Hotel Room Lottery

Housekeeping: If you haven't read the first chapter, I invite you to go do that at this time. It is the lead into all of the following chapters, including this one.

This is a reminder that there is a certain amount of time rewind after every chapter past the first. The room numbers represent a change in characters and situations. The chapters after the first are running concurrently with each other. The order isn't necessary, but it helps as I've dropped more details into subsequent chapters.

As always, constructive criticism is welcome, all characters are 18 and over, and this is pure fiction.

*****

Room 441

Jasmine is wandering aimlessly as she mingles with the guests to her older sister's wedding. She is currently trying to figure out the best way to get out of the stupid bridesmaid gown. The hideous thing is clinging to her body in the worst way. She mutters as she remembers that she needs to buy more baby powder to keep it from chaffing. She's so uncomfortable in it that she hasn't bothered to wear anything sexy underneath.

She randomly talks to whatever man she finds that is even just mildly attractive. She gets consistently annoyed whenever she sees a ring or some other woman comes up calling the dude by some stupid pet name.

As Jasmine gets her next drink from the bar, she hears, "Question." She slowly turns to look at her youngest sister. "If you drink enough vodka, like you're on your way to, do you lactate White Russians from those moo milkers?"

Groaning, Jasmine responds to Courtney, "I'm really not in the mood for your jealousy or bullshit right now." She grabs her highball glass and starts to walk off.

She barely hears Courtney say, "What if I could help solve your problem? Instead of you stalking around the ballroom like a cat in heat?"

Glancing over her shoulder, Jasmine sees her lithe gym-rat sister with a Cheshire grin plastered across her face. Slowly blinking before accepting the thought that Courtney might be being honest, "Fine, let's talk over there." Jasmine gestures vaguely to somewhere towards the corner.

Finally finding an empty table with enough room around them to talk privately, Jasmine snarls at Courtney, "What fucking tease of an idea do you have?"

Feigning stupidity, Courtney shrugs with her palms up, "I didn't have any ideas. I'm just acting as a liaison for Maddy and Uly."

Jasmine calms down but doesn't let down her guard. "Oh? And what idea did they have that you thought is so great that you'd tempt the fates?"

Giggling at the vacant threat that Jasmine threw out at her, Courtney replies, "Oh, just a little something to get people laid with no strings attached." Jasmine glares at her sister, sipping at her drink. "But hey, if it's not something that you're interested in, I'll go bother someone else." Courtney stands up to leave.

Without taking the glass away from her lips, Jasmine snaps her figures and points for Courtney to sit back down.

Feeling pleased with her manipulation of her older sister, Courtney sits back down and explains what 'activity' that she's recruiting for.

*****

"So what promises do I get that the sex is going to be good enough for me to risk this?"

Cocking her head slightly to the side, Courtney verifies, "The possibility of a hook up with a relative isn't the problem? The problem is you might get someone shitty in bed?"

"Unlike you, I have checked in with the girls that our brothers have dated. They both have an average 4 and a half star rating. Even most of our cousins here have great reviews. Besides, some of us came here with a few 'oopsie-daisy' pills," Jasmine snarks back at her younger sister. "And here I thought you were supposed to be the slut in the family."

"I'm kinky. Not slutty," Courtney fires back. "So, are you interested or not? It's not called a lottery for no reason."

"You know that I'm a gambling gal. But I want to shore up my bets," Jasmine explains. "If my night doesn't go well, you have to make it up to me for jumping on a grenade."

Popping her neck in anger and frustration, "Fine. I'll make it good with you later if it goes bad."

*****

Jasmine's boredom is becoming legendary after going through all of the bullshit that Madison and Courtney have put her through just for a poke and tickle. She is trying to flirt with anyone even slightly attractive just in case her lottery 'ticket' is a loser. She's getting tired of waiting for the 'festivities' to begin. Jasmine walks up to one of the newcomers into the bar, and greets him.

Her smile falls off of her face immediately as he turns around. He gives her his best prize winning smile as he delivers his pick up line, "You must be a model. I've never seen anyone as fancy as you in here."

She slowly blinks. Her irritation is so strong that her eyes don't close at the same time. "I'm sorry officer. I didn't mean to bother you." She starts to turn away from him.

He gently touches her elbow, "I'm not a cop. But, I would like to talk. You look interesting."

Looking over her shoulder, "Fine. Let's talk." She gestures with her glass to an empty table.

Arriving at the table, she sits down and straightens out her sundress with her empty hand. "So, what do you want to talk about?" The hand with her drink doesn't touch the table. It hovers slightly above it.

He tries to start small talk with her, like where's she from and what brought her to Puerto Rico.

Twisting her mouth to show her disdain, "Cut the shit. You're surrounded by a bunch of bored and horny rednecks who just want to get drunk and fuck their brains out because they're not enjoying themselves at a destination wedding. Get to the point."

Grumbling, the guy admits to being a member of the local vice squad. He explains that they received a tip that a trafficking ring sent a potential contact to this hotel. Jasmine nods politely as he talks while making sure that he understands that he's not getting anywhere fast.

"Fine. I'll do you a favor," she tells him with a minimum of anger in her voice. "All of the people that your pals have been talking to are in the wedding. If you haven't noticed yet, the two morons in the Dolphins' merch aren't with us. They've actually been pissing us off with the dumb shit they keep talking about and asking us. And the scrawny bartender that's been comping you drinks? I can't believe that you can't smell the meth on her breath." The officer looks confused. "Oh, and by the way, I think that I can speak for my side of the wedding, you know, my family, if we get wind of a sex trafficker within our family..." Jasmine looks to her right away from the cop as she sucks air through her teeth. "We'll leave them as a gift for you." Looking at him in the eyes, "And if they come back to us because you fucked up your end of the bargain... I'm not going to expain."

Jasmine pops a couple of knuckles, before saying, "We'll be slightly more polite as we throw you, your unit, and entire department under the bus."

The man pulls a set of handcuffs out of his pockets, "I do believe that is a threat against my safety. You'll need to come with me to the station."

Jasmine quickly offers her hands to be cuffed at the wrists. A huge shit eating smile is emblazoned on her face. "Why are you smiling?"

Gleefully Jasmine responds, "Because, I get to fuck up your night, my dude. And maybe your career."

"Excuse me?"

"One. I never said anything about your physical well-being. That'll become a He Said She Said issue. Which I'm pretty sure that I can win. Two. I stated a fact of what I would do in legal matters. I'm not black mailing you. Because frankly, I'm really hoping that you arrest me. I'm my own boss. I sell shit out of my garage. Mostly because I have a fucking record that I didn't deserve because I refused to snitch on my friends. But I sell soap, body scrubs, perfumes, essential oils, and other shit that I grow in my garden. Oh! And I have a fucking savings account just for this kind of thing." Jasmine waves her wrists at the officer. Getting frustrated, "Com'n, man. Do a girl a favor. I'll get laid for this arrest. I'll get more business after I get out. You are so much fucking free marketing." Jasmine steps towards him. He steps back.

He grabs the back pocket of his shorts. Jasmine can hear a Morse code of static and squawks sent from the radio in the back pocket of the man in front of her. She acts like she's offended and hurt, "So, you're not going to play with me? Am I not pretty enough for you? Was I too submissive? Please, tell me." Jasmine pushes her vantage. "I'm willing to do whatever you want me to do."

Dragging a finger over her lips and hamming up her acting, "I only want to make sure my master is satisfied." Jasmine watches the guy shiver. She can plainly see the goose pimples forming across his arms and neck.

"You're fucking creepy," the officer tells her. "Don't touch me."

"But, master." she whines. "How am I supposed to know when I'm being punished?"

Jasmine fakes that she is trying to reach out to him. His hands flail around as he tries to defend himself from her touch.

She tries her best to suppress the smile and laughter at the ridiculous attempts to keep her at bay. Jasmine stops moving towards him. Once she is sure that she has control of the conversation, she asks, "So, are you done with bothering my family?"

"Well, I'm done with your shenanigans if that is what you mean. I'm going to do what I can to investigate the rumors that I've heard," he states clearly. "Enjoy your evening, miss." And he walks off into the crowd around the bar.

*****

Karl waits patiently to talk to his cousin, Ulysses. He is able to intercept him easily as Ulysses is heading towards the bar.

"Hey, Ulysses. Can I ask you something?" Karl asks in as friendly of a tone as he can. He remembers that he is not exactly well liked by this branch of the extended family.

Ulysses turns to meet his cousin. Karl may not be much taller than him, but he is one of the few people in the family that actually is taller. "What's up, Karl." Ulysses reacts neutrally to Karl's attempt to get his attention. He doesn't mind Karl due to their shared interest in sports, but that is rare in his family. Karl was able to have success in sports, whereas Ulysses will forever be left wondering 'what if?'

"Hey, I know it's rude to eavesdrop, but I overheard something that sounded interesting. I was thinking that I might want to join," Karl explains. Ulysses motions for him to continue.

After waiting for a minute for Karl to say what he heard, Ulysses starts talking instead. "What did you heard, dude?"

Suddenly realizing what Ulysses' hand motions meant, "Oh. I heard that you and someone else are putting together this thingee for unmarried and single people to do. And hopefully everyone will get laid and have fun."

Ulysses nods his head. "It quite a bit more complicated than that, man."

Waving his hand dismissively, "I don't doubt that at all." Grimacing momentarily, "I'm not sure that I would fully understand if you explained it to me. I heard something about a lottery. And we both know that I'm not that good at numbers. Applied physics? Sure. Abstract or theoretical stuff? Hell, no. But I was just thinking that it might be fun to do something while we're all here."

"Do you want me to explain it in detail so that you can understand it?" Ulysses genuinely asks his cousin. Karl is well known and extensively documented for being thick headed, dense minded, and generally considered an idiot. Ulysses watches the walking slab of meat think for a second.

"Naw, I'm sure that you need to keep doing your thing. Just tell me what I need to do to join. 'Cuz I mean, I don't think I've seen anyone here that ain't pretty enough to fuck." Karl starts to laugh. He leans into the fact that he's not as smart as his cousins. No matter how inbred they may be.

"And what if you get a relative?" Ulysses pointedly asks. Ulysses may be the one that knows Karl the best out of the group, but he doesn't know Karl that well.

Caught unawares, Karl's laughter dies in his throat. Staring at Ulysses, he mind tries to process the possible implications of Ulysses' statement. "Um. Well. I did say that everyone here is pretty enough to fuck. But I don't think I would be able to do anything with Maddy or Courtney." Ulysses eyes Karl trying to puzzle out the meaning in Karl's confession. Lowering his voice to a whisper, Karl finishes his confession, "They scare me, dude."

Ulysses does his level best to suppress the smirk fighting to show up on his face. "That's the beauty of this. There is no commitment. It's no strings attached. And you can back out if you find out that it's not your thing."

*****

Madison is cross referencing the list of guests room to the key cards that she dumped onto the table in front of her. She stops on a name. Putting her finger on the name, she looks at her baby brother.

"Karl? Really? You went to recruit Karl? That's fucking ballsy," she asks trying to remain neutral and open minded.

Coughing nervously, "Karl actually came to find me. He overheard someone. Possibly the same person that Mom and Uncle Ryan overheard."

Madison's brain runs through several lines of thought. She settles on the thought that Karl is not a realistic threat. Madison shifts to the topic of the actual activity, "You did give him the warning about family participation, right?"

"Yes. Also, he did admit that you and Courtney scare the crap out of him and that he would reject either one of you."

Raising her eyebrows and spinning back to the list, Madison mutters, "Maybe he isn't THAT fucking stupid after all." Without another word, Karl is added to the list of participants.

*****

Karl is feeling excited and giddy about this evening. He pulls up an app on his phone to help him keep track of his alcohol consumption. He keeps the breath tube in his pocket in case that he needs it. He knows that he can duck off to go to the restroom to do a quick breath test. For now he just punches in the type of drink that he just ordered. The app keeps track of the time stamp and estimates his BAC based upon his last reported weight and meal. The league wants him to be more aware of how much his drinking. The most that he understands about the app is that it's maintained by a third party for privacy purposes.

"That's an awfully fancy app. Is that for you to keep track of your drinking?"

Karl looks up from his phone to see an unknown man in a polo shirt and khakis. Smiling like an idiot, "Yup. Coach wants us to better understand our party habits." Frowning as he thinks about the app, "Unfortunately, I always need someone to explain the monthly reports to me. It makes me feel stupid. Like, I can understand four different playbooks, break it down for my teammates. Hell, I can even explain the rules and plays to my family who don't understand a damn thing about football.

The other man's eyes get wide, "Wait, you're...!"

Karl hushes the man, "Please don't say my last name! Just call me Karl. I'm here for my cousin's wedding. I don't want to cause any drama for her. Please? Officer?"

Feeling confused and offended, he responds, "Why do you think I'm a cop?"

"Um. I don't know if I can explain it," Karl shrugs. "Explaining how I know you're a cop is like trying to explaining how I know how to breathe." Karl studies the officer's face. "You've run into my family a lot tonight, haven't you?"

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

"Com'n. I know I'm not book smart. But give me some credit," Karl pleads. "There's not many of us in my family that have never sat in the back seat of a cruiser." Karl waits for a response. "Do you want an autograph? I know I'm not famous professionally, but my college career was really good."

The officer relaxes. "No, I don't need your autograph. I'm actually kinda on the clock. But I wouldn't mind chatting with you over a couple of beers while I keep an eye out for who I'm looking for."

After glancing at his watch, Karl replies, "Well, I've got some time to kill before I need to go."

"Go? Go where? You're already at a bar. In a hotel. The next closest place to go drink is at least a ten minute cab ride."

"Oh, I'm not leaving the hotel. Especially after drinking, the app is telling me that I'm approaching my limit for what I'm wanting to do."

"For what you're wanting to do? And that is?"

"Getting laid, my man." Karl smiles broadly as he tells the cop this.

"Oh? Like that's a struggle for you?"

"Huh? No. Not normally. But I'm not anywhere near where I normally try to pick up chicks. I thought you would know that if you know who I am."

"Sorry, wasn't thinking it through. But you were saying that you're doing something concerning sex."

Smiling brightly, "Yeah, it's just in between the guests for the wedding. You know that cliché about wedding guests fucking each others' brains out? It's focused on that. Only wedding guests are invited to participate."

"Really? Could you tell me a little more information?"

Karl puts his empty beer bottle on the bar. "Sure. But do you want one? On me." The officer reluctantly agrees. Karl starts talking again after the next round of beer arrives and he notes the beer in his phone. "So, a couple of my cousins cooked up this idea in order to keep the single people at the wedding happy. They're super smart. And I do mean super smart. But, they also hate dealing with outsiders. I'm one of a few that don't mind talking to people that I don't know well, like years old well."

Not sure of the significance of the statement, the officer asks, "So your family is introverted, and you're an extrovert?"

"Naw, I wouldn't say that. They're really extroverted. Or at least in the way that my college psych tutor explained it to me," Karl scratches his chin. "They're just, what was the phrase? Um, 'Deeply suspicious of outsiders?' Especially the law."

"Interesting. Then why won't they talk to us? I'm sure that you've seen my partner."

"You mean all three of them, right?" Karl doesn't wait for an answer, even thought the officer is bothered by having the entire team picked out. "My family could have everything completely lined up to be legal with the city, county, and state and they will still look at you sideways. Just because our families are no longer just in the middle of nowhere West Virginia, Kentucky, or Tennessee doesn't mean that we've forgotten the stories our grandparents told us."

The cop feels totally confused by the frank and honest exposition from Karl. He blinks regularly to remind himself that he is awake and not dreaming.

"And as I babble on about my family, I've been thinking about what you said earlier about why you're here." Karl drains the last of alcohol from his beer bottle. "You want another? I'm still buying." The officer nodded while setting down the warm beer in his hand on the bar. Once new beers are delivered, Karl continues, "My family, and I mean my extended family, are much more into vigilantism. They agree with the majority of the laws we have. They just don't trust the cops." Karl is in full 'over-disclosure' drunk mode. "They like the concept, but don't think that it possible to have good cops in our current state. I'm still confused when they go off on the culture wars and, what was it they called it, socio-economic class something or another."

"What does this have to do with trusting local law enforcement?"

Shrugging and tipping the beer bottle back before responding, "I know that I'm not that smart, but I don't think you can really expect trust when someone is bullying your sister or brother in law because they got a darker tan. I mean shit, one of my, was it a third or fourth cousin, that got their dreadlocks shaved by a school nurse because of * hic*... I can't remember the official reason right now, I'm almost at my limit to have fun and not care what's happening around me. But it was something stupid about dreadlocks are not acceptable." Karl makes a dramatic dismissal with his hand, almost hitting another patron. He immediately apologizes to the woman.