prayed that Ray was too comfortably ensconced in his suite to want to drive her himself.
Now that their group had dwindled to four, they spaced themselves more freely on the leather couch. Ray seemed more subdued now that Max had gone, but Frank and Pauli continued to banter with one another. Ray eyed Cori, as if seeing her for the first time in hours, and she knew he was wondering at her prolonged visit.
His quiet had the effect of shifting the mood in the room from one of celebration to a more reflective, sober one. Pauli picked up on it first and sat chomping handfuls of expensive Macadamias, watching Ray's face for signals. Frank was less aware, and sat slumped in the black leather of the couch, smoking in his overhand manner.

Having the distinct sensation that she had overstayed her welcome, Cori stood. �Well, I guess I've had enough fun for one night.� She smoothed her party dress and waited. Ray looked at her for several moments, thinking.
Suddenly he seemed to come to a decision and leaned forward. �Frank,� he said briskly, �Do me a favor, take Cori home for me.� Cori wanted to squeal her triumph. �You can start earning that company car of yours,� said Ray, rising to walk them out and grinning. Frank took two last hurried drags on his cigarette, then put it out and followed them.
� 'night, Cori. See yous tomorrow, Frank,� called Pauli from the couch.
Ray gave Cori a peck on the cheek. �Get her home safe, Frank,� he said.
Holman nodded. �Sure thing, Ray,� he said, snatching his leather jacket up off a chair and shrugging into it.

Holman ambled along beside Cori as they made their way to the elevator, and she hoped not to betray her heated excitement. She would be alone with him in his car. As the elevator doors opened, Frank stepped aside and made a sweeping gesture for her to enter first. �Madam,� he said, playing the role of escort to the hilt.

They reached ground level and stepped out into the cacophonous glitz of the casino. Halfway through the crowd, Holman nearly collided with Max Goldman who was evidently on his way back upstairs, minus Joanne.
Max stepped back and observed the unlikely pair, looking them both up and down from head to toe in mock appraisal. �Cori, where you goin' with this bum?� he asked, his voice sardonic but his eyes friendly.
�Frank's taking me home,� Cori said pertly, delicately patting the back of her hairdo as if she were a game show bimbo.
�Is that right?� Max said in playful amazement. �I can give you a lift myself, Cori, if you want; if you don't want your reputation trashed by bein' seen with this loser here.� He swatted Frank jokingly on the shoulder.
Cori laughed. �Forget about it, Max,� she said, waving a dismissing hand.
�Goin' slummin', huh?� Max smiled, then turned to continue on his way.

Cori and Frank weaved through the busy throng. The Lucky Star was seething with customers tonight, Cori had never yet seen it so packed. Once or twice she felt Holman's hand gently touch her back as he guided her through the mob. Outside, the chilly air was invigorating, as stimulating as the endless neon and flash that lent an unreal glow to the street.
�Wait here, I'll go get my car,� said Frank.
�I can walk,� she protested, coming along with him.
�Uh, okay...It's pretty far,� he informed her, in case she should change her mind. Cori strode along beside him in her high heels, hoping she would not turn an ankle and make a fool of herself. They trudged over gravel, getting farther from the glow of the street, until at last they approached a blue Thunderbird. Frank unlocked the passenger door and held it open for her. Cori slid into the fragrant new leather, and Frank checked to be sure no errant edge of her dress was hanging out before shutting her door.
While he walked around the back of the car to the driver's side, Cori felt more still than she could ever remember. Inside the car, alone, it was so quiet she could hear herself breathe. Her heart pounded softly. The chrome instrument panel twinkled in the dark at her like sterling silver. She pulled in a deep, nervous breath, attempting to calm her racing pulse. She felt exactly as she had on her very first date, only much more intensely magnified. Frank got in, the car settling with his weight, and fumbled to fit the key in the ignition.
�So, this is your new car, huh?� she asked, hoping her voice sounded nonchalant. Frank turned to look at her, and when their eyes met she was assailed by such powerful urges that she involuntarily chewed her lip. In this close, confined space with him, she was more aware than ever of her attraction to him.
�Yeah, this is it, all right,� he said, leaving his hand resting on the key but not yet turning it, as if they would be unable to talk once the engine had started.
Cori studied him hungrily in the dark. His eyes now possessed a grayish tone, their true blue robbed of them by the lack of light, and were still deep and liquid with drink. She wondered if she even ought to be riding with him, knowing how much wine he had consumed in Ray's suite, but she realized with thrilled abandon that she didn't care. Somehow it did not matter, nothing mattered except that they were alone together. Her eyes wandered to his lips, and back to his eyes, and she willed him to kiss her, really kiss her, now that there was opportunity. Instead, he smiled a wicked smile and started the car. The radio came on as the Thunderbird roared to life, filling the interior with the voices of Martha and the Vandellas.

Frank cruised slowly through the parking lot, the gravel crunching beneath the tires. Cori was thankful that her home was on the outskirts of town and not terribly close to the strip, so that she would have more than a few minutes with him.
Turning back onto Las Vegas Boulevard was like going from night to day. The millions of lights shone and sparkled on the hood of Frank's Thunderbird as they only do on new cars. He turned the radio down so that they might talk, and Cori was encouraged. She struggled with the countless questions in her mind she had for him, unable to decide which first to ask.

The most frivolous sprang from her lips before she knew it. �So, you sing, huh?� she gave him a teasing look. �Or was Ray making that up?�

Holman grinned. �No, he didn't make that up.�

�I just can't see it,� Cori confessed.
Holman laughed, and jerked the wheel slightly as the car drifted over the center line. �Yeah, well, you'll have to come watch me sometime,� he said. They stopped in traffic and Frank got the chance to light a smoke.

�You don't mind taking me home...?� Cori left the sentence in the air.

�No!� Frank exclaimed. �I was sorta hopin' Ray'd ask me to!� Cori's head swam with excited hope. They looked at one another and she blushed uncontrollably. He looked away and gave a short, embarrassed chuckle, the first sign of self-consciousness Cori had ever seen him exhibit. The traffic was on the move again.

Soon they had left the dazzle and shimmer of the strip behind and moved at a faster pace, toward the outskirts of the city. �Does Ray do this a lot?� Frank asked. �I mean, him stayin' at the Lucky Star, you stayin' at home... you know.�
Cori nodded slowly, �Yeah, he probably stays up there half the time.�
Frank shook his head and grunted. �Must be crazy. I'd be at home every night if I was him,� he said, looking at her.
Cori was on the verge of voicing her suspicions that Ray had other women who occupied his attentions on those nights when he stayed at the Lucky Star, but held back. She did not want to play the victim; neither did she want to hint that there were more desirable women than she. �Yeah, well, Ray does what he wants,� she said, her voice more suffering than she had intended, and leaden with disgust.
�Hey, I think you should do what you want,� said Frank, turning onto the street that would carry them to her home. Cori looked at him intently to read his meaning, but he was focused on keeping the car centered in the lane of the very dark road, his brow furrowed in concentration.

As Frank pulled into the long, semicircular drive of her home, Cori extended her hospitality. �You can come in if you want, Frank.�

They stepped into the foyer of the house, into the darkened living area and the absolute silence of an unoccupied, large space. Cori turned on the light of the aquarium, which illuminated the room with a pleasant violet glow. Frank had his hands jammed in the pockets of his jacket, and his wispy, unruly forelock had fallen forward.
�Guess you can't stay around, huh?� Cori asked, hopeful but resigned.
�No, I think Ray wanted me to come back,� he said slowly, the regret plain in his voice. Cori sighed, meeting his eyes. Something flickered in their compelling depth, and he reached out and took her arm. Slowly he pulled her close and bent to her, his face close to hers. His hand stroked her cheek once, then he took her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger and raised her face.
Their eyes locked; his deeply set blue asking a timeless question, her dark answering. His hand moved to the back of her head, sliding sensuously through her hair, then at last he met her lips with his own. At the first touch, Cori parted her lips for him and she heard him breathe in deeply. She felt an indescribable ecstasy of spirit that his desire matched hers, and they both sighed in the sweet, passionate release. She laced both arms about his neck as they tasted one another slowly, gently. The kiss lingered on, neither willing to break apart or progress any further, only rejoicing in what they felt together at that moment. Cori felt a heady, dizzying feeling as if she had jumped from a cliff. The sensuousness of his kiss set her body afire, igniting deep passions she had thought long dormant. His lips were soft, gentle, tortuously exquisite, and he kissed her slowly, as though they had all night, yet his deeply drawn breaths hinted at tightly restrained desire.
Gradually, Cori forced herself to pull away, not because she wanted to, but because she needed to. For the first time, she began to understand how women could ever swoon at a kiss. Reluctant, Frank felt her loosen her grip on him and his lips parted from hers. They opened their eyes to each other again, both panting slightly. �Oh...God�� Cori whispered, wordless. She had her hands on his face now, his hard strong jaw fitting into her palms. She could not draw a breath very far; capable only of shallow, quick breaths.
Frank was similarly affected. He made a low noise and pulled away, although it clearly was a titanic effort. Cori, limbs quivering, put a hand on the shelf behind her to steady herself. �Don't leave,� she pleaded, shocked at the heavy sexual overtones in her own voice.
He caressed her face again, his hand traveling down to her neck. �I better,� he said, �If we don't quit, I wouldn't stop, then I'd be here all night,� he warned. The torment of this nearly brought her to her knees, but she nodded. They both drew deep breaths as if to clear away the unbearable tension, and that made them smile at one another.

Cori walked to the door, her emotions chaotic. She could still taste him, the white wine lingering. Opening the front door for him, she let in a draft of cold desert air. �Thanks for the ride,� she said, smiling seductively.
�Yeah,� he grinned back, going out into the cold, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket again. Turning back, he said, �See you around, right?�

Several days passed, and Ray came home and stayed for two nights. Before Holman's arrival in town, she would have been pleased and grateful for Ray's leftovers. Now, his presence stifled her. He wanted a break from the Lucky Star for a couple of days, he said. Which meant that Cori was expected to stay home with him. Secretly furious that she could not roam the casino in hopes of seeing Frank, she sat silent and watched TV, ignoring Ray.
Pauli came by several times, and each time the doorbell rang, Cori's heart would leap, in hopes that it was Frank. When she saw that it was Pauli's dumpy form in the foyer, her hope would melt into disgust. She knew she should be happier to see Ray, but she could not muster the pleasantness. Her suspicions about other women blackened her mood toward him, and now there was the simple plain truth that he annoyed her because he indirectly prevented her from seeing Frank. Ray was away so much that now the house had begun to feel to her as if it were hers alone, and the longer he now stayed, the more he felt like an intruder to her, an unwelcome guest who had stayed overlong. After two days, Ray had had his fill and left, to her guilty relief. Now that he was relatively out of the way, she could resume her quest of trying to create another chance encounter with Frank Holman.

Cori stood in her bedroom, checking her reflection again. Another foray to the Lucky Star was the plan of the night; Joanne had said she would meet her there later on. The phone rang and Cori swore, knowing it was Joanne canceling with one of her mystery ailments that popped up when she had really only changed her mind, or someone else had invited her to do something more fun. Angry in advance, Cori picked the phone up and snapped, �Hello?�
Frank�s laugh came through the phone. �Hey, baby,� he said, a smile in his unmistakably deep voice. Cori sat down on the bed, her happy surprise weakening her. �Miss me?� Frank asked.
Cori's playful side emerged, and she put on a stern tone. �Who the hell is this?� she demanded.
He was not fooled, she heard him laugh softly. �Hey. You comin' out tonight?� In the background, she could hear cars; he was calling from a pay phone.
�Yeah, I was just about to leave,� she said, standing up again in nervous excitement. �Where are you?� she asked, curious.
�Uhhh�� his voice faded, as if he were looking around. �Next to the Riviera.� On the phone, his voice seemed even deeper.
Cori twisted the phone cord in her fingers. �I was gonna go out to the Lucky Star again, Joanne's supposed to meet me,� she said. �What are you up to?�

�Ray sent me out to do somethin',� he said. Cori felt a twinge of disappointment. He was working tonight, then.
�You still staying at the Lucky Star?� she asked, hopeful.
�Yeah, I ain't found a place yet,� he said.

So he would be coming back to the Lucky Star after Ray's errand. �Maybe I'll see you there later!� Cori said, her voice bright with hope.
�Yeah, hang around there for a while,� he said, and she could hear his smile.

Cori loitered in the casino, her new shoes pinching her toes. For hours she had lingered, playing at nearly every table and at last even pulling down the arms of the slot machines she usually disdained. Joanne had been a no-show, to Cori's annoyance. Two weeks ago, she would have gone home once she realized her friend was not coming, but not tonight. Sometime tonight, Frank would come through the doors at the front of the casino, and she intended to be here. And so she stayed.
Never very patient, Cori fought against her rising agitation and anxiety. It was after one o�clock in the morning now. If Ray came downstairs and saw her, he would think it mighty odd that she was here alone at this hour. It did not help that Cori disliked being alone and unescorted in the casino to begin with. Although the regular clientele and employees by now recognized her as Ray Luca's wife and either treated her with respect or left her alone, there were plenty of patrons who had no idea of her name and status and simply saw her as a woman alone. She had already had to rebuff the advances of two lounge lizards.

Now she stood watching the roulette wheel spin on her last bet. She had been a terrible loser tonight and now she had put down the last of her chips. The wheel spun, the colors of black and red a blur to her unfocused eyes, the ball going round and round counter to the wheel. The ball slowed, about to drop.
�Hey, little bitty pretty one,� said a distinctively deep voice, close behind.
Cori smiled even before she turned to face him. Firstly she noticed that his Ray-inflicted bruises were almost gone, only the faintest hint of one remaining on his cheekbone.
�Hey, Frank! Ray got you workin' hard?� she greeted him. Frank's eyes shifted to the wheel, where the ball had dropped.
�Thirty-six red!� the man called.
Cori threw up her hands and stepped away from the table to let another couple in. �Don't quit on account of me,� Frank said.
�No, I just lost the last of my chips. It's all right,� she said, waving a careless hand at her loss and leading him away from the gaming tables.

�Buy you a drink,� Frank offered.

They made their way to the colorful, neon-lit bar. Cori wondered what Ray would think if he happened to come down and saw her having a drink with Frank in public. She decided she didn't care. She could only imagine what she might find if she went upstairs to his private suite right this minute.

Cori perched herself on a stool. Frank stood next to her, glancing down at her legs. She was pleased, having worn her shortest skirt deliberately. Even though it had drawn the unwelcome attention of the lounge lizards earlier, Frank's appreciation now made it more than worthwhile. Frank handed her a drink. �Where's your girlfriend? I thought you were coming with Max's wife.�
Cori sipped her drink and glowered across the casino. �She didn't show up, that twit.� The bartender, having heard, raised his eyebrows at this slander on Max Goldman's better half. Cori scowled at him. �What?� she snapped. �Mind your own business.� Frank chortled into his glass. The bartender moved away prudently.
Frank watched him until he was out of earshot, then sidled closer to her. �Need a ride home tonight?� Cori looked into ravenous eyes.
�No, I drove tonight,� she said, now regretting it.
�Shit,� Frank said. They smiled at each other discreetly, careful not to appear anything more than friendly with one another. Cori kept her eye on the bartender, who was down at the opposite end of the bar, wiping down the surface with a rag wearily.
�There's so many things I want to ask you!� she said, turning back to Frank.
He leaned an elbow on the bar. �Oh yeah? Like what?�

�Oh, lots of stuff. To start with, what was the big idea rollin' over on Ray?� She was playing, but the question threw him off balance.

Startled, his eyes took on a furtive look and darted around the casino. He took a drink. �Uhh, yeah. That. I don't know.� He paused and frowned down at the bar. �Seemed like a good idea at the time,� he finished guiltily. Cori was amused by his disaffection.

They talked for a time, Cori taking the role of journalist, asking question after question, with Frank answering in his patented succinct way. She learned that he had moved around quite often after leaving her in Chicago. To Toledo, Ohio, then to relatives in Iowa, then to Gary, in a circuitous route that seemed to be bringing him back to Chicago. Then he had been apprehended by Torello finally in Gary. As Cori had suspected, Torello had beaten him in the arrest, although he had been unarmed at the time. She pouted her lips and made sympathetic sounds as he told her of his injuries, wanting to stroke his healing face.

Cori recrossed her legs and took a sip of her drink, looking at Frank over the rim of her glass. She asked what was, to her, the most important question. �Frank...why did you come out here to Las Vegas?�

He leaned in as close as he dared at the bar. �I told you. I came to see you.� His tone was teasing, but there was a heat in his eyes that begged her to believe him. Unsure, she gave him a slightly raised eyebrow and a sweet look, one that said she wasn't buying it completely but appreciated the sentiment.
Frank elaborated, trying to backpedal a bit. �I always wanted to come to Vegas. Everyone does, right? I dunno. I heard everyone was out here, doing things. Making some real money. I just grabbed a car and started driving,� he said, his eyes twinkling.

�I'll bet you did,� Cori said, shaking her head at his impulsiveness.
�Yeah. I drove for almost a week to get here and it was all I thought about. You know, when I finally got here and saw that sign I just felt like this would be the place,� he said, his eyes faraway, remembering. �Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas,� he recited, lifting his glass and quoting the famous city limits sign he was referring to.
�I never saw that,� Cori admitted. �I flew in to the airport,�

�Really? I oughta drive you out there and let you see it,� Frank suggested. He considered for a moment. �Uhh, then again, it's only a big deal if you haven't already seen the strip and all that.� The bartender had come close to make a martini for an old man, and Cori waited until he had finished and drifted away again.
�I'd like to see it,� she said eagerly. She knew it was only a sign marking the city limits, but it had been of importance to Frank; therefore it was of importance to her. She wanted to see what he had seen on his daring night when he had entered the city, braving death, betting his life. If she did, she would be that much closer to feeling what he had felt. To knowing him. And, having had a few drinks, it sounded like fun.

�Let's go,� she said, putting her glass down on the bar. Frank looked doubtful, but Cori had already anticipated his reluctance. Checking for the last time to make sure the nosy bartender was a safe distance away, she leaned close to Frank. �Meet you in the parking lot in fifteen minutes.�
He nodded, tossed back what remained of his drink and bid her goodnight so that this time he was heard by those nearby, and left. Cori watched him go, then made a trip to the ladies' room. She took her time there, primping her hair and makeup until she was sure fifteen minutes had passed.

Frank was leaning on the trunk of his Thunderbird, smoking, as she approached. �'bout time,� he teased. �You sure you wanna?�
Cori smiled reassuringly, �Yeah, let's go. I wanna see it.�

As Frank eased the big car through the lot and onto the strip, Cori had a momentary, frightening vision of a valet telling Ray that he had just seen his wife departing with another man, leaving her own pink Chevy behind in the lot. She vividly imagined the thundercloud Ray's face would become, even down to the ominous, subtle eye twitch he got just before his worst moments; heard him tell Pauli to go stand watch in the Lucky Star parking lot and wait for their return. She shoved the unpleasant imaginings from her mind.
Frank turned on the radio, catching Loco Motion. Once free of the traffic, he gunned the engine, pushing the heavy vehicle to a rapid acceleration. Cori knew his rush was doubly motivated. He wanted to get her back to the casino quickly, but also he enjoyed driving fast; it was another facet of his reckless, careless personality.

The Thunderbird flew smoothly down the highway in the dark, the breaks in the pavement beneath the tires making the rapid, rhythmic sound that as a child she had always thought sounded like the galloping hooves of a horse. If it had been Ray driving so fast, Cori would have been fearfully angry, would have railed at him. But with Frank Holman, whom she knew she should have been even more fearful with, she somehow felt an exhilaration, a sense of letting go not unlike her sensation of jumping off a cliff she had felt when he had kissed her. He was her thrill ride.
She rolled down her window all the way, copying Frank, who had his left arm hanging out his window, and let the wind whip her hairdo out of shape. �There you go,� laughed Frank approvingly.
They rode on through the night as though pursued, and Cori felt cleansed by it. The cold desert wind that buffeted her through the window was like a splash of icy water in the face, a shock that brought every sense sharply aware and eager, blasting away years of boredom, routine, of simply not being alive. She could have told Frank to keep going - to never stop and never look back. She understood for the first time how people met and ran off together in Las Vegas. It happened in moments like this - fleeting feelings of pure liberation, that your life was beginning all over from this point.

�There it is,� said Frank. He pointed to a sign on the opposite side of the road, the back of it facing them as they bore down upon the city limits. �Hang on, I'll turn around,� he said. Cori tensed, thinking he was going to attempt to spin them about at top speed. But he slowed, pulled off the road and made a wide sweep across both lanes, ending up on the shoulder of the other side, facing the sign. He put the Thunderbird in park.
�Well, there it is,� he gestured, laughing in a slightly sheepish way. �Guess it's not really a big deal.�
WELCOME TO FABULOUS LAS VEGAS said the sign, flashing brightly. As city limit signs went, it was certainly ostentatious, but Frank had been correct earlier at the bar when he had said it paled in comparison to the Strip. It was merely a preview of what awaited ahead if one continued down this dark desert road to the lights in the distance. Still, Cori was not let down. Frank had brought her to see it because it had meant something to him. Her eyes softened as she imagined the night he had first driven past it, the night he had gone all in, risked everything. It was beautiful in its gaudiness.
Frank lit a smoke. �When I got here, it was the middle of the night,� he said. �There weren't any other cars on the road at all....just this sign all lit up out of nowhere. Then I could see the lights way up there,� he pointed with his cigarette hand, �and I knew how close I was.� Cori wanted to ask what he had been feeling at that moment. As if Frank had read her mind, he said, �I thought, I made it all the way out here and Ray'll probably just kill me.� He chuckled.
Cori looked at him, awed that he would drive a thousand miles to the one place where death surely awaited him. �I still can't figure out why he didn't,� she said softly, her voice full of grateful incomprehension.
�Me neither,� Frank said wonderingly, staring at the sign.

�When you left Chicago,� Cori started, �after you and Pauli had stayed with me, what happened? Where did you go?�
Frank shifted slightly in his seat to face her better. �I went underground. Ray told me in your house that last day that I had to go.� He paused, and Cori waited, listening. �He gave me money, a lot of money, and he said he'd enjoyed working with me, that if we ever ended up in the same place again he'd look me up, give me more work. But for now, that was it, I had to go. Torello was too hot after me. So that means, leave town, leave the state, whatever, and don't come back. Don't call, nothin'. Ray goes, 'Sorry, Frank,' puts a hand on my shoulder and shakes my hand.�
Cori smiled sympathetically. �Just like that, huh? Like getting fired?�

Frank took a deep drag and exhaled it sideways out his window, where it was snatched away by the desert wind. �Yeah. That's how it works. You go somewhere else, start all over again,� Cori turned farther in her seat, spellbound by his openness. He had already told her in five minutes more than Ray had told her in ten years.
�What did you do after that?�
Frank fingered his side mirror, making some miniscule adjustment of it. �I just started drivin'. I had all that money to live on for a while. So I just got moving. Stayed in out-of-the-way motels where you can hear the people in the next room bangin' in their beds, got up the next day and drove some more.� He paused. �Till the money ran out. Then I had to start thinkin' of how to get some more.�
Cori was rapt, still shocked that he was telling her so much, and with no reservations whatsoever. He seemed to want to tell her, as if his life had been a secret he had kept to himself for years and now wanted to share.
He reached under his seat and came up with a bottle of whiskey. He took a swig and offered her the bottle. She tasted it daintily, relieved that it was cold from being in the car. He propped the bottle between his legs and continued without any prompting. �I've had to go underground I don't know how many times. When you're a kid it's easier. Well, it's never really easy,� he corrected himself. �But that last time was the worst.�

Cori was listening intently. �Why?� she asked softly, trying not to press too hard.
Frank's head dropped and he seemed to hesitate for the first time. He gazed at his steering wheel for so long Cori began to think he wasn't going to answer her. �You,� he rolled out the one word so low and deep, and shot her a quick glance. Cori's breath caught in her throat. �Being in your house with you...for three days�� He stopped, his words coming slowly, with more effort now, �Every place I went...I just kept thinking about you...back there in Chicago. The one place I couldn't go anymore,� he said, and turned to her with a rueful smile, laughing lightly at the irony. �And then I lost my car,� he went on, still smiling.
�Your car?� Cori said, confused.
Frank took another generous sip of whiskey. �Yeah, I had to leave it. Back in Toledo. My Studebaker. God, I loved that car. A lot of my shit was in it, too. My Buddy Holly records�� he broke off and laughed again at himself. Cori giggled and reached for the bottle. �Anyway,� he continued, �It just seemed like it was time to stop. Cut the shit, stay clean for once, get some sort of job. I was just sick of it. Sick of running.� He looked at her. �Guess I got sort of spoiled too, working for Ray.�
She raised her eyebrows. �What do you mean?�

�I mean, Ray was really good to work for. The shit we did for him had a purpose, you could tell. It was important, and he had a lot of work for us. I wasn't sitting around in the shop waiting for stuff to do. He always had something for us. And he paid us real good too. So when he cut me loose, I had no boss, no crew, nothin'�� He looked at her for a long time, and Cori could hear the wind whistle past her side mirror. �So I decided to go back to Chicago,� he told her, his eyes glimmering in the light of the dashboard.

Cori contemplated the sign again, and for several minutes she and Holman simply gazed at it, the car idling. She became aware of how utterly isolated they were. There were no cars in sight. To either side of the highway there was only desert, spread out flat, black and empty. Ahead of them on the road, miles beyond the twinkling sign, lay Las Vegas, lights shimmering. Ray was back there, in those shimmering lights, unaware. No one knew where she was.

Frank took a long drag on his cigarette and flicked it out the window, then looked at Cori. �Jeez...your hair,� he said, smiling. She reached up self consciously to smooth it. �No, no, it looks good!� he reassured her. �It looks kinda wild.� His eyes gleamed at this. Cori's hands fell away from her hair, her attention captured by his look. �C'mere,� he said, his intense gaze beckoning.
Cori slid closer, and Frank drew her to him with one strong encircling arm, and searched her mouth with his. His kiss was warm, so gentle and tender from one so brutal and hard. Cori's inhibitions were blowing away, rapidly fading out of her reach, and she sighed, ecstatic in the completely selfish pleasure of the act. Frank inhaled deeply and pulled her tight to himself, as close as the bench seat would allow. His powerful hand slid up her thigh, whispering high up on the nylon stocking and making the muscles beneath quiver. He fell to kissing and tasting her neck, and Cori closed her eyes, head back, listening to his low, steady breaths; the only sound in the world. Cold air blew through the car from the desert, but Cori existed in her own aura of heat, oblivious to the chill. She slid her hands over his shirt, longing to feel the flesh beneath, and thrilled to the hard firmness of his chest.

A car went past them on the road, leaving town. They were suddenly startled by the sound of tires squealing as the driver jammed on the brakes just past where they were parked. They looked back to see a black car turning around just as Frank had, then pulling up behind them, high beams streaming into Frank's Thunderbird and lighting the inside so starkly that Cori had to shut her eyes before the driver switched them off. The car's doors opened and two men emerged.
�Who the hell is this?� said Cori. Even as she said it, Ray flashed through her mind and her blood turned to ice water. She pushed back from Frank hard, so hard that she hit her door, the handle jabbing her rudely in the hip.
Frank was not nearly as panicked, but his hand went to the gear shift and rested there. He watched the men approach in his side mirror, both on his side. Cori looked at the men as they approached. Neither was Ray or Pauli, or anyone else she knew that worked for Ray, and she drew a long, deep breath of relief.
�Ah, shit,� said Frank, and Cori saw his hand tighten on the shifter, as if he were about to throw it in drive and stomp on the gas. She could feel the tension mounting in him from where she sat; it was a nearly palpable electricity. The men stopped at Frank's window, and one leaned down to look past Frank at her. Cori recoiled in disgust.
It was Torello.
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Vegas Hearts