Ruin Me: Vegas Knights

by Bella Love-Wins

  What a prick!

  I tripped and he caught me in his arms. I had half a moment of relief that I hadn’t fallen, but it was followed by moments of panic that edged into fear as he steadied me against his body, then backed me up against the door.

  “I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you.”

  25

  Mac

  Rage and jealousy blistered through me when I saw Angel walking toward her apartment with another man.

  I couldn’t hear anything they were saying for a while, but that was because I was waiting inside her place.

  I let myself in.

  The technical term for it was that I’d broken in, but after two days of cooling my heels, waiting for her to show up, trespassing was a minor detail.

  Semantics.

  And now she was here with him?

  No. I wasn’t just going to shrink away into the shadows, or wait for her to finish her conversation and get inside, or hope we hooked up.

  I was here to take action.

  To take control.

  Sure, it was possible she’d come back home for a few minutes just to take off again. She had a life when I wasn’t around. Still, I wanted to see her the first chance I got. It was to the point of obsession, but now as I watched her walking closer to the house, I wondered for a split second if maybe I should’ve waited back at the hotel.

  I could’ve left a message at the school. The woman I’d talked to was nosy enough. If I worded the message right, she would’ve been sure to pass it on to Angel immediately. After all, she told me, a complete stranger, that Angel was off on a bus tour with her teacher colleagues. She told me everything, and I hadn’t given her my name or anything that could justify sharing all these details. The ruins, the cenote they were visiting, the time they were expected back. If I were a predator or thief, I could do serious damage because of the loose-lipped woman.

  If I’d been smart at all, I would’ve left Angel a message, then gone to the hotel instead of coming back here to wait.

  I wouldn’t have seen that schmuck staring after her as if he couldn’t wait to put his paws all over her.

  The frustration and nerves I’d burned off in the fight with the idiots who’d jumped me had returned full force. Now, watching that asshole stride along at her side, carrying her bag while she cradled her belly, I was practically foaming at the mouth. Who in the hell was this fucker? I wanted to think he was a taxi driver, but I knew their look. He wasn’t the type. He was practically jogging at her heels to keep up.

  I’d flown down here, for this? The anger burned a little hotter.

  She turned up the walkway that led to her little place and I moved toward the door, just barely able to hear the murmur of their voices now.

  Her voice raised and for a moment, concern flickered.

  My anger turned to blind rage the second I opened the door and saw that piece of shit with his hands on her.

  I might’ve reacted more appropriately if I’d taken two seconds to process the situation. Like her stance, the way her hands were on him, pushing him away from her. And the expression on her face, which went from rage to relief, to surprise, then to outrage when she realized it was me.

  But I was too busy telling myself I had to get that bastard away from her without hurting the baby. I’d maim this asshole for daring to touch her, but Angel and the baby needed to be out of harm’s way first.

  He still hadn’t acknowledged me, although Angel’s hands had gone slack at the sight of me.

  Shooting out a hand, I grabbed the back of his neck and jerked him away from her. He squawked, finally taking notice of the big mistake he’d made.

  “You touched what’s mine, asshole. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you keep the use of your arms.” I shouted. Then I shoved him up against the wall, stepping over her bag on the ground and moving him well out of Angel’s way.

  Her eyes widened, still looking dazed as she stepped inside her apartment. But she came around, eyes drilling into me.

  I should’ve paid closer attention to her. To what I said next.

  But I didn’t.

  Because I was well into idiot mode. I picked up her bag and slammed the door shut behind me.

  “Who the fuck was that?” I demanded. I didn’t wait for her to answer before firing off another question. “Isn’t it bad enough you got me floundering around like you’ve got a hook in my mouth? You have another guy on the side?”

  The color drained from her face. Her mouth fell open. She closed it, then opened it, like she was struggling to say the right words while I didn’t care what the fuck fell out of mine. Her response didn’t come fast enough to quiet my madness.

  “I flew down here to see you, and not only are you not here, but when you finally do show up, you’ve got some dickhead hanging all over you?”

  I started to pace.

  She still hadn’t spoken.

  From the corner of my eye, I got glimpses of her face. She was no longer pale. It wasn’t its normal peaches and cream tone. There was color. Flags of red rode her cheeks as she studied me, her lips pursed. She caught sight of me watching her and lifted a brow.

  “Are you done yet?” she asked coolly.

  “I don’t fucking know,” I fired back. “Are you going to tell me who the hell that was?”

  I flung an arm up toward the door.

  The heels of my boots rang hollowly on the wooden planks of the floor and I made myself stop at the far edge of the room, staring out the narrow window into a small garden out back. Her footsteps sounded behind me.

  “What was the deal there, Angel?” I ground out.

  “You know what? I’m not going to talk about it until you calm down. You don’t get to practically ignore me for two weeks, then storm in here...however the hell you got into my home...then make demands, Mac. It doesn’t work that way. Maybe that’s how relationships work for you, but you’re dead wrong if you think I’ll accept that.”

  I spun around, glaring at her. “We’re not in a relationship. We like fucking each other. And yeah, we’re having a baby, but that doesn’t mean you and I are involved.”

  She sucked in a breath.

  At the same time, I wanted to take the words back.

  Of course, we were in a relationship. That was part of the problem. That was the fact that put the holy terror in me. And I went and said the exact opposite of the facts.

  “We’re not involved, eh?” she said, her voice biting. She took a step toward me. Her pretty eyes, usually so soft and sweet, glinted as hard and sharp as shards of broken glass. “We’re just fucking. So why are you here right now? To fuck me?”

  She jabbed me in the chest with a fingernail painted the color of strawberries. The anger in her voice was enough to knock me over.

  I decided not to say more. I’d done more than enough damage.

  But Angel didn’t want silence from me. “Are you going to give me an answer, you arrogant, insensitive jerk?”

  I was debating an answer as I ran my tongue along my teeth. “I wanted to see you.”

  “Well, you saw me.” She shoved me hard, and it knocked me back a step, to my surprise.

  I hated myself a little more because it wasn’t just anger that had brought this on. I’d hurt her in a bad way.

  “Angel, look…”

  “Let’s get this over with.” She bent over and grabbed the hem of her dress. A split second later, she stood in front of me wearing nothing but a pair of boots that went up to her knees, sky blue panties, and a matching bra that barely managed to contain the fullness of her breasts. “Since seeing me probably involves fucking me, let’s get that done too. I’m tired and I want a nap.”

  She made her point.

  The urge to kick my own ass strengthened even as blood drained out of my head to pool in my groin. My cock didn’t fucking care that this was a bad idea.

  I clenched my teeth. You’re not doing this, Mac.

  She came toward me, rising up onto her toes and shoving h
er hands into my hair. “What are you waiting for?” she demanded as she pressed her mouth to mine. “This is why you’re here, isn’t it?”

  I caught her waist. Against my palms, I felt the swell of her belly, the hard fullness of it, and the regret inside me grew even more.

  “Angel, we need to talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk,” she said.

  She bit my lip and curled her arms around my neck, pressing her body to mine. Her breasts flattened against me, the lace of her bra scratchy against my hands—

  Shit.

  One second I was holding her waist, the next I had my hands on her tits.

  “Stop it.” I grabbed her arms, easing her away from me. “I get the point.”

  She blinked those big blue eyes at me, feigning confusion. “Stop what? Giving you what you want?” She shrugged. Twisting easily out of the loose grip I had on her arms, she added, “If you don’t want me, fine. But if we’re not fucking, you need to leave. Like I said, I’m tired.”

  Her voice was strained and tight. Each word was delivered with such hard, cool bluntness, it made me want to flinch.

  “I’m not leaving,” I bit off. “We need to talk.”

  She stared at me, her arms hanging loosely at her sides, undisturbed by the fact that she stood there wearing nothing but the sexiest bits of lingerie and a pair of boots, undisturbed by the fact that I was falling apart inside because I’d hurt her so badly.

  “You can’t even say it,” she said calmly, shaking her head.

  “Say what?”

  Instead of answering, she turned on her heels and walked out of the room. A moment later, she returned, her boots gone, wearing an oversized button-down shirt. Her fingers flew over the buttons, fastening them one by one.

  “Let me help you,” she said calmly. “You seem to have trouble addressing the fact that we do have a relationship. I don’t know if you just don’t want one, or if it scares the hell out of you or what. You know why? Because you never talked to me. And now you want to talk?”

  She finished the last button and reached up, grabbing the heavy weight of her hair and tugging it free from her collar. As she let it go, all that golden silk fell down to frame her shoulders. I wanted to grab it, bury my face in it. I wanted to grab her and turn back the clock about ten minutes. No, more than ten. I could’ve waited outside her fucking house. It wouldn’t have killed me to wait.

  “You’re afraid,” she continued, unaware of the turmoil inside me. Or maybe she was.

  That got my attention. My gaze flew up to her eyes. I found that she wasn’t even looking at me now. She was staring at the floor.

  “Angel.”

  “You wanted to talk, Mac,” she said, cutting me off. “I’m talking, so shut the hell up!”

  She jerked her head up, glaring at me. “You’re fucking afraid. Guess what! So am I! I’m pregnant! With your child! A man who doesn’t talk. A man who has a life so full that two weeks have gone by without a minute of conversation. Half the time I’m alone down here. And for two weeks, you’ve ignored me. Before that, when we were together, we didn’t talk about us. Anytime I tried, you sidestepped.”

  She only paused to look back at the door for a second. “It took me months to get you to even acknowledge me after I found out I was pregnant. For the record, all I’ve done is talk. And reached out. And worked my pregnant ass off to get through to you. You’re the one who hasn’t said a thing. Well, guess what? I’m tired of talking to you. I’m just plain tired. And here’s one last thing I’ve got to tell you, then you can get the hell out and take your time to not talk to me while you think things through.”

  She stormed over to me and shoved her hands into my hair.

  When she kissed me, it was with a mix of passion, fury and so much pain. I tried to cup her face, tried to pull her close to me but she broke away quickly. The words I’m sorry already burned on my tongue, but she wouldn’t slow down enough, and I could tell she wasn’t ready to hear them either.

  “You don’t want to be in a relationship, or you’re too scared, or whatever reason you have. Go back to Las Vegas, Mac.” She shoved her tangled hair back from her face, her eyes huge and damp now and I realized she was about ready to cry.

  Oh, fuck. No.

  “Angel, listen to me—”

  “No!” she shouted. “I’ve been waiting to listen for weeks. Months! I don’t want to hear it anymore. I’m in love with you, you son of a bitch. But it’s too late for us.”

  I reeled backward, feeling like she’d just jabbed me with a hot poker. It would’ve been less of a shock if she had.

  In love with me.

  “Yes, dammit. I love you.” The words came out and tears followed. She swiped a hand over one cheek, then the other. “I don’t know when it happened, and I don’t care. But there you go. I’ll figure out how to get over it. You don’t have to worry your brain about it. You were just fucking me. I get it.”

  She raked me up and down with a look, one that was so overly sexual, I felt like she’d stripped me naked. “You’re hotter than hell and I can tell you this honestly, no man has ever made me feel like you have. But I’m not in this for the sex. I can find that anywhere. I’m going to be a mother soon. I have to be strong… for the two of us. What I need is a man who is ready for all it entails, or to be alone so I can raise my child without this…this thing we have…or don’t have. Either you’re that guy, or you’re not. Go take some time and figure it out.”

  Then she pointed to the door. “Until you do, get the hell out of my life.”

  26

  Mac

  Two days had passed.

  It felt like two months with the way I’d left.

  LeVan had to take over my next performance. He warned me that if I tried to go out on stage without smoothing things out with Angel, both he and Sly would beat the shit out of me. It wasn’t an empty threat, and it wasn’t unwarranted. I knew exactly why he’d said it.

  I accidentally almost killed myself during rehearsal earlier. They had to get the staff to break me out of The Box. This particular illusion was a mash-up of the guillotine and being burnt alive—all in a large plexiglass cube large enough to fit me and the apparatus. I damn near turned myself into a headless, well-done piece of meat.

  LeVan and Sly were both looking a little sick when they finished putting the fire out. The equipment would all have to be repaired or replaced, but that was the least of their concern.

  I was a fucking mess.

  Wrapping up for the day, I went to my suite, trashed the place to shit, and called it a night.

  The next morning, as I went through a series of chest presses in my weight room, the sound of the door opening up wasn’t a surprise. LeVan. He was the only person with a key to my suite, other than the one housekeeper who did my turn-down service and cleaning. I wasn’t ready for his lecture, but I probably needed it. Sighing, I sat up on the weight bench, picked up my water bottle, and waited.

  LeVan sat on the adjustable incline bench next to me. He could say whatever the fuck he wanted to, as long as he got out of my face when he was done. Seeing Sly come down the hallway after a second and sit cross-legged on the floor wasn’t much of a shock either.

  The tag team intervention approach.

  Okay. I’d almost put myself six feet under during yesterday’s rehearsal, so whatever.

  “You ready to listen?” LeVan asked.

  “Go ahead. I don’t plan on talking about it,” I said stiffly. But then I shot Sly a dark look and that plan went out the window. “You’ll probably be pretty fucking happy to know that it’s over. I went to see her in Mexico and she sent me packing. Kicked me out. End of story.”

  For once, Sly said nothing.

  LeVan reached over and rested a hand on my shoulder without getting up. I was tempted to punch it off, but I just stared into the ruin I’d made of my suite last night.

  “I’m sorry,” LeVan said, and he meant it. “What happened?”

  “It’s ove
r. She doesn’t want me anywhere near her or my kid.”

  In Angel’s opinion, I needed to figure out if I was that guy or not.

  There was no need to do any figuring out.

  Because I wasn’t.

  I’d never been that guy.

  Nor could I ever be.

  I was so fucking tainted it was almost laughable.

  “What’s really going on, Mac?” LeVan probed.

  “Did you have your head up your ass for the last two minutes?” I asked. “I just told you what went down.”

  I felt so scraped out, so empty and hollow inside. No point doing a minute-by-minute breakdown for him or Sly.

  “The fact that you damn near killed yourself in rehearsal yesterday is a pretty good indication that the shit hit the fan,” Sly said bluntly.

  LeVan nodded in agreement. “Dude, you didn’t even put up a fight when I told you I’d take over your performance. You’re walking around like a broken teenager. That’s the shit that makes me think there’s more to it.”

  Glaring at him, I got up. I wasn’t in the mood to get into the part where she said she was in love with me.

  “Look, she’s better off without me, all right?”

  “Bullshit.” LeVan eyed me. Fuck, every second with him reading me like a damned open book made talking more and more futile. “She left things open, didn’t she? I can’t see her kicking you out without leaving an opening. The woman’s got it bad for you.”

  I met his mind-reading eyes. Those soft, muted gold pools I could never fool, even when I was lying through my teeth.

  “She can’t love me. Why should she?” I lied just to make him work for it, and started pacing.

  “Park this unlovable crap for a minute. Why did she ask you to leave?”

  “Stop trying to fucking psychoanalyze me. I don’t want you using your mind-games to poke around in my head.”

  “Fine, I’ll do it.” Sly got to his feet and put his hands on his hips, watching me pace. “I can count on one hand the number of times over the last umpteen years that I’ve seen you too distracted to work, and I’d still have a few fingers left over. Pretty sure that fucked-up old man of yours ain’t been showing his face on TV the past few days. That leaves Angel. Why can’t you just make up your fucking mind? Be with her. Don’t be with her. But don’t go back and forth like a damn fool. Not when the woman fucking worships the ground you walk on.”