Wrecking Beauty Page 7

  Addison looked up at him. “What’s wrong?”

  “That was Greyson. He said Dallas is pushing for us to go on the offensive.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “These guys, they’re not used to being in hiding. They’re used to fighting. Dallas is trying to capitalize on that. He’s got them all riled up, says we’re acting like cowards.”

  “Dallas is the one who wanted to turn me over at the clubhouse.”

  “Yes,” Cutler said, watching her closely.

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “He wants us to go to King’s.”

  “King’s?”

  “It’s a casino. Owned by the Devlins.”

  Addison put her fork down and leaned back.

  “He wants to let them know we’re not scared of them. We’ll rent out some rooms and make a scene, let them know we’re ready for them. It’s a public place, it’s not like they’ll be able to gun us down inside the casino.”

  “And what do you think?” Addison asked.

  “I think I owe a lot to these guys. They’re my brothers.”

  “It sounds dangerous.”

  “They killed two of our guys, Addison. I understand if they want to act up a little.”

  “And I’m supposed to go?”

  “To show them they haven’t won. Nothing’s going to happen. You’ll have an entire biker gang protecting you.” Addison just stared at him. “I can’t say no to them. They’re my brothers. Without them, I have nothing.”

  Addison nodded, feeling cold inside. “I get it,” she said. “I’m the one who got you guys into all this in the first place, anyway. Just tell me when and where.” She stood up and grabbed her tote bag from the floor next to the couch. “I better put some other clothes on.”

  She quickly walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind her. Were they just planning to give her up? She thought she had a connection with Cutler, but it looked like she was wrong again. She always chose the bad guy. Every time. She angrily looked through her bag, pulling out some clean clothes. She was just another fuck to Cutler; that’s it. Some guy she was thrown together with. He used her for the night, and now he was going to give her up. Fine. She’d accept it. She had gotten herself into this mess, had drawn in Salem and Kyle, and the rest of the Reapers. It was up to her to clean it up. At least after tonight she’d never have to see Cutler Remes again.

  In the kitchen, Cutler clenched and unclenched his fists in frustration. What was he supposed to do? What did Addison expect from him? Fuck. The Reapers were his family. They were all he had. Dallas could be a prick sometimes, but he was senior, and if he’d convinced all the other guys they were acting like pussies, Greyson wouldn’t be able to hold them back. All the Reapers had come from violent gangs; they could only let themselves be beat up on for so long until they wanted to push back. It wasn’t in their nature to hide, and what could they accomplish from there? The Russians weren’t going to let this blow over. He had feelings for Addison, but he had to put them aside.

  He strode through the living room and opened the bedroom door. Addison turned to him, fully clothed.

  “We’re meeting Greyson at the casino bar tonight. I’ll be working until then.”

  “Fine,” Addison said calmly. Cutler looked like he was about to say something else, then shut the door. Addison waited until she heard his footsteps retreat from the door, then sunk onto the bed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Addison sat on the back of Cutler’s bike as they drove down the strip, past a sign reading, “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas.” This was what she’d always pictured when she thought about Vegas. There were flashing lights everywhere, and she recognized a few of the casinos that they passed. Caesars, Tropicana, The Venetian, she read on the signs as they drove by. Even though there was so much wealth inside, the area around looked seedy. Addison spotted a flashing sign for a pawn store on their left. She poked Cutler in the stomach.

  “Pull over!”

  “Why?”

  “Just pull over!” Cutler pulled to the side of the road, and Addison hopped off the back of the bike. “I’ll be right back,” she said, tossing her helmet to him. He caught it, and she ran into the pawn shop.

  What’s she doing? Cutler wondered. He looked around at the lights. He found them vulgar. He didn’t like to come into downtown—he preferred the open road, desert. He felt too hemmed in here. Addison came flying out of the door.

  “OK,” she said, taking her helmet back from him and plopping it on her head. He didn’t ask her any questions. They hadn’t spoken much since that afternoon. He pulled back out into the lane, going slowly now with the casino traffic.

  Addison saw a flashing gold sign up ahead that read, “King’s Casino.” It sat atop a huge luxury hotel and casino, apparently owned by her ex-fiancé's family. She obviously knew now about the Devlins’ wealth and power, but it was something different to see this behemoth shining over the rest of the buildings. I could have had a piece of that, she thought, not with envy, but with marvel over the path her life had almost taken.

  Cutler drove until they reached the foot of King’s, and found the entrance to the parking garage. He got his ticket, and they found the area for motorcycle parking. It was filled with bikes, and Cutler recognized some as belonging to other Devil’s Reapers. He pulled his in alongside them and cut the engine. He took off his helmet, and Addison did the same.

  “Ready?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. Addison nodded back. They crossed over to the elevator and rode it up to the lobby in silence. They stepped out into an enormous lobby covered in marble streaked through with white and taupe. The centerpiece was a huge gold fountain that shot high into the air, surrounded by an open atrium ringed with high-end shops. Tourists milled around, excited to be staying at the most opulent hotel in Vegas. Cutler checked his phone.

  “They’re at the Sovereign Lounge, upstairs.” He pointed to the back of the lobby, toward a staircase that spanned almost the whole width of the lobby. They made their way toward it, and up the stairs. She followed Cutler down a hallway filled with people, and began to hear loud, throbbing music. Over thick glass doors at the end of it, were the words “Sovereign Lounge.” Addison could see multicolored lights shining around the otherwise dark club. A pair of bouncers opened the doors for them, and they made their way inside.

  Over the crush of people, Addison could see a circular bar set up in the center, and tables and booths to the right. On the left was a dance floor with a DJ spinning high above, and beyond that was a terrace that looked out over the pool below and the rest of the Vegas strip.

  Cutler looked around and spotted the Reapers taking up a couple of booths on the side of the room. Addison followed him over, and Greyson stood up from the side to greet them.

  “You sure this is such a good idea?” Cutler asked him.

  “We want to show them we’re not broken,” Greyson responded.

  “Yeah, and to shove a middle finger right in their faces,” Dallas added from next to him. The rest of the table laughed. “Cause a scene and have them not be able to do a damn thing about it.”

  “You call this making a scene?” Addison asked. The Reapers turned to her frowning, and Cutler nudged her to shut up. “I mean, you’re a bunch of bad-ass bikers and you’re sitting in a corner. You know what? Give me a few minutes, I’ll be right back.”

  Dallas stood up and grabbed her arm. Cutler quickly stepped between them.

  “I said I was coming right back. I’m not skipping out. I have nowhere to go,” she hissed at him. Dallas slowly released her arm.

  Addison walked away from them, headed back toward the lobby. They wanted to cause a scene? Fine. She’d cause a scene. She felt like it was her last night on earth anyway, and she wanted to go out with a bang. She fingered the wad of hundreds in her wallet that she’d gotten from pawning her engagement ring, as she walked down the staircase. She looked around at the luxury stores. Gucci. That would do.


  Cutler sat down next to Greyson on the suede sectional. What the hell was Addison doing? This whole thing made him uncomfortable. It was needlessly dangerous. Men always did stupid fucking things when they were driven by ego, in his experience.

  Greyson leaned over to him.

  “Look, I know what you’re feeling right now. But they’ve just gotta let off a little steam,” he whispered. Cutler nodded back at him.

  “But what’s next? We can’t hide forever either. We’ve gotta come up with a next step.”

  “I’ll be honest with you Cutler, I don’t know what to do. We’ve gone for years without violence, these guys have all committed to that life.”

  One of the other guys slid a bottle of beer over to Cutler. He and Greyson clinked glasses and drank. Cutler sank back into the suede, feeling the beer run through him. He drank it quickly, feeling it take the edge off. This place wasn’t exactly the kind of place the Reapers usually hung out in. That’s why they were sitting around so awkwardly now. They were used to the back rooms of a seedy dive bars, and here they were in some hip casino club. Where was Addison? She’d been so quiet since that afternoon. He didn’t know what to say to her. Emotions weren’t exactly his strong point. He grabbed another beer off the table and started drinking it.

  Addison emerged from the Gucci store in a crimson red cocktail dress and sky-high gold heels. She stuffed the clothes she'd been wearing into her tote bag and took another look at herself in the reflective glass of the storefront. The silky dress was cut in a low “v” almost to her waist in front, and it was cinched around with a gold belt with a snake head on it. The heels picked up the color nicely, she thought.

  She noticed several men checking her out as she turned to go back up to the club. She smiled a little to herself. As she made her way up the stairs, she felt like she was playing a part in some James Bond-type caper. She might as well have fun with it. The doorman gave her an appreciative nod as she walked back into the Sovereign Lounge.

  The crowds parted for her a bit as she made her way to the central bar. Amazing what a new dress could do for a girl. Raising her hand slightly, she got one of the male bartender’s attention. He was in his mid-20s, cute, and practically hustled over to her.

  “What can I get for you?” he asked with a seductive smile, clearly ready for anything. Addison smiled back. Pulling her old Kate Spade clutch out of her tote, she handed the large bag over to him.

  “Well, a couple things. Would you mind terribly stowing this behind the bar for me? And let me follow that up quickly with the fact that I’d like to order bottle service for that table over there,” she said, pointing over to the Reapers.

  “That table of bikers?” he asked incredulously. “We usually don’t let people sit there without table service already, but none of us really wanted to be the one to ask them to leave”

  “Pretty please?” Addison smiled, sliding a stack of hundred bills over the bar to him.

  “Hey, whatever you want,” he answered, punching her order into the computer system. “My shift ends at two, by the way.”

  Addison smiled back at him and made her way over to the Reapers table. Greyson glanced up and did a double-take when he saw her. He nudged Cutler. Cutler stood up, swallowing hard.

  “How did you…” he stammered.

  “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve,” Addison replied. A few servers swarmed around her as they made their way to the table.

  “We didn’t order any…” Greyson said as he waved them off.

  “I did.” Addison said, as the servers set up top-shelf vodka, whiskey, tequila, and mixers on their table.

  “Fuck, Greyson, don’t question it! I’m Ajax, by the way.” A squirrelly-looking guy in his late twenties practically catapulted himself out of the booth to shake Addison’s hand. She couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Well, Ajax, I hope you’ll have a drink with me. I couldn’t stand to see you guys just sitting around looking so sad, so I figured I’d help you out a little.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t mind helping you out at all, Addison. Here, sit, sit,” Ajax said, shooing a couple of the Reapers further into the booth. Ajax began pouring out drinks for everyone, as a half dozen more Reapers walked in the front. Greyson waved them over, and they took over the booth next to them too.

  Addison signaled the servers. They brought over more drinks for the second table, which erupted in cheers as the drinks were delivered. Ajax stood, whiskey and coke in hand. The Reapers quieted down. “A toast to Addison, our patron saint of free drinks. For god’s sake, Addison, stand up so everyone can see you in that dress.”

  Addison obligingly stood, eliciting whistles from the two tables of bikers. “Drink up, boys! This is the Devlins’ liquor, so let’s not let it go to waste!” she said, raising her glass and slaying every man in the room with her accent. The Reapers roared in agreement, then tossed back their drinks. Addison sank back into the booth, glad she'd won over the bikers even a little bit.

  Cutler watched as Ajax leaned over and jokingly flirted with Addison. She did look good in that dress. Where had she come up with the money? She must have pawned something earlier that night, but if she had the money, why didn’t she run off? Greyson handed him a lowball of whiskey, and he spun the liquid around in the glass.

  “C’mon Cutler, loosen up a little.” He glanced up to see Addison looking at him over her glass, her eyes unreadable. She poured out three shots of tequila and slid one over to him. She handed the other one to Ajax, and without breaking eye contact with Cutler, she downed the shot. Cutler shrugged, and he and Ajax did the same.

  “Fuck, I’m feeling a little tension here,” Ajax said, glancing between the two of them. “I know what will fix that.” He poured out three more tequila shots. Addison and Cutler immediately drank them. “I have to say, not many girls can hold their liquor like that.”

  “Well, I am British. I got an earlier start than you Americans.” Ajax laughed, and spotted two hot girls walking by their tables. “Would you excuse me for a moment?” He hustled out of the booth and threw his arms around the girls. “Ladies, ladies, where are you off to so quickly?” They heard him say as he followed them to the dance floor.

  Cutler stared at Addison, then got up and sat down next to her on her side of the booth. “So, what did you sell?” He asked.

  “My engagement ring,” she replied lightly.

  “Must have been quite a rock.”

  “It was,” she responded.

  “So what are you still doing here? You could probably hide for a while with that kind of money.”

  “I said I wouldn’t run out on you guys, and I won’t. I’m the one who got you into this mess.” She poured another tequila shot for them.

  “Damn, you can really knock ‘em back,” Cutler said, smiling for the first time that night. They clinked their shot glasses together and drank. “How many business school projects have you missed?”

  “Oh, God,” Addison groaned. She hadn’t even thought about it. She could see the Vanderbilt campus now, probably looking calm, with a few students crossing the quad chatting at night. “Well, it’s only been a couple days, right? To be honest, I’m not sure who else besides Owen would miss me. Maybe my parents, if they’ve tried to Skype me, though my computer is pretty much destroyed. I didn’t have that many friends.”

  “That’s hard to believe,” Cutler said.

  “Well, I was so busy with business school—no, that’s a lie. I didn’t have a lot of friends because Owen didn’t want me to, and I put him first. Here, let’s have something a little fancier.” She pulled a bottle of champagne out of the bucket on their table. “Would you do the honors?” Cutler took the bottle and popped it open easily, then poured them a couple of bubbling glasses. “So, what about you? Why isn’t there a Mrs. Cutler Remes?”

  “I don’t know,” Cutler said, sipping his champagne. “God, I can’t remember the last time I had champagne.”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

&nb
sp; “Fine… I’ve never had a relationship longer than three months. That what you want to know?”

  “Wow, that’s awful! That’s even worse than I thought! Three months?!” Addison laughed.

  “Hey, c’mon! You asked!” He smiled again.

  “I mean, three months!? I’ve had some fucked up relationships, don’t get me wrong, but three months is barely a relationship at all! That’s the length of a trial membership to a gym or something, not a relationship!” She laughed hysterically over her champagne.

  “Oh god, can we just forget I said anything, please?” Cutler asked.

  “No, definitely not. I could never forget that.” She had another sip of champagne. The DJ changed tracks, and a rap song with a thumping bass track came blasting through the speakers. “Ooo, I love this song!” Addison cried. “Come on!” She grabbed Cutler’s hand and pulled him up to standing.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” he said, sinking back down into the booth. “I don’t dance.”

  “Oh, come on,” Addison said. “You’re a guy, all you have to do is sway.” She pulled him up again, and peeled his jacket off, revealing his muscular arms under his t-shirt. “That’s better.” She tossed his jacket into the booth, and he reluctantly followed her through the crowd toward the dance floor. It was hard to say no to her in that dress, he thought.

  Addison guided Cutler through the sea of people until they were in the middle of the dance floor. She turned to face him and put her hands on his hips, slowly pulling him back and forth to the beat.

  “See? Easy.” She let go of his hips, and took his hands, guiding them around to the small of her back. She stepped into him, pressing her body against his, and running her hands across his back. She turned around, grinding her ass into him, and then dropping down and standing back up. She let her arms snake up around his neck, and felt him grow hard against her butt. He wrapped his hands around her waist, and leaned down to kiss her.