When we reach her, she’s sobbing so hard her mascara is smeared across her cheeks.
“Everything okay?” Percy asks.
“These dickheads won’t uncurse me!”
There are few things people won’t do to appease a truly angry woman. But apparently, Mysti May’s feminine wiles haven’t worked on these angry monks…who are looking angrier by the minute, I’m afraid.
“We’ll deal with it later,” I tell her. “We’ve gotta go.”
I quickly fill her in, telling her everything we’ve learned.
She actually perks up a little when I mention the mafia.
“Okay. So, where to then?” she asks.
“Don’t worry,” Liam says, grinning like a shark. “I’ve got this part.”
As one, we head back towards the road. If anything, even more determined to figure this mess out.
Chapter 14
Lock
12:45 PM SATURDAY
“Look, mate, I’m really sorry about this. I am.” I hang up on Sams. “But the wife called. You know how it is.”
He yells me some more about being naked.
Now, why am I still naked, you ask? And where did I get this phone?
Well, buckle the fuck up for this shit show.
I get out of my shower at the hotel. Let me tell you, it felt good to get that stink and sweat off me.
Thing is, I go to put on some clothes, and my fucking suitcase is gone. Fucking straight up gone. Like it grew legs and caught a flight out of the city.
I call downstairs to the front desk. I’m thinking, surely there will be some camera footage or something.
Fat fucking chance of that. But what do I get from the hotel management for all this bullshit?
“Sorry, sir, nothing we can do.”
What kind of fucked up shit is that?
But I’m Lachlan Williams. I always an emergency plan for this kind of shit.
Plan B time, mate.
Now, whoever showed up in my room may have taken my suitcase, but they didn’t touch the stash of spare money I kept in my travel bag.
Why didn’t they, you ask?
Simple. My travel bag was in the bathroom with me.
The downside to all of this is that I’m back on the stinky, humid streets of Bangkok in nothing but a towel.
It’s a step up from being completely fucking naked. Now my cock isn’t flapping in the wind like some elephant trunk, and old Thai ladies can’t grab my arse out of nowhere.
I mean, they are still grabbing and pinching my arse, but at least the towel stops them from breaking skin.
First thing I grab is a replacement phone.
Smart, right?
That’s me. Lachlan Williams. Always thinking.
Of course, I’m pretty sure the only reason I was able to get one is because the Thai girl behind the counter wanted to ride me like rodeo bull.
I’ll take a win whenever I can.
That then leads me to where I am now. Which is getting yelled at in Thai by a street vendor about me being in a towel at his shop.
Truthfully, I’m just fucking happy he isn’t some durian vendor trying to throw spiky fruit at my arse again.
I still have little indents from earlier on my right cheek.
Let me be honest here. The clothes I’m buying are not my style. At all. Hell, I don’t think they’ve been anyone’s style since the 80’s or 90’s.
But clothes are clothes—and they sure beat a towel.
I’m putting on these baggy black and grey harem pants—which are way more comfortable than I thought—and a neon purple button up shirt with gold trim and strips going down the front.
I look like a cross between a MC Hammer backup dancer from the 90’s and some idiot who honestly thinks that this is the latest in Thai fashion.
Did I mention I’m in the middle of the street getting gawked at while I dress? No? Well, there’s a fun mental picture for you.
The small Thai man throws the black flats I asked for at me and is yelling at me to pay up and get away from his stall. I can’t say I blame him. Giant, naked white man showing up and getting dressed in the middle of the street can’t be good for business.
Then again, I can see the crowd I have amassed around me.
My feet are thanking me for some coverage, and my phone is ringing again.
“What do you want from me now, Sams?”
I’m expecting to get some wise ass remark from the goddess of the seven seas. Only it isn’t Sam’s voice that yells at me.
“About time you fucking answered, Lock. I’ve been trying to reach you all fucking morning.”
It’s Eggsy.
And yeah, mate is righteously pissed.
“What the fuck did you do with my Sammi-poo last night?”
More like, what didn’t I do?
I want to say it, but I don’t.
I want to tell him that she isn’t his ‘Sammi-poo’ anymore, either. I want to tell him that she’s mine. That’s she’s my wife.
As much as it would put him in his fucking place, I just don’t have the heart to do it.
“Look, Eggs. Last night was pretty fucked up mate. But you need to seriously calm down.”
“Calm down? You want me to calm down? Who the fuck do you think you are, Lock?”
“I know exactly who I’m talking to, Eggsy. And if you don’t calm the fuck down, I’m going to remind you of who it is you’re talking to.”
“Oh, I know who I’m talking to. I’m talking so some punk who thinks he can up and steal my girl. You better not have fucking touched her last night. I swear to God, Lock.”
The other problem with Eggsy is that he likes to get overly ballsy when he knows that he can’t get clocked in the face for his words. He has this telephone tough guy act that makes him think he’s bigger than he is.
Normally, I’m chill and can brush this shit off my shoulder like it’s nothing. It’s Eggsy. He’s harmless. All bark and no bite.
But today is just a really bad fucking day—and it’s not even noon yet—so I really do not have the patience right now to be dealing with his bullshit.
“Eggsy, you had best watch your tone before it gets you into trouble.”
“Oh, yeah, Lock? And what the fuck are you gonna do, huh?”
“I’m gonna bust your teeth down you fucking throat when I see you is what.”
I would like to say that I’m just bluffing. I’m not.
And Eggsy fucking knows it.
“Alright. Let’s just chill out. No need for things to get violent between us. We go too far back for that.” Classic Eggsy right there. “Look, Lock. I just need to know where Sammi is. I need to see her and talk to her. Things are getting more than a bit crazy around here.”
The way his voice changes has me a bit concerned. Eggsy isn’t talking like a dog with his tail between his legs. He’s talking with genuine concern.
“What the fuck is going on, Eggsy?”
I’m really hoping that it’s just him being melodramatic right now.
“Look, whatever the fuck happened last night has got the city talking.”
“Well, it was a wild time, mate.”
“Yeah, but your wild time has the Thai mafia asking around for her, too. I’m not the only one who’s trying to track her down right now, Lock.”
Oh, fuck me sideways.
Up until now, I was pretty sure that I would be able to salvage the day.
I got clothes.
I got a replacement phone.
I’m married to the woman of my dreams, even if she doesn’t remember.
All I really needed to do was help her remember everything and then we could set sail to the calm open waters of matrimony and incredible fucking sex.
Now I have to save her perfectly shaped ass from the fucking mafia.
I won’t lie. We—or rather she—had it coming after last night. But I thought for sure that we’d be able to get out of the city long before any of this would come up.
“Don�
��t worry, Eggsy. I got this covered.”
“What do you mean you—”
I hang up on Eggsy.
There is no fucking way that Sammi and her friends would be that stupid to go all the way back to that gambling den.
There’s a sharp pain in my ass.
I nearly jump out of my flats, and I turn around to see what the fuck happened.
This tiny lady with a wooden cane is looking at me like she wants to eat me with curry and rice noodles. She’s smiling like she just witnessed the rising of Jesus.
“Can I help you?”
The woman pulls a twenty baht sheet from her purse and sticks it into the waist of my MC Hammer pants.
“You have an ass like that cute Thor actor.”
She’s giggling and walking away; leaving me standing here with a dumbfounded look on my face.
I pull the green slip of paper from my waistband and put it in my pocket.
I look over my shoulder and twist my body so that I can see my ass in these pants.
Pffft. I’m totally hotter than Chris Hemsworth.
And my ass is definitely better.
But I don’t really have time to stand around and admire my figure.
As much as I want to believe that Sammi and her people aren’t that stupid—and I really want to believe it—I know that they are. There is no way that they aren’t going back there.
I hand over what I owe for the clothes.
He smiles and tells me to get lost.
A true salesman if I’ve ever met one.
I need to find the nearest tuk tuk so I can get back to that gambling den before Sammi and her people do. There’s no telling what the mafia will fucking do to her if I don’t get there first.
Chapter 15
Sammi
1:04 PM SATURDAY
Picture the absolute craziest and most dangerous city on Earth. Got it? Okay, now picture the craziest and most dangerous neighborhood in that city. Fucked up right?
That’s where this burger joint looks like it belongs.
If a fast food building could be addicted to meth, this would be that building.
I really don’t want to be here.
But I really need to know what really happened.
I really need to know if I married Lock.
You know, since he is being a complete jackass and not telling me.
We’ve decided to let Liam take the lead for this. For whatever reason, he seems to be an expert on the Thai mafia and the underground gambling scene of Bangkok.
Part of me is afraid of how and why he knows all this. Because—let’s be real here—this is some heavy shit.
Yet, it certainly has earned Liam a newfound measure of respect. That wasn’t to say I didn’t respect him before, of course—he is one of the gang, after all—but like I said, this is some heavy shit.
I’m holding onto Percy’s hand, and I’m relieved that she is squeezing mine just as tightly as I’m squeezing hers.
Mysti is too far off into her own world over being cursed.
And Becky is just too damn relaxed and calm for my liking.
Liam is making an order at the counter that doesn’t sound like anything on the menu behind the cashier at all.
Hell, the cashier doesn’t even look like he works here. Instead of wearing some kind of uniform, the short Thai man is dressed in skinny jeans, a half tucked in t-shirt, and a couple gold chains. Mix that in with his greasy-looking, combed-back hair and patches of facial hair, and he looks more like he should be an extra in a Lil Wayne video.
“For all of us.” Now, Liam is speaking in words I can understand.
The gangster cashier is giving us all a once-over. His eyes zero in on my tits, and he’s licking his lips like I’m a KFC bucket of original recipe.
My pussy dries up faster than the fucking Sahara Desert, and I resist the urge to vomit.
He gives Liam a thumbs-up and waves his hands for us to follow him behind the counter.
“Is this where they chop us up and sell our parts on the black market?”
I want to think Percy’s question is more of a rhetorical one, but it’s not.
“We’ll be okay, Percy. Liam knows these people and how they work. He wouldn’t have brought us here to get killed.”
“I don’t know what you two are worried about. I’m the one who’s cursed for fuck sakes.” Mysti huffs and puffs like a wolf trying to blow down the house of a pig.
Our host opens up a large freezer door that turns out to be a flight of stairs rather than a walk-in freezer.
“Hey, baby.” The cashier leers at me as we pass him by. “Want to play a game of strip poker later? One-on-one? I promise you a good time.” He sounds like he’s watched Shaft one too many times.
I throw up a little in my mouth. It’s disgusting, and I really want to just let it out all over his face.
I force myself to swallow it back down instead.
“Uh, no, thank you. I mean, I’d love to, but my friends and I are…busy, and we just don’t have the time. But next time I come by, I’m totally all yours.”
He buys it. How or why, I have no fucking clue. Nor do I care.
But he finally stops looking at my tits and walks away. That’s good enough for me.
At this point, I’d like to say that this is all Lock’s fault. All of it.
Couldn’t just answer my questions could you Lock? No, you had to be a smartass. ‘Oh, you’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.’
Fucking asshole.
So here I am, walking down these stairs behind Liam, Becky, and Mysti, expecting to see this smoky, seedy, smelly, and outright trashy den filled with old Thai men missing teeth.
Boy, was I fucking wrong.
This underground gambling den is swanky and ritzy like a five-star resort.
I almost feel as though I stepped through some magic portal that took me straight from Bangkok to Vegas.
There are slot machines with little golden cat statues on top of them. Blackjack tables with dealers who look like they have actually worked in Vegas or in Atlantic City. There’s a handful of poker tables that seem really familiar.
And I mean really familiar.
They’ve got craps tables. Roulette tables.
They have everything to rival any hotel casino I’ve ever seen.
There are even waitresses walking around in tiny, sexy outfits that leave nothing to the imagination, the girls looking like they came from the Thailand version of Playboy.
And the bar?
It looks like the fucking Pearly Gates right now.
Now I’m getting flashbacks from the Vegas adventure.
“Ooohhhh, babe. Let’s go play slots.” Becky’s eyes look as though they are going to pop out of her head. That is, if her smile doesn’t completely consume her face first.
And Liam is looking just as excited as she is. “You know I’m good for some slots.”
The two of them don’t even wave goodbye or turn around to tell me that they’re going. They just run off like two kids in a candy store.
So much for them of being of any further use.
“Look how amazing this place is. And can I take advantage of any of this? No, because I’m fucking cursed.”
And here we go.
“I bet I could go sit down at that poker table right now and get the best hand ever and still lose,” Mysti whines. “Why? Because I’m cursed. I’d likely have to fork over my kidney or liver just to cover how big my loss would be.”
I’ll admit. I’m really wishing murder wasn’t a crime in Bangkok right now.
“Well, what if you watch Liam and Becky play? Maybe your curse will rub off on them and then they’ll be stuck with it?”
“That’s not how curses work, Sammi.” She stomps her foot and is crossing her arms over her chest like she’s twelve. “But I’m gonna go try anyway.”
Well, that officially makes Mysti a problem for Liam and Becky now.
“Alright, Sammi, time to use t
hat giant, beautiful brain of yours, girl.” Percy has gone into pep talk mode now.
I swear, she’s a better hype man than Flava Flav.
“You remembered everything back at the cabaret, and you can remember everything here. You got this. You are a beast. A savage. A take-no-prisoners woman.”
I nod. I want to remember.
But I fucking can’t.
“I’m drawing a blank.” I grimace.
“Well, lets get a drink at the bar. Maybe some booze will jump start that brain of yours.”
I consider. I doubt that booze is going to solve the problem, but a drink does sound pretty fucking amazing right now.
As long as it isn’t tequila.
“Can we get two beers please for my friend and I?” Percy is quick to take a seat at the bar. “But for reals, Sammi. What kind of kinky fuckery did you guys get into here last night?”
“I really have no fucking idea, Percy. I don’t.”
I wish I did. God, do I wish I did.
“Hey! You! You’ve got some massive balls to show up here again after last night,” echoes an angry voice from behind me.
Two things right now:
One, I have no sweet clue who it is that’s yelling.
Two: I’m really wishing that whoever this person is yelling at isn’t me.
I’ll tell you, I’ve had a lot of moments happen in my life that would make you shit yourself.
I’ve had a thirteen-foot great white shark break through my steel diving cage and nearly take my arm.
I’ve been in the middle of a bull shark feeding frenzy in just a diving suit.
Hell, I’ve been in an inflatable raft while it was getting attacked by a tiger shark.
None of those compare to the feeling of a cold steel barrel at the back of your head.
I hear the hammer click when the person behind me pulls it down.
From the corner of my eye, I can see Percy frozen in fear.
We are both seriously out of our fucking depth here.
“How dare you fucking return after your insults?”
Insults? What the fuck is he talking about?
Of all the fucking times to remember what happened, now is not that time.
My brain apparently has other plans.
But at least now I remember.
Shit! Now I remember!
The Marriage Mistake_A Billionaire Hangover Romance Page 9