Betting On Us (Wilde Love Book 3)

by Kelly Collins

  That got a laugh out of both Rose and me.

  “I guess someone has to be as old as you around here,” I joked.

  He feigned hurt. “I’m only twelve years older than you, Kirsten, and nine years older than you, Rose.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me that I’m nearly thirty! That was such a low blow. Age to women is like Kryptonite to Superman.” I rose and stretched. “And on that note, I’m getting back to work.”

  The afternoon passed in a blur of excitement and nerves. I was genuinely happy to finally be going on a night out with Dean and Rose. I knew we’d have a great time together.

  But then there was Rafe…

  Always Rafe.

  I didn’t see how we could ignore each other at Capone’s, not when it was Katya’s first event. Her wedding had been an unexpected affair, and there had been so many people we could talk to that we easily avoided each other. That wouldn’t be the case tonight.

  What would happen if we found ourselves in close proximity, having both been consuming alcohol? I could only guess. And hope.

  Despite myself, and my promises to get over him, all I needed was the mere suggestion of an opportunity for something to happen between us, and I was easily reminded those promises were empty.

  So much for being an adult and moving on.

  Surely with Rose and Dean by my side, nothing would happen. Nothing happening would be for the best. I knew how forward I could be when I was drunk. If I spoke to Rafe—or worse, danced with him—I knew I’d try to escalate the situation, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

  When I finally clocked out of work at six, all my worries and excitement had joined to form one huge, all-important question. What on Earth was I going to wear tonight?

  Chapter Four

  By the time I reached Capone’s with Ian, the place was in full swing.

  “Seems like my new baby sister can do her job well,” Ian remarked appraisingly as we headed for the bar. He ordered us a bottle of red wine and two glasses—not what I had expected him to order at all.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “What? This is a classy night. May as well pretend to be classy.”

  “Naturally.” I knew darn well part of Ian was still keeping up appearances for Katya’s sake, though I also knew it would only take a glass or two of wine before he showed his true, brash self to her. Something told me Katya could take care of herself, but I was content to allow Ian to play out his charade a little longer.

  The wine he ordered was an excellent bottle. Smooth. Rich. Like velvet on the tongue.

  On stage, a troupe of cabaret dancers began the opening act of the night. Daringly dressed in a plethora of sparkling, glittering outfits, they held the eyes of most everyone in the room.

  They would have held mine, too, if Kirsten O’Leary hadn’t just walked into Capone’s and over to the bar with two strangers in tow. One stranger was a pretty woman probably around Kirsten’s age. I thought I recognized her from photos on Kirsten’s social media page, but the sandy-haired man laughing at something Kirsten had just said was completely unknown to me.

  Shit, he was a good looking guy. Even worse, Kirsten clearly got on really well with him.

  Did she have a boyfriend I didn’t know about?

  I turned to Ian, pointing out his sister at the bar.

  “Did Kirsten get a boyfriend?”

  Ian glowered at me. “What did I say yesterday?”

  “It’s just polite interest. She didn’t have a plus one at the wedding.”

  My friend considered me for a moment, clearly thinking long and hard about whether to respond. Then he sighed. “In all honesty, I don’t know. I think that’s her boss, from the vet clinic. Surname is Collins. Kirsten hasn’t mentioned seeing anyone when she’s come home for dinner, so the two of them could have been together for years for all I know. Pretty sure that isn’t the case though. However…”

  Ian narrowed his eyes at this Collins guy. He had a hand on Kirsten’s back as they made their way through the crowd to a table reserved for them. Katya jumped up excitedly to hug Kirsten when they reached her.

  “It’s kind of obvious he’s into her,” Ian finished, confirming my suspicions. “Which would be great since she’s trying hard to stay out of the family business.”

  “Her too, huh?”

  “She’s not doing too great a job, though. She patches up anyone who comes into that vet clinic. I think half the mobsters in Vegas are in love with her because of it.”

  I glanced over at Kirsten, surprised. I didn’t know she did that. Then again, what did I really know about her nowadays? We hadn’t really spoken in years.

  That guy fawned over her like she hung the moon and stars. And yet, Kirsten seemed oblivious. How could that be possible?

  Abruptly, I stood up, much to the chagrin of Ian.

  “Rafe,” he warned.

  “Ian, Katya is literally waving us over,” I replied, waving back to her as I walked toward her. Ian rushed out of his seat to follow me.

  “I’m watching you, you know,” he grumbled.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

  “Well, if it isn’t two of my four new brothers,” Katya said happily as she hugged us both. “I’m glad you could make it.”

  “Where’s Matt?” I looked around the dimly lit venue. “And Alex?”

  She pointed over her shoulder with a thumb. “Over there somewhere drinking shots. Why, you gonna abandon me for them?”

  “Of course not,” Ian cut in, smiling charmingly for her.

  God, he needed to get over his crush, pronto. Though it was hardly as if I could blame him—Katya was beautiful. But she wasn’t the only one. With the nightclub’s lights dancing around us, Kirsten’s red-brown hair looked on fire. Her beautiful green eyes were locked on me.

  With a small smile curling her lips, she said, “Well, if it isn’t Rafe Wilde. Long time, no speak.” Clearly, she intended to act as if we hadn’t been deliberately ignoring each other for the past few years, which was fine by me. More than fine.

  “It’s great to see you, Kirsten,” I replied, pulling her in for a hug. Oh God, she smelled amazing, and the figure-hugging dark green dress she wore meant I could see and feel every curve of her body.

  Get your mind out of the gutter, I thought ashamedly as she and I pulled away from each other. Get it together.

  “So this is the mysterious Rafe from your phone call, Kirsten,” came a male voice. It was the man who had entered Capone’s with her. She glanced at him and smiled.

  “I guess it is. Rafe, this is Dean Collins, my boss, and this…” she gestured to the woman standing next to her, “is Rose West, the other junior vet at the clinic.” Her eyes fell back to mine. “Guys, this is Rafe Wilde.”

  Dean’s eyes widened in recognition. “One of the Wilde brothers? I’ve had plenty of your men in my clinic depending on Kirsten to patch them up, but I’ve never seen you before.”

  I hated that he was so familiar with our world—with Kirsten and her world. It also irritated me that he was so accepting.

  “I’m out of the family business.”

  Kirsten’s friend Rose grinned at me, though I didn’t know why. Then she looked at Kirsten. “You failed to mention how hot your childhood friend was, Kirst,” she said, much to the obvious horror of Kirsten.

  So I was a ‘childhood friend’. That stung like a bitch even though I knew the statement to be true. I’d always wanted more. Still wanted more.

  Kirsten looked embarrassed. “Shut up, Rose.”

  “Never.”

  “Won’t you join us, Mr. Wilde?” Dean asked, a tone of superiority to his voice that very much implied Kirsten was with him and not me. I suppose I had no right to be jealous, but that didn’t change that I was.

  “I don’t suppose I can borrow Kirsten for a few minutes?” I asked, ignoring the outraged look Ian suddenly threw at me. I’d pay for this later, but for now, he wouldn’t risk embarrassing Kirsten or Katya for tha
t matter.

  “You can definitely borrow me, Rafe.” Kirsten grinned, and then, upon noticing her brother’s expression, she added on, “Don’t even start, Ian. Rafe and I are due a catch-up—you know we haven’t spoken in years. Go get Katya a drink. She prefers top-shelf vodka.”

  I laughed at Kirsten’s no-nonsense approach to dealing with her possessive older brother; I’d forgotten how little crap she took from anyone. Out of the corner of my eye, as the two of us walked away, I noticed Dean and Rose watching me. Dean looked somewhat annoyed, but Rose looked excited.

  Surely, if Kirsten and Dean were an item, then Rose would have been privy to that information. She wouldn’t look as if she desperately wanted something to happen between us.

  Going after what I wanted would be a bad thing. With the wine I had already drunk hitting my brain, I was feeling risky and careless. Yep, definitely a bad thing.

  The two of us stopped in a corner of Capone’s somewhat away from the bustle of the crowd and stage. Kirsten looked up at me through her long, thick eyelashes for a moment, then glanced away.

  “It really has been a while, Rafe,” she mumbled.

  “You’re telling me. Congrats on graduating and getting such a good job. I should have said that months ago.”

  “It’s okay. Congrats to you, too. Only just graduated yourself, and you’re already on the fast-track to partner at your new job, I hear. You must be damn good.”

  “Ha, you flatter me.”

  “Is it flattery if it’s true?” Kirsten looked back up at me again. God, she was beautiful. Her off-the-shoulder dress had me looking at her bare skin whether or not I wanted to. I felt an age-old heat build inside me. Gut twisting. Sweating palms. Embarrassing hard-on attraction.

  “You look…so damn great, Kirsten,” I admitted. Kirsten looked a little taken aback, but then she blushed and laughed quietly.

  “You’re looking great yourself, Mr. Wilde.”

  I stood taller and more proud that she still found me attractive. “Clearly, the years of law school stress have been good to me.”

  It was ridiculous how easy it was to fall back into the easy banter of our past. Our conversation continued in this manner for several minutes as we happily caught each other up on our lives. When Kirsten suggested we head to the bar to top off our drinks, I didn’t refuse.

  Everything I was doing was wrong. I shouldn’t have asked to speak to Kirsten privately. A quick glance over at the table where Ian sat glaring at me was all I needed to confirm that. Kirsten’s boss watched her with a somewhat pained expression on his face.

  “So what’s the deal between you and your boss?” I asked as she passed me a shot of tequila.

  “What do you mean, what’s our deal? He’s my boss.”

  Oh, poor guy. Kirsten really had no idea.

  “He seems pretty into you,” I said, not knowing why I was pushing the subject.

  “Don’t mind Dean. He’s flirty with every woman he sees. I’m not sure if he’s ever been serious about anyone.”

  Looking back at the table, I saw that Dean was now laughing along with Katya. I wondered if I’d imagined things, twisting an easygoing man’s intentions into something more than they were because of jealousy.

  I really needed to get over Kirsten. This kind of thinking wasn’t good for me. But all I had to do was look at her as we chimed our shots together, and I knew I would not be able to ignore her for long. At least not tonight.

  “To catching up,” Kirsten announced.

  “To catching up,” I repeated.

  We tossed our shots of tequila down our throats. I couldn’t help letting out a bark of laughter when I saw Kirsten wince and worm in distaste.

  “You know, for an Irish girl, you sure can’t handle your booze.”

  “I can handle it fine, thank you. I simply don’t like tequila.”

  “Why order it, then?”

  “Because I know you do.”

  “How magnanimous of you.”

  Kirsten’s eyes wandered towards the dance floor. The new act on stage was performing a dance to an upbeat rhythm. I found my foot tapping along to the beat despite myself.

  “Wanna dance, Rafe?” Kirsten asked, emboldened by the tequila. “For…old times sake.”

  How could I say no to that?

  “It would be my pleasure,” I replied, allowing Kirsten to take my hand and lead me to the dance floor. Just as we were about to reach it, there was a loud banging noise. We turned our heads in the direction of the ruckus.

  In rushed what seemed to be an entire precinct of police officers. It wasn’t unusual for the police to show up. This was Capone’s, after all. A club owned by the Wildes—a mob family the police had never been able to take down. Their eyes scanned the area until most of them fell on us. On Kirsten specifically.

  Instinctively, I pushed her behind me as three policemen wandered over to us, the entire club going silent as they watched. In the distance, I saw Ian, Katya, Dean, and Rose stand up and make their way toward us.

  “Kirsten O’Leary, you’re under arrest for the illegal distribution of narcotics,” the first policeman said.

  I turned to look at Kirsten as she stared at me in horror. I could barely hear the police recite her Miranda rights.

  “What the hell is this about, Kirsten?”

  “I don’t—I don’t know, Rafe.” Hysteria distorted her voice. “I have no clue what’s going on.”

  The policemen forced me to stand aside as they put Kirsten in handcuffs and walked her out of Capone’s. Katya, Ian and Kirsten’s work colleagues shouted after them, but their yelling fell on deaf ears.

  I was numb.

  I so easily fell back into step with Kirsten although I’d promised I wouldn’t. She was clearly still a part of the dark underbelly of Las Vegas. The exact place I wanted to escape from. How could I have been so stupid?

  As I watched through the open door as the policeman pushed Kirsten into the back of his car, I had a more pressing question. How could she?

  Chapter Five

  My mind was numb.

  What the hell just happened?

  How did I find myself in the back of a police car, hands bound in cold, steel cuffs and a drugs charge filed against me?

  It was madness.

  The only thing even close to illegal I’d done in my entire life was helping out the people who came into the clinic to get patched up—but not once had I used any of the drugs I’d supposedly distributed while helping them out.

  Okay, there was also the underage drinking before I turned twenty-one, but nearly everybody was guilty of that.

  This reeked of a set-up. The only thing was…I had no idea who could be responsible. I had no enemies, and with the mob factions getting muddied by marriage and secret children, there wasn’t a big likelihood it was them. We’d all become melded as family almost overnight. The one constant in all crime families was, family was first.

  It was in a haze of panic and confusion that I arrived at the police station where they took my belongings and placed me in a holding cell. It was empty; I was the only person in it. Somehow, that made me feel worse. I shivered from the cold, not sure if it was caused by the emptiness I felt inside or the hard slab of concrete I sat on.

  I thought of Rafe and the way he looked at me as I was being arrested. He believed the charges. He had to know I wasn’t an out-and-out drug dealer, but he believed there was at least some truth to what I was arrested for. He looked at me as if he had wished he’d never chosen to speak to me tonight. He looked as if he wanted nothing to do with me again.

  It wasn’t fair. I wasn’t guilty. I wanted out of the mob life just as much as Rafe did. How dare he assume I’d fall into illegal activities? Although we hadn’t spoken in a few years, he had to know I wasn’t the kind of person who would allow highly dangerous narcotics to be distributed around Las Vegas.

  I mean, come on. I vaccinated bunnies and helped with the delivery of puppies and kittens, for God’s sake. I st
itched up people somewhere they felt safe.

  All I wanted—all I ever wanted—was to help people. I’m the last person who’d want to damage the Vegas population. I knew how lethal some drugs I worked with could be on people. If those drugs had really found their way onto the streets…

  I shuddered. It wasn’t something I wanted to think about. Besides, surely Dean would have mentioned if our stocks were unexpectedly low of the usual drugs and tranquilizers we used. Given the nature of the chemicals, Dean kept a very strict record of what was and wasn’t used. It just didn’t add up.

  I was broken out of my reverie by the appearance of a policeman who ushered me out of the holding cell and into an interrogation room. A grim-looking man with thinning brown hair sat at a table in the middle of the room. He tapped a pen on an empty pad of paper.

  When the policeman left, I turned my gaze over to the man sitting opposite me.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  He looked at me with a blank, measured expression on his face. “I hoped you’d be able to answer that exact question, Dr. O’Leary. I’m Detective Charles Peters. I’ll be taking charge of your case.”

  “There is no case!” Agitation rose from my belly to my throat, the acid burning with every breath I took. “I have no idea what I’m doing here.”

  “Dr. O’Leary, I need you to calm down.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Maybe I’m a little upset that I got publicly dragged away from my friends and family by the police for a crime I didn’t commit.”

  The detective sighed and then placed a piece of paper in front of me. “These are the charges against you. We have several eyewitnesses who saw you selling the listed drugs to known dealers.”

  I glared at the man, then looked down at the paper and frowned. A few names caught my attention immediately.

  Ketamine.

  Morphine.

  Fentanyl.

  Oh no. Not Fentanyl. That stuff was tens of times stronger than heroin. I felt the blood drain from my face and grow cold as I scanned the rest of the list.

  “How do you know these drugs are on the streets?” I asked Peters. My voice was barely audible. I knew I was shaking, but I couldn’t help it. I was out of my element.