Deliciously Damaged (Reckless Bastards MC 3)

“I don’t owe you a damn thing, so I guess you got your wires crossed somewhere.”

Buzz cut tossed his head back and laughed. “Really? Because Krissy says you’re a crack card counter and that’s how she’s gettin’ us what she owes us.”

I wasn’t a liar but living the way I had as a kid meant I had a damn good poker face. “Well then she told you wrong. I used to count cards, about ten years ago. It took a long time to get good at it, more time than you —”

Buzz cut stopped my words with a backhand across my face.

“I didn’t ask for your fucking life story, bitch. Tell me you’ll have my money.”

I shook my head, shaking away the ringing that dulled every sound. “I won’t have it. Even if I did play that tournament, I’d never make it past the first round. And that’s if they even let me in the casino.”

“Shut the fuck up!” His fist came flying again, this time right to my stomach and I doubled over, coughing and struggling to breathe.

“Krissy said you never got caught.”

“Well Krissy’s a goddamn liar, isn’t she?”

I knew he was interested now and I kept talking even as I felt my cheek swelling. “She has no idea why I up and left the city years ago,” I told him, thinking as fast as I could before another fist descended.

A snivelly rat with greasy brown hair invaded my space. “She’s lying, man. Look at that lying little face.” He had a smile like a cartoon villain. “I hate a lying bitch,” he crowed and before I could take a step back, he punched me in the face and I hit the ground.

It took a second for my body to realize it had dropped to the hard, hot concrete, but when it did, all I could do was groan in pain. My jaw felt like it was broken in a thousand pieces. My teeth hurt. I wanted to cry and scream and yell. But I wouldn’t. Not now. Not ever.

Buzz cut leaned down and hissed like a serpent, “No more fucking excuses, Mandy. Get the fucking money or live with the consequences.” He wasn’t that close, at least from what I could tell through my non-swollen eye, which happened to be pressed against the ground.

“Or maybe you won’t live with them,” he added ominously.

I closed my eyes. A few seconds, maybe a few hours passed and then I felt it, a boot in my stomach, on my arm, my back, my face. I curled up into a ball the best I could. Over and over, blow after blow rained down on me until I couldn’t move. Could barely see, not that I wanted to open my eyes.

I could only hear the sound of three sets of booted feet stomp away. Buzz cut, Snivelly Rat and some silent asshole, growing farther and farther away as everything around me went black.

***

I don’t know how many minutes passed after I lost consciousness. No one had rushed to my aid or even ambled to my aid so when I came to and remembered the attack, I slowly sat up and caught my breath.

Fucking Vegas.

Standing was more of a challenge, and breathing was pure torture. I leaned against the trunk of the nearest car and scanned the parking lot to make sure they were gone. I limped to my car with a swollen eye and an arm I could tell was broken, then managed to slide behind the wheel and get the engine started. My seatbelt wasn’t going to happen with this pain. If those dickwads hadn’t killed me, I figured my number wasn’t up today.

It was the dumbest thing I’d ever done, even dumber than sleepin

g with Savior and coming back to Vegas all rolled into one, but I drove myself to the hospital. It took longer than it should, given my limited vision and the setting sun, to say nothing of the excruciating pain throbbing throughout my body.

But I made it.

Mostly.

I left my car parked at an angle in the ambulance bay and staggered inside the hospital before passing out in the arms of a brown-eyed male nurse.

I faded in and out of consciousness but knew it took several people to get me into a room and check me out.

One of them kept asking questions.

“Does she have any I.D.? Anyone we should call?”

The voice belonged to an older woman.

A man answered. “There are hardly any numbers in her phone. Work. Landlord. Teddy. The rest are just numbers, no names.”