Undeniable (Undeniable, #1)(27)

Fucking shit. She was running her mouth again, and he was getting pissed.

“Woman, if you think I’m gonna let you walk outta here, you’re f*ckin’ crazy. You showed up outta nowhere ’cause you f*ckin’ wanted me, so you f*ckin’ got me. And I’m gonna tell you straight up that a few f*ckin’ days of you hasn’t been enough. So you reel that f*ckin’ attitude in ’cause you’re f*ckin’ stayin’!”

Her face wiped clean, no expression whatsoever. “Get the f*ck away from me,” she said evenly. “Now.”

He curled his hands into fists. “Eva,” he growled. “Stop it.”

She rolled to her side, facing away from him.

Stiffly, he got off the bed and stalked to the door. He shot one last look at her. She was staring off to the side at nothing.

? ? ?

I woke up in darkness as the bed dipped, and Deuce slid in beside me. Instead of curling up next to me, he stayed on the opposite side of the bed. I couldn’t let it end like this. Not with him. My stomach was sore, but nothing like my face and nothing I couldn’t handle, so I rolled over and crawled on top of him.

“Hey,” I whispered.

His arms wrapped around me. “You still mad, darlin’?”

Instead of answering, I kissed him. When I pulled away, we were both breathing heavily.

I rubbed my lips across his and whispered, “You want it hard, or you want it slow?”

“Babe,” he said thickly. “I want it f*ckin’ slow.”

So I gave it to him slow.

? ? ?

He woke up alone.

Deuce rolled over and hit air. He patted around for a moment looking for Eva and came up empty. He clicked on his bedside lamp. No Eva. No iPod on his nightstand. No Chucks by the door. No backpack on the floor. His stomach clenched.

Pulling on a pair of jeans, he headed straight for Cox’s room and kicked open the door. Ripper was snoring loudly, his long body draped over an armchair. Cox, lying belly-down in bed, jerked his head up.

“Prez?”

He scanned the room. No Kami.

The vice around his chest went painfully tight.

“Where’s your f*ckin’ bitch?”

Cox looked right, then left. “Shit,” he muttered. “I thought I heard something earlier. Figured she was f*ckin’ Ripper again. Fuckin’ hell. I was gonna ask her to marry me.”

“You’re already married, shithead. This ain’t f*ckin’ Utah.” He slammed the door shut and took off down the hall.

He found Blue sitting alone at the bar in the dark. Seventy-two years old, two-pack-a-day smoker, and a raging alcoholic, yet healthy as a twenty-year-old.

“Eva?” he asked.

Blue swallowed down a shot of Patrón. “Gone.”

His chest went so f*cking tight he had to slap his palm over his heart and rub before he could breathe again.

“When?”

Blue poured, and then threw back another shot. “’Bout two hours ago.”

Fuck.

FUCK.

“Sorry, Prez, I woulda woken you up, told you what she was doin’, but she was cryin’ her f*ckin’ eyes out. Hysterical. Beggin’ me to open the gate. Beggin’ me not to wake you up. Can’t deal with hysterical women myself. Makes me want to drink.”

“Right,” he said numbly.

“Left you this.” Blue held out his hand.

He took the small, folded piece of paper and opened it.

Deuce,

I’m sorry.

I shouldn’t have come and imposed on your life.

<3, Eva P.S. Take care of yourself.

“Prez?”

“What?”

“She’s a good girl,” Blue said. “Sweet, too. Knows her way ’round a club, took two f*ckin’ fists for it. Fuckin’ adores you, too. Woulda thought you were the king of f*ckin’ England the way she looks at you, and she’s good to the boys, not givin’ ’em shit ’bout the girls, bringin’ them beers, talkin’ and jokin’ with ’em, makin’ friends with Jase’s piece of ass. Didn’t much like Miranda…”

Blue tossed back another shot and chuckled.

“But I don’t much blame her. I were you, I woulda done everything I coulda to keep a girl like that in my bed.”

What else could he have done short of tying her to the bed or drugging her?

“Yeah,” Deuce muttered. “Too late now.”

His hand fisted around the note, crushing it.

“Pour me one of those,” he muttered, taking a seat beside Blue.

Fuck Eva Fox and her perfect face and her perfect tits. He had a life to get back to.

? ? ?

So he got back to it.

For three long years, he lived his f*cking life.

His miserable f*cking life.

And then he saw her again.

And miserable got a f*ck of a lot worse.





CHAPTER EIGHT


Groaning, Frankie collapsed on top of me.

“Off,” I demanded, pushing at him. “I can’t breathe.”

He lifted his head, grinning. “Like you where you are, babe. Fuckin’ naked and underneath me.”

Frankie was insatiable. I almost wished he would start whoring around at the club and give me a break.