Ruckus (Sinners of Saint 2)

“Is she the reason you’re staying at Vicious’s?” Dad smirked, raising an eyebrow.

I had told my parents that I wanted to stay at the Spencers’ mansion on my first night in Todos Santos so I could be there for my friend, but that shit was as convincing as a virgin whore. I never did anything for anyone unless I wanted to. Especially for Vicious. So everyone assumed I had a hidden agenda.

“Maybe.” I wet my lips, my gaze searching for her perky butt and French twist through the sea of flamboyant ladies. I didn’t out us as a couple. Not yet. I wasn’t sure when and if Rosie was going to tell her sister, and even though I wanted to grab the mic and announce it to everyone, I had to be mindful of her feelings. But she was crazy if she thought I was going to indulge her for much longer.

“Why?” I asked Dad.

“You used to date her sister, right?”

“Senior year. For a semester and a half.” I took a sip of my water and slung my arm over the back of his chair. “Way over it. Both of us.”

“Evidently.” Dad jerked his chin to the happy couple, just as Vicious grabbed his bride and French kissed her, his tongue attacking her mouth, in what started as slow and seductive and quickly moved to the type of shit you needed to do behind closed doors. Jaime was there to slap Vicious’s back and remind him that two hundred sets of eyes were looking.

“Nina’s been calling me lately. More than usual,” I told Dad. He was the only one I spoke to about Nina. Mom was biased—she was way too protective of me—and all my friends were…well, in the dark.

Dad pursed his lips, furrowing his brows. “Why not give her what she wants?”

“You mean a ton of money and to cause me the nastiest migraine in the history of headaches? She wants six hundred thousand.”

Beat of silence. “Do you not want to see him?”

Eli Cole was a lawyer. A family attorney, to be exact. Cases like mine landed on his desk every single day. People like Nina dragged him in and out of court like a revolving door, so he knew exactly how messy things could get for me.

I tsked, my eyes still drifting over the crowd, looking for the person I did want to see, all the time.

“No. Yes. I don’t know. What the fuck is the point, you know? He is a part of me. He is not exclusively hers. But then…why reopen a closed wound? I think we’re better off without it.” I pinched my eyebrows together. “I really shouldn’t fucking have anything to do with him in my current state.”

“Are you in a bad place?” Dad had an edge to his question. I gave the question some thought.

“Not necessarily. I just think not everyone is father material like you.”

Dad nodded. “Whatever you decide to do,” he said carefully, “just remember that your mom and I will support you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said.

Trent came back with Luna in his hands, and I spent the remainder of the evening making her laugh.

I crawled into Rosie’s bed around midnight. Our flight was boarding the next morning, but spending the night apart wasn’t an option. She was fast asleep—after fussing around Millie all day, being the perfect bridesmaid, and even running to a Target on the other side of town to get Millie flip-flops—the same necessities Rosie swore by—because she was afraid her sister’s feet would blister.

Baby LeBlanc looked peaceful, tucked under a blanket with her mouth slightly agape. Her eyelids fluttered, telling me she was dreaming. She had her two inhalers, orange tube of pills, and weird vest still dumped on her nightstand. This told me she passed out before she had the chance to get ready for bed. I slipped into the space beside her and spooned her from behind, clasping her close to my chest. She still smelled of sweat and alcohol, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. She didn’t even take a shower when she got back home. My little savage.

“Dean,” she murmured in her sleep, and I hardened against her. It sounded more like a moan, but maybe I was hearing what I wanted to hear. We hadn’t had time to talk to each other all day, and I missed her like a fucking lung. Lungs. Her lungs were failing her every single day, and we were wasting days mostly apart. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could live without seeing her regularly, every day, at least a few hours a day. We couldn’t go back to what we were. To occasional elevator encounters, fake rent reevaluations, and light, meaningless banter that had no path anywhere worth going to.

“Dean,” she said again, her ass wiggling into my groin, begging for contact. I sucked in a breath through my teeth and pressed my cock between her ass cheeks, covered by nothing but thin, short pajama bottoms. I dragged it along her slit and let out a small moan myself. This time I wasn’t going to ride her without a condom. But she asked for me, so I sure as hell was going to give her what she wanted.