Sucker Bet (Vegas Vampires #4)(14)
Author: Erin McCarthy

"I’m fine, thanks so much. Sorry to cause trouble." Or more sorry she hadn’t been smarter. Damn, she should have just taken Nate to her room. But she had been worried about how that would look to him or to any staff who might see her entering her room with an unidentified man. It was safe to say that this looked worse.

Sam hesitated, adjusting his cell phone headset on his ear. "Okay, then. Have a good night."

He turned around and headed back toward the elevator. Gwenna bit her lip. "Sam?"

"Yes?"

"You’re going to tell Mr. Carrick about this, aren’t you?" It was his job, she knew that, to inform Ethan of anything out of the ordinary. This certainly qualified as that.

But Sam shook his head. "Not if you don’t want me to. If something has no bearing on hotel and casino security, I’m not obligated to tell Mr. Carrick about it."

He was letting her off the hook, sweet man. But Gwenna suddenly found that she was tired of worrying about her brother’s reaction to her behavior. The goal she had set for herself was independence, and that had to start with being honest with her brother—telling him she loved him, but she needed to live her own life.

"No, that’s fine, Sam. Feel free to tell Ethan. Or I can mention it to him myself. I shouldn’t be up here. Though if you don’t mind, I’d like the tape destroyed."

Sam almost grinned. She saw his mouth tilt up before he caught himself. "Sure thing." He nodded. "Good night."

As the elevator doors closed, Nate turned back to her. He looked amused himself. "Did we just make a sex tape?"

"It seems that way." At least he didn’t appear angry with her.

"I wish I had known. I would have made sure my good side was facing the camera."

Gwenna laughed in spite of her lingering embarrassment. "Which side is your good side?"

"You tell me." His arm went around her waist, and he pulled her to him.

She liked the way he did that, so casually, so easily.

It seemed perfectly natural to say what she was thinking. "The front side. Bottom half."

"Yeah? Want to see it again? Somewhere without cameras?"

This was it. She could walk away now, astonished that she had felt such passion, but still slightly embarrassed that she had, or she could really thrust herself out of her comfort zone and explore the desire Nate inspired in her.

They had all night.

She had nowhere to be.

She’d had several pints of blood before heading out to meet Slash.

And her brother and ex-husband were somewhere else.

"I think I just might like that." Gwenna kissed him deeply. "The massage rooms don’t have cameras."

"Lead the way."

She just loved the sound of that.

Chapter Five

Ringo Columbia sat in the ugly chair Kelsey had picked out for their new apartment and tried to focus on the two men in front of him.

Maybe he’d used a little too much this time, because he had the serious feeling that he was going to throw up. Just lean forward and hurl out all that blood, all that heroin, all his innards and breath and control. He hated this pain, this nausea, hated that no one would just leave him the f**k alone.

"Go away," he told Donatelli’s bodyguards, Smith and Williams.

"You know we can’t do that," Williams said, shaking his thick head back and forth. "You’ve got to return the stuff or pay for it."

"I can’t return it." He’d shot up almost all of it, desperate enough that he’d skipped his preferred method of drinking his heroin in blood. This time he’d been so hungry for it, he’d just taken a needle and arm-popped it, not even looking for a vein. "And I don’t have the money. So go away."

That would be the best thing, if they would just get out and leave him alone. He wanted to be alone. That seemed easy enough to him. Just open the door and disappear. But they wouldn’t and it made him feel bitter as hell. What the f**k did he ever do to them?

Williams nailed him in the face with his fist, the force snapping Ringo’s head back while Smith started a search of the apartment, ripping open their kitchen cabinets and desk drawers. Kelsey was going to be pissed. She worked her skinny ass off keeping their place clean and filled with weird little decorative shit, like pictures of apples and stands with scented candles. He could never figure out what was so great about having their house stink like cinnamon all the time, but she dug it.

Ringo should move out of the chair. He should stand up and kill both of the ugly motherfuckers, just take them out. He was faster and smarter and he should be able to fix this.

But he couldn’t stand, not when he felt so sick and strung out, and the hazy sleepiness blanketed over the stomach rot and pounding skull. He took another hit to the head, and he groaned at the pain, leaning over the side of the chair and puking on the carpet.

Williams made a sound of disgust and stepped back. Good. Ringo hoped he’d leave, but the front door opened and he heard Kelsey’s voice.

"What’s going on here?"

"Hey, baby," he said, struggling to keep his eyes open. It would be so much easier to just let them close, to fall asleep and have the voices and the pain disappear.

Cold water hit him in the face. "Shit!" He jerked upright in the chair. His wife had thrown a glass of water all over him. "What the hell was that for?"

She stood there, her skinny legs apart, full lips pursed, the empty glass in her hand. "While you’re just sitting there sleeping, they’re wrecking our apartment."

"I wasn’t sleeping." Was he? He wasn’t sure. Now that he looked around, it seemed like Smith had made a lot of progress on destroying the room. There were cushions, papers, drawers pulled out everywhere.

"Okay, so you’ve been resting your eyes for the last ten minutes. Whatever. Call it what you want. Now get these guys out of here, Ringo." Her voice veered into whining. He really hated when she whined.

"I’d love to, but I don’t think they’re going to leave without their money, babe. Got any cash?"

Her shoulders slumped, her sexy little black shirt shifting over and exposing her shoulder. Ringo thought Kelsey was just the prettiest little stupid woman he’d ever met, though her brand of stupid was different than true dumbness. Kelsey was more random than idiotic, and she had some really killer qualities that he liked. He really did love her. He liked the way she giggled. But damn it, she wasn’t giggling much anymore. That was a big-ass shame. She was a good giggler.

"No, I don’t have any money." Kelsey turned to Smith. "How much?"

"Two grand."

"Ringo!" Her horrified expression made him ashamed, which made him angry.