He thinks this is a fucking joke. Too bad for him, I don’t find it at all funny. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t stand here and profess your feelings to me, and then turn around and hit on another woman.”
“That wouldn’t happen. You’re the only one I want to hit on.”
“Well,Violetisn’t helping you convince me.” This is what I was afraid of from the start. We aren’t even together, and we’re already fighting about his duplicitous ways.
“Violetdoes not mean a damn thing. I forgot all about her five minutes after she left!”
“That doesn’t make it okay. It doesn't make it an excuse.”
“I’m not making excuses, Liv. I know who I am. I know who I am with you, and I know who I am without you. What I’m telling you is that I want to be the person I am when I’m with you. And that means all of me with all of you. I don’t know how else to explain it.Violetwas a fluke.”
“I wish I could believe you, Damon, but I don’t.” And Lord, that hurts so much to say.
“Fine.” Damon’s finally had enough. He grabs his cut and T-shirt from the chair and scoops up his shoes off the floor. “Friends it fucking is, then.” He’s none too happy about that.
I’m not exactly thrilled about it either, but I’m just not willing to take that leap of faith. No matter how tempting it is.
I watch Damon leave the room exactly the way he said he hated, pissed off and upset. The last twenty-four hours have come full circle.
One thing is definitely still resonating, though.“I may not have many tomorrows left. And the only thing I’m sure of is that I want to spend every tomorrow I can get with you.”
The thought of Damon’s life being cut short is a heavy burden to bear. It puts me in an awkward place and my emotions in a liquidizer. As if they weren’t already pulverized to begin with.
I sit down on the bed, utterly exhausted. The days just seem to be getting longer and harder no matter how much I try to look for a silver lining.
I curl up into a ball and close my eyes, desperate for sleep. I pray I don't dream of Damon, but I already know it’s a plea that will go unanswered, because as soon as I begin to drift off, I see his face.
I feel his warmth.
And then I run straight into his arms.
13
Damon
Another forty-eight hours flies by.
I haven't seen much of Liv, and maybe that’s for the best.
Our last encounter left a lot to be desired. I think my fantasy of us being together is really just that, a fantasy. I’ve never had such an issue getting a woman to fall for me, but I should have known Liv would be different. It’s the whole reason I love her. She isn’t a pushover, or weak, or easy. She makes you work for it. She’s always been strong like that. No one ever pushed her around. Not her sisters, or the tough guys we grew up with, or even me. I’ll never forget that punch she threw at the prom. It was a thing of pure beauty. It made me want to call her mine all the more. But that doesn’t look like it’s going to happen.
Like, ever.
I’ve thrown myself into my “work,” hustling my ass off to win the money I desperately need to stay alive.
We’re all packed into Ky and Kira’s penthouse suite. And when I use the word packed, I mean it. The place is comfortable enough for two people, tops. The definition of “suite” must be different in “old” Las Vegas. The lot of us — Hawk, Fender, Tempest, Gambit, Knuckles, and I — crowd around the glossy wet bar as Ky tallies our latest earnings and provides us with the grand total. Sixty-thousand-three-hundred-seventy-six dollars. Roughly forty-thousand dollars away from freedom, with four-and-a-half days left. I won’t front. I’m a walking ball of raw nerve endings, but I know we can pull this off. All six of us gambling around the clock, and Gambit’s mad poker skills are going to get us there. I have to believe that. Or I might just fall apart.
I’ve barely eaten, barely slept, and I’ve been drinking like a fish just to make it through the long ass days and marathon nights.
Ninety-nine bottles of beer get passed around the room as Ky places the cash in a small leather duffle bag and locks it up in the safe.
Standing next to Knuckles, I take a swig of tangy liquid and then look up at the behemoth of a man. We’re roommates once again, but I have been avoiding the room when he sleeps just so I don’t get sucked down his throat along with the curtains and hotel furniture.
He’s been like a prickly thorn in my ass the whole time. Constantly hovering just far enough away to annoy the fuck out of me. I don't need a fucking babysitter anymore, but he insists on staying. Whatever Liv is paying him, it must be decent enough to stick around and see this through.
“Do you ever drink?” I ask, borderline annoyed.
He shakes his head.
