Page 8 of Menace in Vegas

And it’s working. I’m losing my goddamn mind.

Harper says something, and Allie laughs, tossing her hair over her shoulder. It’s like watching someone dance on my grave.

I narrow my eyes.

That’s when her tongue flicks out to wet her lips.

My brain short-circuits.

I drag a hand down my face, gripping the back of my neck. I need to get out of here.Now.

If I don’t, I’m going to grab her, slam her against the nearest wall, and remind her exactly what the fuck she started last night.

* * *

I’mbehind Gram in the long line. Irritation courses through me like a damn buzz saw. I used to be Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky until Allie ruined my life.

I’m jerked back to the present by the chaos in front of me.

"Ma’am, what’s in the flask?" A TSA agent asks.

Gram doesn’t blink. "The good stuff."

The TSA agent looks exhausted already. "I’m going to need you to be more specific."

She sighs. "Fine. Tequila. And maybe a splash of holy water."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "For fuck’s sake."

The TSA agent freezes. "Why… holy water?"

Gram shrugs. "You ever met my grandson? Kidnapped his wife and everything. Just a little precaution."

Ford Brooks glares at her.

Harper Brooks cackles.

Jake Monroe and Cole Kingston are fucking wheezing.

Allie smirks like this is all a big joke.

My jaw clenches while my eyes narrow on her.Allie’s enjoying this. My suffering is her life’s mission.

Meanwhile, TSA is now bringing in backup.

This can’t be happening.

* * *

I’ve never been so goddamnirritated in my life! Things can’t possibly get any wors?—

"Final boarding call for Flight 257 to Las Vegas, departing from Gate B12."

My entire body locks up.

Allie looks over at me over the rim of her cup, still sipping her damn coffee. Calm, cool, and collected.

I whip around, grabbing her wrist. "That’s our fucking flight."

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