Staying in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 1)

I walk over and take a seat on the edge of his olive green couch, looking around the room. There’s a flat-screen television mounted to the wall across from me and a whole lot of empty space everywhere else. For a home, this place is sparse.

“Not so big on furniture, huh?” I call after him.

He sighs heavily, like I’m a real headache. “I have all the furniture I need.”

“You don’t have a coffee table,” I point out.

“I don’t like coffee.”

I draw my phone out of my purse to check the time and find my battery is nearly dead. Of course I didn’t think to bring my charger with me. Maybe he has the same phone and I could use his. “Hey, do you have a car charger? I really need to juice this thing up. What model of phone do you have?”

Sin comes back in the living room muttering under his breath. “Why aren’t we at the airport? Why don’t you have a key chain? Why don’t you have a coffee table? What kind of phone do you have?” He stops and stares at me. “Just stop talking.”

I side-eye him. “Has anyone ever told you you’re not a very nice person?”

“Never,” he says, flatly. “I’m usually the belle of the ball.”

I crack a smile, trying to picture this grim man at a ball. Glancing down at my phone again, I light it up to check the time. “What time is my flight?”

He throws his hands in the air like he can’t believe I just asked another fucking question. I bite back a smile as he turns and storms up the stairs. Even though he told me to stay put, I’m tempted to follow him. I’m curious by nature, and now here I am stuck in a new place with a new person—I want to know things. I want to explore the house and see if the other rooms are as bare as the living room.

Eventually, he comes back, and he must be done because now he comes straight to the living room and stops in front of me.

“Are we ready to go?” I ask.

“Why don’t you stay in Vegas tonight?” he suggests. “I’ll drive you to a hotel and get you a room for the night. You can get some sleep, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow when clearer heads can prevail.”

I frown up at him, completely thrown by his suggestion. “What? No. Why would I stay in Vegas?”

His gaze drops to my stomach, like all of a sudden it will protrude. “You said you’re carrying Rafe’s kid.”

I visibly droop. “Yeah, well, he made his feelings about that pretty clear.”

“You took him off guard. He was upset. I want to wait and see how he feels tomorrow before we take any kind of action.”

“Yeah, well, this is officially no longer your concern,” I tell him, pushing my purse strap up on my shoulder and standing. “I only came here in the first place because Vince said some stuff and I’m an idiot. I should have known Rafe wouldn’t care.”

That seems to snag his attention. “Vince knows?”

I shake my head, looking down at the ground instead of at him. “No, Vince doesn’t know. Nobody knows.”

“So, what happens if you go home tonight?”

“I do my best to put this whole trip out of my mind and never step foot in this god-awful city again,” I state.

“I meant with the pregnancy.”

That darkens my mood and I sigh again. “I don’t want to talk about this. We need to get going so I don’t miss my flight.”

“You’re planning to end the pregnancy,” he says, rather than asking.

I don’t much appreciate the deeply judgmental vibe I’m getting off him. “I am a 19-year-old without a job or a degree. The father of my child is the head of some Las Vegas crime syndicate; he wants nothing to do with me and doesn’t even believe he’s the one who got me pregnant. If my protective, hot-headed brother-in-law finds out his cousin impregnated and abandoned me, it could potentially cause devastating ripples within this family that I don’t even want to think about. Also, I have less than $50 to my name.”

“Your brother-in-law just inherited millions,” Sin states, like I’m full of shit. “You telling me he wouldn’t give you some money?”

“I’m not his responsibility. My sister has been sacrificing to take care of me literally her whole entire life. I’m finally coming into my own now. Maybe you don’t understand that, but I don’t want her to have to keep taking care of me. I want to amount to something. I want to be someone she can be proud of. Not even 20 and knocked up by a Morelli of all fucking people? Not something she’s going to be proud of.”

“So, it’s not the money. You don’t want a kid at all.”