Vegas Revenge Wedding (Nevada Bad Boys 2)

“Are you okay?” She looked over at me.

“No.” I buried my face into the quilt and shook my head. “I feel like death.”

“Let me see if I can find you something to eat.” She slid over to the edge of the bed.

“I wouldn’t advise opening the fridge—everything in there is way past expired.” I pulled a section of the sheet across my lower torso and hugged my pillow.

“Thanks for the warning.” She started walking towards the kitchen and even her delicate footsteps sounded like thunder in my skull.

IT TOOK SEVERAL HOURS before I finally recovered and the Tylenol pushed enough of the pounding out of my head for me to sit up without feeling like I was just going to keel over

and die. I sat up slowly and didn’t see Monica beside me. I crawled out of bed and stood for a moment to get my balance before I started to try and walk. My head was still foggy, even with the whiskey mostly gone from my system. I was glad Monica showed up before it had ran its course because I would have not missed what we did the night before for the world. I took a few steps, confirmed my legs were no longer going to cause any trouble, and finally walked out of the bedroom.

The smell of coffee filled my nostrils and although I could tell that I needed food, coffee was a pretty damn good substitute at the moment. I walked into the living room and saw Monica sitting on the couch. She was casually flipping through channels on the television and she looked over at me.

“You were right—everything is expired.” She shook her head and her eyebrows raised.

“Did you open it?” I looked towards the fridge.

“No, but since everything the pantry is expired, I had no hope for your fridge.” She exhaled sharply.

“I eat out a lot.” I chuckled and turned towards the kitchen. “At least there’s coffee.”

“I’m not so sure I would drink that.” She shuddered and shook her head. “It tastes like death. Have you ever even cleaned the coffeemaker?”

“They need to be cleaned?” I walked over and poured a cup, sipping it carefully. “It tastes fine—nice and strong.”

“Your standards are terrible.” She laughed as I walked over and took a seat.

“I know—I married you.” I nudged her with my hand.

“You weren’t complaining last night.” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at me.

“I was drunk as fuck.” My eyes got wide and then I smiled before sipping the coffee.

“Serious talk, though.” Her jovial demeanor turned dark. “We need to get the hell out of Las Vegas. Dane isn’t going to give us the money and we can’t afford to wait out the week hoping a miracle will happen.”

“Fuck it.” I shrugged. “Walter thinks he’s hot shit? I’m calling The Devil Knights. We’ll burn his fucking club to the ground and roast Ray Stone’s nuts over the embers if we have to.”

“Didn’t you already cash in your favor to help my father?” Her dark demeanor took on one of worry.

“Yeah, but they’ll help me—once I’m wearing their patch. It’s time for me to stop playing games. There’s nothing left in Las Vegas for me except you and you’re coming with me. My own mother hates me at this point and my brother—well, he’s a fucking mess.” I sipped my coffee again.

“I’ll go anywhere you want.” She scooted closer to me on the couch. “But do you really think joining The Devil Knights is a good idea? You could end up in prison.”

“It’s better than being dead.” I reached out and took Monica’s hand. “I’m not dying for this shit. I’ve got something to live for.”

“Ray came to visit me last night.” Her dark demeanor returned. “It’s why I came to find you. He threatened me. He said that if we didn’t pay...”

“He did what?” I pulled away and my face turned to an angry scowl. I didn’t need to hear the rest of her sentence. I knew exactly what a man like Ray would say to her. “Are you serious? I told that motherfucker Walter not to come near my family. Fuck this.” I stood up and walked towards the closet in the corner of the living room.

“What are you doing?” Monica stared at me as I pulled open the closet.

“I’m ending this.” I reached into the closet and pulled out a shotgun that had a strap on it. I slung it over my back and grabbed the Glock that was on the shelf beside it.

“Grady, no.” Monica ran towards me as I started towards the door, but I pulled away from her grasp.

“Stay here.” I threw open the door and started walking down the hallway.