McQUEEN: Las Vegas Bad Boys (15 page)

I
raise my fist
, ready to take him down. I've been training with JoJo for weeks, and now it's gonna pay off.

Frank Fucking Grotto.

"You gonna punch me?" he asks, crossing his arms, all smug, realizing I'm the one on the outs. I'm the one who thought this girl was mine. And this whole time she's been with this prick, this bastard who ruined Emmy's sister's life. This fucker who’s been in prison for running a drug cartel.

And now he's standing here, claiming JoJo as his.

I take a step back.

I don't know who I should be more angry with. The girl I've gone all in for, or the man who is taking her from me.

"You're fucking serious?" I ask JoJo. "You're engaged? This whole time, you've had him on the sidelines? Is this some sick joke?"

She covers her face with her hands, hysterical. "No, no—I swear to you, Ryan."

"Don't fucking say my name." My heart turns cold as I stand there, looking at her. This woman I thought I knew so well, the woman I was willing to do anything for, sacrifice everything for.

I've been played this whole fucking time.

"It isn’t what it looks like." She shakes her head. "I love you. I do. I love you."

Man, that motherfucking hurts. She didn't say those words when I said them to her. She didn't say them while I made love to her, while I promised my everything to her.

She says them now when the man she's marrying is two feet away.

"I don't want to see your face again," I tell her, pushing away. I leave the house with her trailing behind me, pleading and in tears. I don't stop.

I walk away, leaving the life I never had a chance to live.

* * *

I run out the door, begging him to come back.

He doesn't.

He leaves through the front gate. He has no reason to turn and face me, no reason to plead or promise or pretend.

All I have left is the one thing my family wanted. The thing I sacrificed my relationship with Ryan for.

My husband.

I wipe my tears, my shoulders shaking, my eyes blurred. My heart cracked.

"You done crying?" Frank asks.

I catch my breath, seeing him there at my front door, leaning against the doorframe like he owns the place.

I can't speak; I just walk past him into the house. I want to bury myself in blankets, hibernate for the next fifty years. I don't even want to think about facing a lifetime without the man who loves me.

A lifetime without McQueen. It doesn't seem possible.

"Don't walk away from me, Josephine." Frank grabs my arm, not letting me retreat.

"Why are you even here? Aren't you supposed to be in prison until this weekend?"

"I got out a few days early. Couldn't wait to see my wife. Your pops is the one who set this up, for you and me to be alone this morning."

I narrow my eyes, trying to take my hand from his. He doesn't let me. "My dad knows you're here?"

"Oh, kitten, your daddy knows everything."

Gross, much?
I extract my hand more forcefully and try to walk away. But I'm still catching my breath, trying to assimilate with this morning that has spun out of control. "Okay ... so what did he send you here for?"

"He thought we could use a little quality time. Get to know one another better." Frank's eyes have a glint, but not an appealing one. More like an axe-murderer glint. The glint of a man who has spent the last three months in prison.

"I'm actually really tired. It's nice to meet you, and obviously we'll have plenty of time to catch up … but right now I need to rest."

"No, no, no," he says, wagging his finger at me. It's only then that I take a good hard look at this man my father has determined should be my partner for the next sixty years.

He is tall, dark, but not handsome. He has curly black hair, a sharp nose, chiseled cheekbones. He needs to put on about twenty pounds, and beef up a bit. But even then, I can't imagine him losing the creepy mobster vibe.

"You think I'm just gonna let my bride walk away after she's been so naughty."

"I'm not naughty." I swallow, closing my eyes, trying to block out the memories of Ryan and me in my bed just half an hour ago. His arms cradled me as we made love ... and I’ve ruined it. Ruined everything.

"Oh, little minx, you are very naughty. I was told I was marrying a virgin, but we both know you smell like sex. We both know you have another man's come dripping from your pussy."

"Stop—it's not okay to talk to me that way."

"Oh, I think it is. I can talk to you however the hell I want, slut."

I gasp in shock. My family may be messed up, but no one—and I mean no one—talks to me that way. I am the Boss's daughter for one, and for two, the Irish Mob just doesn't speak like that to women. They may think it, but to say it out loud? My dad would never put up with that.

"Oh, you're playing the innocent virgin, still, are you? Even though we both know you're not? Fine. Then it's time to deflower you."

He grabs me by both hands and presses his mouth against mine. All at once he grabs my ass, and shoves his other hand down the front of my pants.

I close my eyes tight, and for a moment I think,
this is it
. This is my life. I will be the obedient, beaten-down wife of a mobster. I will be a woman who is a commodity, not a treasure. I will be Frank Grotto's prize and I will be nothing.

But then my reflexes kick in. I haven’t been training with Kit for so long to let some skinny-ass man use me. In seconds, I have him on his back in a knee bar, and I gain complete control of him—and myself.

Holding him down, I tell him the God's honest truth.

"I am not a woman you can order around when you want. A woman you can degrade when you want. A woman you can fuck when you want. Understood?" I press my right arm deeper against his groin until he responds.

He gives the slightest nod with his chin, and I release him.

"You tell my father about McQueen being here, and I will cut off your cock in the dead of night. Not a word of this. Tell him I'm with my friends for the night and that you signed off on it. Tell him I have my fiancé’s goddamned approval. I have friends, and I know your enemies. You want to use your cock again? Good, then keep it in your goddamned pants."

Grotto gets up, glaring at me and holding his groin. Leaving the house, he mutters something about calling my father.

Slamming the front door, I run up to my bedroom. I need to pack a bag and get the hell out of here before my father comes home.

Then I’m going to do the thing McQueen has never done.

I'm gonna beg.

I
leave
her house and drive straight to Ace's hotel. Texting as soon as I park, I try to find out where my friends are.

Jack, Landon, and Ace are all getting lunch at a restaurant in the Spades Royalle, and I meet them there.

"Don't you assholes work?" I ask as I slide into the booth with them. It's a sushi place, and everyone's shoving sashimi into their mouths with reckless abandon.

"I work
here
, douche canoe," Ace says. "And in general, Landon pretends to work. And Jack—well, what are you doing here?"

"I was meeting Ashley in her dressing room this afternoon. Apparently she's pissed about something."

"Fuckin' A, man," Landon says. "That woman has got to go. She's nothing but trouble. Always has been."

"Speaking of trouble,” Ace says, looking at me. “What's this pussy doing here? Don't you help JoJo at the gym about this time?"

I run my hands over my face. Where the fuck do I even start? I figure shock and awe is always a winning combo.

"You know Frank Grotto got out of prison?" I ask, picking up a piece of sushi. I smirk, knowing I have their complete attention.

"You show up at my hotel just to shit with me?" Ace asks.

"Nope." I pop another piece in my mouth, then shrug. I'm suddenly so fucking calm about this whole thing. It's like I'm Mister Miyagi from the Karate Kid.

"And how do you know this?" Jack asks. "He was sent to prison just a few months ago."

"Interesting thing about that,” I say. “He got out. And he's getting married next week."

"What the fuck?" Landon shakes his head. "I don't wish that SOB on anyone."

"Well, I’m sure he and JoJo will have a happy life together." I grin maniacally, because at this point, it's either that or start chucking raw fish across the room. I'm trying not to completely lose my hold on reality.

On the other hand, Ace literally spits his sake across the table.

Jack and Landon don't know whether to laugh at the faux pas or look on with horror. I know they're debating, because they look caught somewhere between the two.

I fill my friends in on the morning. Glossing over my attempt to win over JoJo, only to be swept aside for the man we all hate most in this state.

"Shit, man, what a disaster," Jack says. "I don't even know where to start."

"How about with a plan to get Grotto back in prison?" Ace asks. "Emmy is gonna flip out when she hears about this."

"I know," I tell them. "When I saw his face standing outside her front door, I wanted to choke him then and there.”

"You really loved her?" Landon asks. "Like you volunteered to be in her bad boy mob club? Give up everything to be with her?"

"Yeah, until he found out she's a liar,” Ace says. “And a cheat. She's been playing our boy this whole time."

"Maybe." Landon raises his hands in the air, offering a different perspective. "I mean, the whole situation sounds pretty fucked up. You think she wants to marry that prick?"

"What?" I ask. “You think there's more to the story?”

"What do I know?" Landon shrugs. "But considering the fact I fell in love with a woman who literally
was
married, I tend to think stories may have more than one side."

"Who are you asshats?" I ask, shaking my head. "You've all become pussy-whipped."

"Nah," Ace says. "We just fell hard. Luckily, we found women to catch us."

"Maybe you should make absolutely certain that the story you're telling yourself is the true one," Landon says, taking a swig of his beer.

"This is a fucking Oprah rerun," Jack says, tossing his napkin on the table. "And on that note, I've gotta go get my ass handed to me by my girlfriend."

He stands to leave, but before he does he claps me on the back. "You got this, brother. And if you need us, we've always got your back."

* * *

I've been sitting on his front porch for five hours. I can’t leave in case I miss him, can't bear to text in case he doesn't respond—or worse, tells me to go. I need to see him face-to-face.

While I wait, I text Lucy.

Me: Things got bad at home. Sorry I've been MIA. Pls lie to my brothers if they come looking for me.

Lucy: Breaking News! JoJo is being cryptic and weird.

Me: Sorry. I’m a mess. McQueen confessed his love and Grotto caught us. Worst. Morning. Ever.

Lucy: Holy shitballs. Okay. No worries. I'm here at Mary's. All good.

Me: Why are you there?"

Lucy: I'm helping Mary look for nannies online. Connor bought her a brand new Tahoe. He said he’s moving home, and that she can hire help.

Me: Think it's gonna last? The good juju between them?

Lucy: I think Mary wanted to fight until she got what she wanted. I think that's called either true love or marriage.

Me: Ha. Well, thanks for helping her.

Lucy: No problem. I think your family is becoming my family. Weird, but true.

I smile, knowing my nephew and nieces can woo over the most difficult person, and Lucy isn't even in the realm of difficult. She is beyond generous.

Me: Thank you for everything. I love you.

Lucy: Love you more. Does this mean the wedding is off?

Me: I don't know what it means. Am currently on McQueen's porch waiting for him to show up and take me back.

Lucy: Yeah ... you lying to him was pretty messed up.

Me: Thanks. I wasn't aware.

Lucy: If he really loves you, he'll understand.

I send her a string of heart emojis, wondering if what she said is actually true. Will he understand? Were my actions forgivable?

But I don't have any more time to think about it, because he’s pulling up. The garage door opens and he drives his car in. The door lowers and shuts.

Shit. I really hope I didn't wait all day for that swift rejection.

Then the front door opens behind me, and I let go of the breath I wasn't aware I was holding.

I stand, feeling the tightness in my calves from not working out today.

"Hey," I say, scared to see his gaze.

"What are you doing here?" He stands with the door in his hand.

I stand there awkwardly, wringing my hands. Desperate to be his.

"So you and Grotto? Was that a lie? Or are you engaged?"

"We are engaged, but—"

"Are you fucking with me now? Again?" He shakes his head, moves to shut the door.

Screw it. I need to explain. I need him to hear me out and then I need him to make love to me all over again.

I need those things, and I'm staying here until they all happen.

I lean down, slide under his arm, and run into his house.

He won't stop me, because—unlike Grotto—McQueen knows all about my moves. He knows better than to get rough with me.

I just hope he'll forgive me, and pin me to the ground. Once I'm there, I swear I won't try to get out of his hold.

* * *

JoJo darts into my house, and I'm left scratching my head. Earlier, when I left her house, I was all fired up, ready to demolish her and Frank Grotto and never look at them again.

But my friends talked me off the ledge and now I'm standing at my front door as the girl who’s messed with my head since day one runs into my living room. It started with her not being honest about being a virgin, then her leaving when I wanted her to stay, again and again.

I've never been the sort of man who just takes what he can get. I get the best and I don't take no for an answer.

But JoJo has done nothing but push me away and refuse my offer of more.

When I texted my brother last night, I invited him out to Vegas for JoJo's fight. Yeah, we've been distant for the past few years, but I really believed that if I was going all-in with JoJo and her family, it could give us some closure. I was willing to close the book on the sad story of the McQueens and start something with the O'Malleys.

But that was before Frank Grotto entered the picture.

Landon says I need to get the whole story, and since JoJo's here, alone, maybe she has more to tell.

I walk into the house, lock my door. She's in the kitchen, sitting on a barstool at the kitchen island. Her head rests on her arms against the counter. When I walk in, her head pops up, her eyes full of fear.

I don't want her to be scared of me.

But I do want her to understand the situation.

"Listen, JoJo, I don't want to be all intense, a fucker who takes things too seriously, doesn't know how to keep things in perspective. But shit." I shake my head, my arms crossed. "When I told you I loved you, I meant it. And, dammit, if this is all some game, where you're out to make me a fool, you win. I
am
a fool. A fucking fool, because even after all that went down this morning, I'd still choose you."

Her mouth moves, as if she's ready to speak, then it closes again.

"You have to give me something here, JoJo. Why are you here? Why did you come back?"

She closes her eyes, shakes her head.

I run my hands through my hair, wanting to throw something, wanting to scream. I don't want to be an asshole who gets loud and aggressive, but shit.

"I need more than that," I yell. "It's over, this hide and seek. I'm not playing that shit with you. You have to be honest with me, I deserve that."

She's crying now, biting her lip so hard I swear she's gonna draw blood. Her shoulders shake, her eyes refusing to meet mine.

"Dammit, Jo, what is it?" I lean over the island, grab her face in my hands. "Are you marrying Grotto?"

She squeezes her eyes shut. Tears fall down her cheeks, and she looks so distraught.

Well, I'm fucking distraught too.

She pulls her face away from me, but I grab her wrists before she can get away. This girl knows how to run, but she needs to learn some new moves. I may have changed a hundred ways for her, but maybe it's because I'm the one man she needs.

The one man who’s willing to fight for her heart.

I know JoJo could get out of this hold with one quick motion. She’s the best fighter I've ever seen.

But she doesn't try to get away.

She doesn't try to force my hands away.

She stays.

And that tells me everything.