Page 44 of Devious Eyes
I step forward, true intent to cause damage pushing into the hand that’s still planted firmly on my chest.
“Be careful, Nate. That fucking safety you’re after is precariously balanced when a woman’s involved. Especially one who looks like that.”
My eyes swing back to him, hatred and jealousy hoping to hell he isn’t looking at anything she has on show. He chuckles again and turns his dice in his palm, eyes steady with mine. “You need to calm down, brother, before you do something fucking stupid.”
He’s right. I do.
I’m not listening, though.
* * *
“You calm?” Quinn asks, his body swivelling on the stools of our private bar.
I pick up my drink, unsure if calm is a feeling I’m going to manage at all.
He pulled me away from her before I could get one word through my mouth, brought me up here. I’d stormed over regardless of his warning, fists coming out of my pockets ready to fuck Marco’s face up halfway to next week, only to have my brother lead me away from the tirade of abuse I wanted to hurl before I got the chance. “The hell do you care?” I snap out.
He fucking pinched the back of my neck like a fourteen-year-old and took me away from the havoc I was about to let loose. Dick. Sensible for him, but what a dick.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I glare into my drink some more and then stare back out the window to the casino, wondering why they’ve gone off to one of the back rooms. She stared at me as if I was nothing, barely acknowledging me as even alive. I waited for something to come from her, anything to give me something to cling onto, but she was so fucking cold. She stood like a block of ice as she gazed at me, a slight smile on her face. It wasn’t directed at me, though. It was like she didn’t even know me, or certainly wasn’t prepared to admit it.
“I need to fuck.”
Quinn doesn’t answer my muttering, not that it’s a damn question anyway, more a statement of fact. I do. I need to go do what I originally planned. She clearly doesn’t care, nor can she even be bothered to acknowledge me. Maybe she is a bitch. Either way, I’m not having this ache in my chest interfere with business any longer. Quinn’s right. He needs me back.Ifucking need me back. All this shit about dreaming needs to be left where it was—Bora Bora. It’s over now. Done. “I want her gone from here before I’m done, Quinn. Get her out of my fucking sight.”
I stand and light a smoke, then down the rest of my scotch and grab the bottle. I leave without another word, door slamming in my wake. Screw it.
The room spins slightly as I edge around it, barging anyone out of my way who dares get in it, and I finally end up exactly where I began—outside the door to where Jenna and Loretta are waiting for me. Whores. But then maybe they all are. Perhaps Quinn’s been right all these years. It’s easiest this way, isn’t it? No feelings involved. No commitment, no need to protect something. I should just keep using pussy until it runs dry, fuck it up with some new twisted ideas that come from the depths of me.
I nod at one of the security team, letting him know we’re not to be disturbed. This is going to take as long as it damn well takes, and he can stand fucking guard while I do what needs doing to get my head straight again.
