Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I fucking miss her. And I hate it.
Why not do something about that?
Brice is still out there and she still needs me. Even if she thinks she doesn’t, I know Panagos is the least of her worries. Her moron father is taking money from some very shady characters and that’s going to blow up in his face sooner rather than later, and here I am drowning my sorrows instead of doing what I really want to do, which is go to Dallas and save her ass—again.
There’s a shout and a scuffle over in the corner and sure enough, it’s Evander loudly explaining to some staff why he’s allowed to break a chair on the floor if he so desires while Lanzo eggs him on and Ford and Gareth try to mediate. The poor girl Evander was dancing with looks mortified and I wonder if the big guy blew his chances with her, but kind of doubt it. Somehow Evander can act like a total caveman and still everyone loves him because the bastard’s clever and charming and handsome.
My friends are monsters. They’re bastards, players, assholes, killers, and thieves, and I love them to death. I want to be with them right now more than anything in the world but I can’t get Brice out of my head, and the worry is eating at me like a swarm of pissed-off wasps. If I can’t get it under control, it’ll destroy me, and I’m not about to let myself get ripped to shreds.
There’s only one thing I can do, and that’s to get off my ass, stop obsessing so damn much, and do something.
“Here’s to the Atlas,” I say, raise my glass to the boys, and toss it back. I slide the empty to the bartender. “Put the bill on my tab, whatever they end up owing.”
“Of course, Mr. Scavo.”
I stand up and walk to the door, hands shoved in my pockets. Lanzo catches my eye before I can make a quick exit, but he only grins and winks and blows me a kiss.
I grin back, unable to help myself, and slip out the back. I’ll make it up to them later. For now, I have business.
Chapter 24
Brice
“You look like you’re having so much fun!” Robyn yells to me over the deafening club music as it pulses and pounds all around us. “Seriously! You can’t stop smiling! You’re having so much fun and it’s totally infectious!”
I glare at her. “That’s not true.”
“No shit! You’re a huge Debbie Downer!” She shoves a glass of champagne into my hand. “Drink! Now!”
I do as I’m told even though I don’t like it. Robyn dances with Sara and Cassidy, and I do my best to keep up, but even losing myself in the darkness of the club, in the pulsing lights coming from the DJ’s stage as the music slams down around us in a visceral waterfall of adrenaline and pure sex, I still can’t make myself enjoy anything. I feel lost, adrift, and it’s easy to lose myself in the crowd except every time I really try to sink into the music and the dancing and the people, flashes of him keep coming back.
It’s not that I’m thinking about Carmine all the time. I’m definitely not thinking about Carmine constantly. I’m not wondering about him, I’m not picturing what it would be like for him to sweep me off my feet, and I definitely don’t want him to be here with me right this second.
I’m not thinking about him and I don’t care.
Carmine stabbed my father in the back and got him thrown into jail all so he could take control of my family’s company. He’s a snake and a liar and a cheater and a bastard, and I hate him now more than I ever did, even more than when he rubbed my face in the dirt during the softball game, more than when he took my virginity in the piano room, more than when he held me in bed and kissed my neck and made me feel safe and loved and cared for and heard for the first time in my life.
I definitely don’t miss him like my own breath, like my own heartbeat.
“Oh my god, she’s doing it again!” Robyn yells and somehow another glass of champagne gets shoved into my hand.
“Doing what?” I ask, looking around at my friends.
“Moping,” Sara says.
“You have this look on your face like you’re thinking about the end of the world,” Cassidy says and nods at the champagne. “That might help. Or not, so far it’s only making you worse so I don’t know.”
I sip this time instead of throwing it back. My friends mean well but this club isn’t doing anything for me. No matter how loud the music gets, no matter how many handsome men swirl around me and ask for a dance, I can’t get that one man out of my head.