by Kira Graham
“That’s my girl. You can do this. Remember—oh, fuck,” she whispers, her eyes going wide when she glances behind me towards the doors we just came through.
Turning slightly, I feel my face drain of color when I lock eyes with none other than Dennis Upperton, the first of only two men who have ever broken my heart. Seeing him here, after all these years, is like a punch to the gut. I really cannot do this, I think, sharing a panicked look with Rosetta, who looks fit to be tied.
“That sniveling weasel!” she hisses, keeping her voice low so that the guys don’t hear her when they join us and hand each of us a glass of champagne.
I want to tell Cameron that I despise champagne, for personal reasons that I will not think about right now, but I need booze, so I down the glass in one swallow and ask him for another. Rose does the same, only her glass doesn’t make it through the handoff because she’s so annoyed that she clutches the stem and snaps the thing in half.
“Shit! Dammit,” she mumbles as I gasp, taking in the blood that’s welling up in her palm.
“Rose, come on,” I command, handing the broken glass to her date and pulling her behind me towards the ladies’ room.
“Cleo—”
“Hush. Let me take a look at that hand, before you let loose and the cops show up.”
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea—” Rose starts, screwing her face up into a grimace as we hustle into the ladies’ room and head toward the sink.
There’s a lot of blood when she opens her hand, and I cringe slightly when I see the deep cut running across her palm, the slice causing spots to dance in my vision when I see what I think may be fatty tissue peeking up at me.
“Hush, Rose. Of course you didn’t. Shit, babe, this is bad. I think you’re going to need stitches,” I whisper, forcing away the dizzy spell.
I hate blood, and seeing the stuff isn’t all that much fun for me, considering that I usually pass out at the sight of the first red drop that appears. But for Rose, and maybe for me, too, I knuckle down and hold her hand under the water, hissing along with her when it hits the wound.
“Just get me a napkin or something. It’ll keep until I can go to the emergency room.”
“What? Rose, no—you can’t walk around with your hand like this all night.”
“Watch me. And it’s not going to be like this all night. I’m pretty sure that it’s going to bleed a lot more when I use it to pound the hell out of Dennis Upperton’s ugly face,” she mutters, her violence bringing a reluctant smile to my face despite everything I’m feeling right now.
“Rose, no. Just let it go. You were right when you said that I needed to ignore these things and just focus on tonight. Hart is still out there, and I do not need this devolving into anything uglier than it already is,” I tell her firmly, tying the silk kerchief from my clutch around her hand.
It’s still bleeding a bit, and it’s really much deeper than I’m happy with, but Rose has that glint in her eye that she always gets when she’s determined to do something, and that’s what I have to focus on right now.
“But Cleo! I can’t just stand around all night seeing that—that asshole swanning around here and mingling. Did you notice that he’s alone? Well, that’s because he was caught cheating on his wife. Word on the street is that he took her for half her fortune in the divorce, and that now he’s on the prowl. I don’t want that garbage anywhere near you in your current frame of mind,” she says, being brutally honest.
As if.
“I’d rather blow a snake and risk multiple venomous bites than go near that man,” I say evenly, meaning it with all my heart. “And I really don’t want a scene tonight. I’m hanging in there, Rose, but the Hart brothers are all here, and I don’t think that I can handle Adonis right now. Let’s just make our excuses and catch a cab to the hospital,” I plead, eyeing the door as if someone’s bound to burst in at any moment.
With my luck, I’ll have to face both Adonis and Dennis if I walk out there right now, and that’s not something that I even remotely want to do, I realize, eyeing the window with longing.
Rose sighs, and, as usual, she gives in to my wishes, her shoulders slumping as she tightens the kerchief and grumbles something under her breath.
“I’ll hold off on the whole beat-down that I want to give Dennis, but we aren’t leaving until you prove to those idiots that you’re made of sterner stuff than they expect. We’ll hang for ten minutes and then scramoose,” she says, her tone commanding.
“Fine. But if someone comes over during that time, you are not reacting,” I remind her, my mind made up.
Gratuitous violence can be a good thing at the right time, but right now is not the time for Rose to get arrested. Sure, she has a few friends in law enforcement, and sure, she wouldn’t get into too much trouble in the end, but that’s not the point. I want this to be a good night, or at least one during which a certain someone can watch me move on, with class. And then kiss my ass.
“Fine. But I make no promises if certain things get said, Cleo,” she warns, smiling when I tilt my head, consider her words, and then nod.
Hell, I’ve been in lockup before.
Adonis
My teeth feel like they’ve been ground to powder by the time I see Cleo and Rosetta walk back into the room, a purple scrap of cloth tied around the redhead’s hand in a way that has Zeus going stiff beside me.
“Don’t,” I mutter, reminding him that going anywhere near her right now isn’t a good idea.
When I imploded my relationship with Cleo, it sent Zeus into a tailspin, something I feel awful about because I never once considered what my actions would do to whatever he’d had going with Rosetta. Frankly, I don’t think there was much, but I do feel guilty about the fact that she now refuses to take his calls and also won’t talk to the rest of my family.
At first, things were okay. Until the Sweets got uncomplimentary about me, and my brothers took umbrage. Not that they don’t agree with the Sweet family, but loyalty is an integral part of our own family, and we don’t badmouth each other, no matter how we feel.
The only people who still talk to each other anymore are my parents and the elder Sweets, but even there, things are strained—thanks to the fact that Angelica saw me having lunch with another woman the day after I broke it off with Cleo.
God forbid that she would think like a reasonable adult and assume that I was having a business lunch, I think, my mouth going tight because that’s a lie. It wasn’t business. The minute I walked out of that apartment, I fell right back into my old habits and went out with the first skinny gold digger I could find. The date was a bust, as they usually are, but this time it was mostly because I spent all afternoon stewing about Cleo and the tears she’d shed before I’d gotten my ass away from her.
I’m miserable over this mess, and even more bothered by the fact that Cleo didn’t stay at Zeus’s place like I suggested. She left that same night and got herself an apartment a week later, and I haven’t heard a thing since because Beau told me to screw myself, and my brothers refuse to talk to me about Cleo. At all.
When they deign to talk to me at all, that is. Things are strained between us all, and, to make matters worse, I’m starting to regret getting so worked up during the way I handled things. That’s a problem I have. I think with my dick and react with my temper, a combo that doesn’t usually get me very far, I think, shaking my date Farrah off with an annoyed glare.
The damn woman’s as clingy as fuck and hasn’t stopped stroking me since we got here. It’s times like these when I miss Cleo’s reluctance to cling. We were affectionate, sure, but she didn’t hang all over me like a freaking vine.
“Addy, are you going to take me home after this?” Farrah purrs, trying to be seductive but failing miserably because I find myself unimpressed with the desperation I see in her eyes.
Cleo wasn’t into flirtation or dropping hints the way these women are. She’d walk into the room, kiss me, and tell me to take her to bed. Open, hones
t, and—dammit!
“No,” I tell her firmly, guilt filling me when her face crumbles. “Look, honey. I’m sorry, but I’m just not in the mood tonight. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t I get my driver to take you to Verge? I have a VIP box there. Call your friends and see if they want to hang. It’s on me,” I say gently, smiling when she grins happily and nods, already reaching for her phone.
Five minutes later, I’m left standing beside a scowling Zeus, while my driver deals with Farrah, and my eyes drink in Cleo. She looks amazing tonight, but I kind of miss the baggy clothes and the fact that her body was rarely on display. Tonight, she’s all curves and round attributes in a black dress that hugs her flesh and hints at the delights that I miss so much, my balls ache.
“Christ. Is he trying to crawl inside her skin?” I snarl, taking in the way that the blond idiot beside her keeps moving closer.
He’s smiling at her and saying something that makes her lip twitch, a sure sign that she’s fighting laughter. I don’t like that, and neither do I like the way that he puts his hand on her hip, staking a claim that—
Goddammit.
“Stop growling, asshole. You made her fair game, and now she’s back on the market,” Ares grumbles, his annoyance with me transmitted in the glare he throws my way.
“Shut up.”
“You shut up. You did this. You screwed everything up, and now my Sweet Tee won’t even take my calls.”
“Stalker.”
“At least I’m trying. All you do is sit around sulking all day and then pretending to date. Admit it, Adonis. You fucked up, and you regret letting her go,” he hisses, his face going dark when I clench my lips shut tightly.
“I’m not talking about this.”
“Great. Because I think we should talk about the fact that Dennis Upperton has finally stopped searching for his nuts and is headed Cleo’s way,” Zeus snarls, already walking before he’s done talking.
I follow with a snarl of my own, my blood boiling when I see him slithering his way toward Cleo, a slimy smile on his ugly face.
“Real mature, man. Why don’t you say something a little less pathetic, if you’re into talking to yourself now?” Paris grunts, his grimace turning into a wild-eyed glare when we hear Rose curse.
Right before Cleo draws back a fist and hits Dennis so hard that I hear the snap of bone and watch the idiot crumble to the floor.
“That’s for embarrassing me!” she yells, her voice a shrill scream that has the other partygoers freezing and turning to stare.
She kicks him, then, hard, and stands over him, panting and wearing a murderous expression that makes me so hard, I have to pause to adjust my cock before I speed up my strides.
“You’re nothing but a money-grubbing snake, and I wouldn’t go out with you if the choice was between you, Rosie O’Donnell, and a rabies-infested dog!” she yells, giving him another solid kick. “You can say what you want about me, you weasel, but you leave my family alone!”
The next kick wakes the asshole up enough that he groans and tries to curl into a ball, so much of a wimp that he doesn’t bother to try to fight back. Not that I blame him, I think, my body going hard with arousal. Cleo is magnificent, radiating fiery vengeance and spewing power as she stands over the man, panting and glaring so hard that if looks could kill, he’d be dead.
“Sweetheart—”
“Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me, you piece of garbage! I’ve been having a heart attack for the last two weeks about those phone calls, and it’s been you! I should call the cops and have you arrested for harassment,” she rages, her eyes winging up to meet mine when I growl and take a step forward. At that, she tells me, “Stop right there.”
“Cleo—”
“No. You stop right there, Adonis Hart. I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, and I most certainly do not need to be indebted to you after the horrendous way you spoke to me. The time for coming to my defense was three weeks ago, and this is way too little, too late. I can do my own dirty work, thank you very much.”
That hurts me because, no matter what happened between us, I can’t just stand by and let Cleo near this guy. I despise him, and the thought of my…dammit, I just don’t want her anywhere near this guy.
“Babe, you need to stop. You’re causing a scene and leaving a lot of witnesses,” I hear Ares whisper as he steps closer to her and leans down to talk into her ear.
He says something else that I don’t hear, but I see Cleo nod, give Dennis one last look, and then turn on her heel and allow Ares and Rosetta to lead her out of the room.
My first instinct is to lay into Upperton, but, like Ares said, there’s a room full of witnesses who are already starting to chatter, and from the expression on Cleo’s date’s face, people aren’t as impressed with her show as my brothers and I are.
Achilles is grinning, a satisfied smirk on his smug face, and even Paris can’t quite hide a smile when Upperton groans and rolls over, his nose swollen at an odd angle against his left cheek. Christ. Remind me not to piss in Cleo’s cereal. The woman obviously knows how to throw a punch.
“You gonna…?” Zeus drawls, chuckling darkly when I throw a glare at Cleo’s date, the look so filled with aggression that the pussy gasps and takes a step back before he scampers out of the room, calling Cleo’s name.
“I’ll do it,” I drawl, going down on my haunches beside Upperton as he blinks his eyes open, which are already filling with tears.
Pussy.
“Hey there, prick. Looks like it’s not just a rumor—you really are soft,” I taunt, enjoying the way Upperton’s eyes go hard when he sees me.
I laid this guy out once before, on the day that I found out he’d knocked Allie up and wasn’t going to marry her. I guess that’s also why I went off the rails a little when I found out about Cleo. I am, or was, at least partly responsible for what happened to her on her wedding day, and I was also, if I’m honest, not very complimentary about her when Upperton started whining about his future bride.
Seven years ago, I was little more than a college student with a massive chip on his shoulder and no thought for anyone else except those I loved. I feel as guilty as hell for going off on Cleo the way I did, not because she didn’t deserve it, but because I was so angry that I completely overlooked my own actions in the matter.
“Fuck you, Hart,” Upperton snarls, whimpering when I flick my index finger over his nose and smile darkly.
“Nah, Upperton. You’re not my type, man. Or Cleo’s, from the looks of that nose. I think she was going for your crotch when she was kicking you. You should have told her that you don’t have a dick or balls to injure.”
My words make him curse, but I hear a rumble of masculine laughter coming from my brothers and a few other men who know me. While I appreciate the solidarity, this next part needs to be just for his ears, because I don’t want to have to waste time answering questions from the cops if he decides to make a thing out of this.
“I despise you, Upperton, and I have since the day you messed with Allie. But that’s all in the past, and, as far as I’m concerned, Al and that kid are better off without you in their lives. Allie is strong, and she’s onto your ass. Cleo, though—she has no idea just how dangerous you are, so let me tell you this, and you’d better make sure you’re listening, motherfucker. Stay away from Cleo and the Sweet family. She said you’ve been calling her? Stop, or you’ll be eating peas through a straw. Oh, and Upperton? This little misunderstanding between you and Cleo? It’d better not involve the cops or any kind of law enforcement,” I warn him, my tone so threatening that I see him flinch before he tries to act cocky.
“Oh, yeah? And what are you gonna do, Hart?” he asks, his bloodshot green eyes going wide when I smile and shake my head slowly.
“Nothing the cops will be able to prove.”
With that final shot, I rise, give the bastard one last look, and stalk out of the fancy ballroom with my brothers all laughing and trailing behind me.
“Where did they go?” I ask Zeus as soon as we’re all piled into the car, the fit tight thanks to Achilles and his penchant for stretching out wherever he is.
“How the fuck should I know? I’m not a stalker. Ask Ares,” he mutters, his face going dark when my younger brother flushes and whips out his phone, punching in a code before frowning and then smiling brightly.
“It looks like my little firebug is on the move and heading towards the hospital. Ahhhh, another shot,” he sighs, giving me a happy smile. “Don’t mess this up for the rest of us.”
I grunt in answer because the truth is, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore. I don’t trust Cleo, and not just because she didn’t talk to me about herself, but also because I feel as if every step we’ve taken since we met was one she directed. I’m used to being in control, and, while I know it’s a dick thing to expect, I wanted her to follow me, at least sometimes. Not all the time, because I’m not some Neanderthal who needs a woman to be weak and simpering when he’s around. But still.
Hell, I don’t know. I guess I just don’t know if I can risk putting all of myself into something with Cleo when she’s so obviously not ever going to fully open up to me. I haven’t read that file on her yet, since I couldn’t bring myself to look at it again, and that’s the point. To know her, I’d have to look at it, because she sure as shit isn’t going to tell me.
And no, despite that teary conversation we had, I don’t think that she would have gone all the way that night. She was, and still is, too wrapped up in the past to fully be in the present with me…
“Christ, are you going to sit there brooding all night, or what? And before you start snarling bullshit at us, Adonis, let me warn you that we all know you. You’re second-guessing things already, just like always, and trying to push things into boxes so they fit. Cleo isn’t going to fit in some box just because you want her to. And she shouldn’t have to,” Paris sneers, his expression filled with disdain when I grind my jaw and meet his gaze.
