Robbie marched Jimmy towards the hotel's main entrance while Eddie and Henry led Rebecca out through a side door. All the way through the lobby Jimmy kept thinking, There's no cop car parked outside. How is anyone not going to think this is a sham? And yet no one gave them a second glance as they went through the sliding glass doors. Once they'd reached the side street beyond the gaze of Golden Dunes security cameras, Robbie unlocked Jimmy's hand cuffs. Jimmy shook the stiffness out of his arms and said, "Now what."
They ambled across the lane to the side entrance to the parking garage. "We lay low," Robbie said. "Eddie's driving out to the warehouse, Frank is picking Becks up and tomorrow I'm going to help her clean out that account before Yushky notices his paperwork is missing. Might get Steve in on it too if he's willing and can make himself useful." He took a fifty out of his wallet and held it out to Jimmy. "Grab a bite at that diner Frank always goes to and someone'll give you a lift home when the game is out. I'm not sure who, yet, so hold tight there."
"I guess," Jimmy said, a sigh shuddering out of his throat. He was crashing now, from one of the biggest highs of his life. Back to reality. Back to life working as a dishwasher and living in some one-time auto body shop, breathing in Lord knows what toxic chemicals each night. They'd failed, he knew it. That sheet of paper Rebecca had taped to her thigh was just a bunch of ones and zeros. The actual cash, God knows where. None of it would be seeing the inside of his pocket any time soon. What a waste of a night.
"Take care buddy," Robbie said, clasping his shoulder. "You'll be okay?"
"I'll be fine," Jimmy said, turning and not even watching him head to the car. On his way out he'd spotted no sign of Jeannie and for all he knew, she was sitting in some hotel room waiting for Steve. What now. At least he was safely outside of the casino and the night was over. He was still free, still alive. The next thought to enter his brain was, so fucking what.
"Hey," a voice shouted from the door leading into a parking garage stairwell. By the mountainous man's stance, that shout was directed at Jimmy. Robbie was long gone, too far to hear Jimmy no matter how loud he called after him for help.
He slowed so he wouldn't show fear, not an easy thing to do especially once he noticed the shiny badge on the man's white shirt. He wasn't wearing a jacket, and his face was in shadow, but Jimmy knew a security guard when he saw one. That sidearm attached to his belt looked real enough too. Jimmy kept going, eyes fixed ahead even as a hand shot out from behind a dumpster and fingers the size of jumbo hotdogs grabbed his arm.
Jimmy tore out of his grip. "Hey!" the man yelled and put a radio to his ear. Static blared.
Jimmy burst into a sprint only to crash straight into another security guard who'd just come out from some side door the same colour as the concrete wall. One of those nondescript service doors. Yep, he was fucked. He should have stood his ground that afternoon Frank showed up at his place, the day after his fucking thirtieth birthday of all things. He let himself go limp in the man's arms. He knew they were about to haul him someplace and he was damned if he was going to make that job easy for them.