You Always Remember Vegas

Chapter 8

"You know, everyone says that Mike Tyson is such a badass, but I think he's kind of a sweetheart," Stu comments as he drives us on the streets of Las Vegas after looking for clues at Mike's house. 

I sit in the back with Alan, locking eyes with Phil whenever he looks in the rear-view mirror. He smirks every once in a while and I look away quickly like a teenager who has a crush. What the fuck is wrong with me?

"I think he's mean," Alan states his opinion. 

"All right," Phil says. "I think it's officially time we call Tracy."

"Are you sure?" I ask kind of shocked as Stu says, "Hallelujah. Finally, Phil says something that makes sense."

"I mean, we don't have much of a choice," Phil looks back at me. "Maybe she's heard from Doug."

"That's what I have been saying this whole time," Stu says. "Aren't you happy, Ash?"

"I guess," I shrug. I was starting to enjoy our little "scavenger hunt" for Doug. 

"We just need to be completely honest," Phil explains simply as Stu comes to a stop at a red light. "We just need to tell her everything."

 Everything? 

"We don't have to tell her everything," Stu points at Phil. "We can leave out the stuff about me marrying a hooker."

"Just stay focused on Doug," I tell him, Doug is the most important thing right now. 

"What am I going to tell my dad about the car?" Alan asks us. 

"Alan, relax," Phil tries to reassure him. "It's just the inside. Come on, I got a guy in L.A. who's great with interiors-"

"Phil!" I yell as I see the car not stopping, screaming with the rest of them as it hits us. 

We hit a strippers club sign, coming to a screeching stop. 

"Not just the interior," I groan, feeling a slight pain in my right knee from hitting the door. I move my head quickly as the stripper's sign cuts through the roof of the car. 

"Ash, are you okay?" Phil looks back to ask me. 

"Yeah," I nod. 

"I'm okay too, Phil," Alan informs him, having a weird obsession with Phil. "I know that guy," I follow to where Alan is looking outside of his window. The naked Asian man from earlier is now dressed in an expensive suit, standing outside the window. "That's the guy from the trunk."

"Get out of the car. Please," He motions for us to get out. 

The two men who had shot Eddie appear next to the car. The Asian man says something in a foreign language, clapping his hands. They pull Phil, Stu, and Alan out of through the car's window. I shake my head, lifting my hand up in protest so they don't touch me. I simply open the car door with the handle, stepping out and muttering, "Dumbasses." I stand in between Phil and my brother. 

"I want my purse back, assholes," The man tells us. 

"What purse?" I ask confused. 

"That's not a purse, it's a satchel," Alan corrects. 

"It's a purse, okay?" He insists. "And you steal from wrong guy."

"Wait a second, wait a second," Phil repeats, moving to lean against the car. "We stole from you?" 

"Okay, you know what?" Stu begins. "We don't remember anything that happened last night so help us out a little here." 

"Well, apparently you guys met at a craps table late last night," One of the other men, not the "leader," explains, gesturing between us and the Asian man. He points at Alan. "You were on a heater, and he played your hot streak. He ended up winning just under 80 grand."