Page 83 of Bad Blood
My phone is ringing againby the time I make my way back down to the Platinum Bar an hour later. RJ already has a full glass ofAñejotequila waiting for me. For the first time, I stare at my poison of choice with mixed emotion.
I need a drink. This day is starting to warrant many of them. However, I’ve just sampled a much more powerful vice, and now the familiar, soothing burn has competition.
I roll my neck, my tight muscles stiffening in protest. While taking that first sip may ease the knots created by Grayson’s counterattack and Monroe’s pathetic bullshit, it will also erase the taste of her. And right now, the sweet essence of my wife’s lust is the only thing keeping Marco Bardi’s skull in one piece.
I reach into my pocket to silence its incessant ringing before unbuttoning my jacket and sliding onto the barstool. With one sideways glance, the bartenders scatter, busying themselves with mopping up invisible spills at the other end of the counter.
Luckily, thatpendejo, Andrew, is nowhere to be found. Thalia’s warning filters through my head…Hire him back, my ass… He’s lucky he still has hands to lift his dick to take a piss, much less pour drinks in my casino.
After what just happened upstairs, the stakes are even higher. Thalia isn’t just a pawn anymore. My hunger for her is tipping the scales in the wrong direction.
I wanted to own the world.
Now, she’s flipping it upside down.
I’ve never walked away from pussy so many times without fucking it. Yet here we are again—the virgin and the villain—charging the same lust-laded battlefield. Advance and retreat. Attack and surrender. We’re crossing two territories filled with hidden landmines, and eventually, one of them is going to explode.
I’m going to need that drink, after all…
“Gracias,” I mutter, downing half of the glass before taking a breath.
RJ places his half-empty whiskey on the counter next to it. “Rough day with the missus?”
Rough and brutally delicious.An image of Thalia lying on her back, legs spread, and neck arched in ecstasy invades my thoughts, and my cock swells again with the need to possess her.All of her.
Her inexperience drew me in, but it’s her vulnerability that keeps me interested.
I pause, the tequila halfway to my mouth, and flick him a hard stare. “Keep that shit up, and I’ll be sending your nuts back to Houston in a Ziploc.”
He laughs, the sound grating on my last nerve.
“What did our friend Bardi have to say about thegiftGrayson left on our dock?”
“Haven’t asked him yet. I figured you’d want to do the honors.”
My cousin knows me too well. After having my port turned into a crime scene and watching my sister stage a mutiny, there’s nothing I want more than to beat a confession out of that Italian motherfucker.
“Well, at least we know he wasn’t responsible,” I offer, settling back onto the barstool with exaggerated casualness. “He’s a little tied up at the moment.”
The joke goes over about as well as the bartender’s did earlier.
“Speaking of which,” says RJ. “If you’re done using his phone to catfish your wife, hand it over. I’ll have one of our hackers see if they can pull anything off it.”
“Already done. Nothing but bootleg porn and dick pics.”
He’s reaching for more whiskey when his phone starts ringing. It’s quickly followed by mine—again.
There’s a hard set to his jaw as he slides his phone from his pocket and notices I’m not doing the same. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”
“Nope.”
“Harcourt,” he answers.
A tap of my empty glass on the bar sends the bartenders scattering once again. Within seconds, a new drink is placed in front of me, all wrapped up with an invisible bow.
“What do you mean?” A sharp note in RJ’s voice catches my attention. I glance over to find him gripping his phone so hard, I’m surprised it hasn’t turned to dust. “Well fucking find him, you stupidpinche cabrón!”
“Tell me.” It's all I can do to force out the command through clenched teeth.
