Her hair flows around her as she raises the fire poker up to strike my idiot step-brother down. She’s wearing a spa robe and a snarl, like a warrior goddess straight out of the bath and onto the battle field while feathers float down around her and the sprinkler system showers the scene in a protective rain.
Judging by the prostitutes, the drugs, and Dan’s nudity, I’d say he deserves it, too.
For a moment, I consider letting her take her vengeance.
But then again…I don’t want to see a woman this beautiful end up in jail for assault.
I catch her wrist before she can rain down her justice. She lets herself fall into me at my touch.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you were going to kill him, were you?” I purr in her ear.
“No,” she admits. “But I was hoping that someone might stop me.”
I run my hand along her side, feeling Becky’s curves, having already decided this gorgeous fucking woman is way too good for that asshole Dan.
“What’s he done this time?”
This is not the first time I’ve got to bail Dan out of some fucking hole he’s dug for himself. Admittedly, over the last few years, these incidents have decreased, but in his teenage years, Dan was a fucking nightmare, stumbling from one fucking disaster into the next.
“What hasn’t he done would be a shorter conversation,” snarls Becky.
Women dressed in see-through bras, suspenders, and G-strings are still scattering around the suite.
White powder is piled on every flat surface. I’m assuming it’s cocaine. There are empty bottles of all kinds of alcohol scattered on the floor, together with clothes and other things I can’t identify at first glance.
I shudder.
Whoever was responsible for this was going to get a fucking huge bill, I’d see to that.
I can’t stand people who trash other people’s property.
The men, I find, huddled together now that Becky is disarmed. They make for a sorry fucking picture. It’s Dan the Man, his trusted sidekicks Connor, Chet, and Martin. Fucking losers, all of them.
This is all fucking Dan’s fault.
“I could still do it, you know,” Becky growls darkly.
“Sure, but I don’t want blood all over the carpet. It’s really hard to get out.”
To my delight, Becky laughs.
It’s the most gorgeous sound I’ve ever heard in my life.
“I want them gone,” Becky says, turning in my arms. She looks up at me with the most gorgeous, pleading green eyes I’ve ever seen. I could hardly deny her anything with eyes like that.
“You heard the lady,” I sneer down at Dan, who’s blubbering incoherently at our feet. “You better exit this suite before I give her back her weapon and let her finish the fucking job.”
“Becky,” Dan whimpers up to her. “It’s all a mistake, Becky-beans. It’s not what it looks like.”
I roll my eyes. Becky’s fingers twitch toward the fire poker once more.
“I would get going if I were you,” I suggest.
Dan the Man and his troop of idiots don’t have to be asked a third time. They gather their clothes and head for the elevator, a gaggle of prostitutes in tow.
As the party files out around us, Becky turns her face away from me. I can see a single tear bubble up over her lower lashes and stream down her cheek.
“No,” I whisper, wiping the tear away. “None of that.”
“I’m sorry,” she whimpers back. “It’s just…I had a lot riding on this. I thought he was a better man.”
“He’s not. If I would have met you before just now, I could have told you that.”
Becky looks up at me, green eyes glistening like emeralds.
“But he’s your brother,” she gasps.
“Step-brother,” I correct. “Bit of a wicked one, to tell the truth. Did he hurt you?”
She shakes her head no. “Just my pride.”
“Let me make this up to you,” I tell her, because she’s breaking my heart. And because she’s lovely, and she’s crying, and I’ve never seen a woman wield a fire poker quite like that before. “Anything you want in all of Las Vegas. Name it, and it’s yours.”
She sniffs, blinking away tears. “Anything?”
I take her hand in mine and kiss her fingers, just above the million-dollar engagement ring my idiot step-brother must have given her.
“Anything at all,” I promise.
“I just wanted a good night,” Becky says softly.
I grin. “Is that all? Darling, I’ll give you the best night of your life. The best you’ll ever remember.”
“I’d like that,” she grins back.
It’s good to see her smile. But the smile fades as her eyes land on the ring she’s still wearing.
“Just…one sec,” she says, twisting it off her finger and making for the door. “I’ve got one little thing left to do first.”
Chapter 36
Becky
8:30 PM THURSDAY
I’m hanging on every fucking word Liam is saying. And the longer he talks, the more fucking far-fetched his story seems to me.
When he concludes, I’m not sure if I should fucking laugh or cry. After having waited so fucking long to hear the last missing piece of the puzzle…it doesn’t seem to fucking fit.
“You’re fucking joking, aren’t you?”
A girl can hope, right?
Liam frowns a little and shakes his head.
Does he take me for a little girl who’ll just accept anything she’s told as long as it’s something? And what am I supposed to do with this information anyway?
Or…I guess I just don’t want it to be real.
“He couldn’t have been here,” I hear myself protest. “He’s in San Francisco. Not here in Vegas with hookers and drugs.” As I dissect his story, my conviction grows: Liam is lying to me. “Why would they be in our suite? And how the fuck would they get there anyway? It doesn’t make any fucking sense. I’m sorry.”
I take some deep breaths as I look at Liam.
Liam only shrugs.
“He’s a liar, Becky. He lied to you. Said he was in San Francisco so he could come to Vegas with his friends on his own. Got too fucked up on cocaine to remember which suite was theirs and came crashing into yours instead. Their party was in full swing when you guys came back from the spa and stumbled upon them.”
I feel like my heart is breaking all over again.
Dan loves me.
Dan bought me a million-dollar engagement ring. Dan would not hurt me like this. Dan was honest, hard-working, and back at home.
Except that Dan hasn’t been taking his calls. And our room was trashed, exactly as Liam described it. It would even explain my missing wedding ring, and why I must have felt so fucking close to Liam last night.
“But, the merger…” I insist, but I’m grasping for straws.
“Never happened,” Liam says. “All lies.”
Dan never wants to talk about his work, now that I think about it. If this is true, what else in our relationship has been a lie?
Was any of it even real in the first place?
My head is hurting already, and I try and focus. This was all a bigger mess than before.
I mean, how could any of this be happening?
Briefly, I close my eyes and lean back in my chair. Keep calm and stay fucking focused, I tell myself as I try very hard to order my thoughts.
Of course, I have this annoying buzzing in my head from too much alcohol. Memories of funny-colored drinks come back to haunt to me.
I reach for the coffee, which Liam gave me after he rescued us from those losers back at the casino. It’s gone cold by now.
The thought of earlier makes me hang my head in shame. Maybe Liam was treating me like a little kid and a fool because that is exactly what I was.
“It’s not true,” I say, because I don’t want it to be. “You’re lying to
me to keep me away from him.”
“Dammit, Becky,” Liam growls. “Think about it. Have you talked to him since?”
I bite my bottom lip. There had been several attempts to speak to Dan…and I did speak to Connor and Chet over the last couple of days…
Fuck. This was all so fucking confusing.
“Well, yes, I’ve called him,” I reply defensively and stick my chin out.
“You haven’t actually spoken to him, have you?” Liam is leaning toward me. “You’ve only been speaking to those dumbfuck henchmen of his. What are their names again? Connor, Chet and—who fucking cares.”
Unfortunately, his words hit home to me. It’s true I actually haven’t spoken to Dan personally.
“Well,” I start and stop again. “He’s busy at work…”
“Every fucking hour of every day?” Liam shakes his head. He’s getting more frustrated with me now. Raising his voice. “He’s not able to come to the phone out of his own fucking design! Because he’s still coked out of his mind, doing blow out of stripper’s asses while he lets you worry and stress and fret!”
Don’t cry, I tell myself. Stop fucking balling your eyes out every time you hear something not to your liking. You’re not a little girl anymore! Crying solves nothing; it only wears you out.
“I don’t fucking understand you Becky. You’ve been asking and asking me for what happened, and here I’ve told you in close detail what I know, and you don’t fucking believe me. What did you ask me for if you weren’t going to buy what I have to fucking say?”
“Dan is in San Francisco, working on his merger—” Now that I say it out loud, I feel really fucking silly.
“How hard is it to understand?” Liam’s running his fingers through his hair. “Dan is in Vegas. He’s still in Vegas. He’s avoiding your calls and having his fun while expecting me to lie to you and mop up the mess he’s made.”
The world is spinning, and I feel as if my limbs are getting heavier and heavier.
I’d hoped knowing what Dan did, if anything, would make me feel better.
But it only makes everything hurt more. The fact I’ve had a few too many drinks is no help either.
The buzzing in my head is increasing to unacceptable proportions. It feels as if a swarm of angry bees has been unleashed, and now they’re trying to find their way out. But of course they’re fucking trapped in my head.
Their buzzing is getting angrier and an angrier by the second. If this fucking racket continues for much longer, I think I will really have to puke all over Liam’s plush carpet and leather lounge.
God, no.
Please don’t let me make a total fucking fool of myself.
“Fuck.” Liam’s harsh words cut right through me and my self-pity. “I can’t believe you’re buying Dan’s fucking bullshit. You’re a much smarter woman than you give yourself credit for, Becky. But if you choose to believe that dumbfuck Dan, well, I can’t help you anymore.”
Wide-eyed, I stare at what so far has always been a calm, kind, and gentle man.
Liam stands up abruptly, and I feel fear grip my heart and squeeze tightly.
Thunderclouds are all over his face. His right hand is clenching into a fist.
I brace for the impact of hand or fist on my skin. I’ve never been hit before, but I bet it’s going to fucking hurt.
In movies, it looks painful.
I hope there won’t be any blood.
But if he’s going to hit me, I hope he hits hard enough so I pass out. If I pass out now, I can stop fucking thinking about all those crazy things he’s told me, and the angry bees will definitely stop their buzzing in my head.
But he doesn’t hit me.
Instead, he just tosses something onto my lap.
“I got you this. But I can see I was wasting my fucking time.”
He storms out, leaving a velvet green box in my lap.
Relief and horror washes over me. Of course Liam wouldn’t hit me. What had I been fucking thinking?
I mean, one just has to look at this sex god to know he’s the perfect gentleman. His eyes were always gentle and kind.
And yet you thought he was going to thump you, my inner voice reminds me, and I feel foolish. Guess that says a lot about my expectations from men after eight months with Dan the Man. Hard bottom, huh?
All I can do now is stare after him, open-mouthed. Should I run after him? Trouble is, in my current state, running is not an option.
Even getting up in my current state is going to be proving fucking difficult. Where were my bridesmaids? I need to speak with them urgently and give them the latest.
They’ll help me make a decision. I know they will.
Chapter 37
Becky
8:45 PM THURSDAY
Eventually, I decide I need to find the girls. If I had hoped for Liam to come back, he hasn’t.
And deep down, I know he won’t. Right now, I don’t fucking know what else to do but speak to my BFFs.
It takes me a little while to get my bearings and walk toward one of the doors out of this deluxe suite Liam has brought me to.
I paid no fucking attention where Percy, Mysti May and Sammi disappeared to. So randomly, I open doors and peer in. This place is a fucking labyrinth.
It’s upon opening a door with the words Private Bar on it that I find my BFFs. With a sigh of relief, I join them. Percy’s smoking cigars and has several drinks lined up in front of her.
“What the…” I start and point to the row of drinks.
“On the house,” explains Percy, blowing perfect rings of smoke into my face.
Some of it catches in the back of my throat, and I cough.
“So what did Liam have to say?” Sammi stands next to me, holding a glass of champagne in her right hand.
A glance in Mysti May’s direction confirms she’s also nursing something alcoholic. I shake my head.
What the fuck was happening to us? Are we turning into alcoholics? All we seem to have been doing since we fucking got here is drink, eat, and drink again.
Okay, I haven’t been doing much eating, but I’ve consumed my fair share of alcohol.
Which is worse.
“He charged at those dickheads like a raging bull,” Mysti recalls and giggles. “He’s certainly smitten by you.” Her eyes move past me. “What’d do you with him? Leave him tied up somewhere?” She giggles.
I close my eyes and reach for solid support. Lately, my legs seem to have fucking trouble keeping me upright, threatening to give way under me all the time.
Was I suffering muscle wastage or have I caught some rare fucking disease which is making me lose control of my body slowly? Or, like, my whole life?
Of course not, you idiot, my inner voice pipes up, but I quash it. I don’t want to listen to fucking reason right now.
All I want to do is wallow in self-fucking-pity. I know this achieves nothing, but that doesn’t do anything to change my mind.
“He…” I start and stop again. Briefly, I close my eyes and try to order my messed up head. I need to make sure I get the fucking order of events correct. “Liam told me what happened that night. It’s all so fucking confusing, and―”
Mysti May pats me on the arm. “Just tell us from the beginning what he told you.”
Sammi and Percy nod. They crowd around me.
I take another sip of my drink before I take a deep breath.
And then I tell them roughly what Liam told me.
They listen to me. Not one of them interrupts my story. And as I narrate what happened last night, an unsettling feeling comes over me.
Going over it like this…it spreads doubt through me. How could any of this have happened? Surely Dan wouldn’t just lie to me and pretend to stay in San Fran-fucking-cisco, would he? I shake my head.
Don’t fucking analyze as you tell the story, I remind myself and try and keep my thoughts on track.
“I don’t know what t
he fuck I should do? Any ideas, suggestions?” I finish my sorry saga and look at my best friends. Mysti May grabs a bottle out of a silver cooler I hadn’t noticed before and refills my glass.
Percy continues to blow fucking shapes of smoke as if she’s a dragon learning how to write using her nostrils.
The thought brings a little smile to my face. Imagine if she were a dragon. That would be fucking funny.
Maybe she could burn someone down? But who?
I’m so fucking confused I still don’t know what to make of all this and who to fucking blame― that is, other than myself.
“I don’t understand the big fucking deal,” Percy answers my question first. “I mean, you definitely married the hotter brother. Take it as a fucking sign, gorgeous. You’re meant to be with the sex god and not the loser. There’s always been something strange about Dan. I mean just think: Dan, what sort of a lame name is that? I say good riddance, Dan the Man.”
Not helping, I think to myself.
Mysti is playing with the straw in her drink. Her expression is all dreamy; like she’s having a wet dream she doesn’t want to share with anyone.
“I don’t know, Becky. I think you need to let bygones be bygones. After all, I’m soooo happy with my husband back in Texas. I mean, we’re like this.” She wraps her middle finger over her index finger as she speaks.
Percy looks and grins at me. It is the kind of look that says We all know she’s in the fucking closet and you can’t believe a fucking word she says on this subject.
A glance in Sammi’s direction, and I see her give me the same fucking meaningful glance: Who the fuck is she kidding?
I nod in agreement. We three know Mysti May is obviously fucking gay. I’m pretty sure she admitted it herself earlier.
But I guess now that things have calmed down, she’s tiptoed right back into the closet, huh?
I don’t fucking care. I’ve not met this perfect husband of hers anyway.
“What does it matter anyway?” Sammi asks.
“Because,” I reply and stop. It’s too fucking painful to work out why it matters.
“I mean, what you need to do is approach this logically and consider the facts,” Sammi says.
The Other Brother_A Billionaire Hangover Romance Page 21
