Cousins (Cousins #2) (17 page)

"Where are you going without me, Duchess?"

"Just out." I bend my head down. I can't face him. I feel extraordinarily guilty that I won't be here with him tonight, and I'm pretending as if I'm the one mad at him.

"If I told you not to go would you listen?"

"Probably not."

"And there lies the problem doesn't it."

I don't think he's waiting for an actual response to that statement, so I stay silent.

"You don't listen to a fucking thing I say. You do whatever you want. Well I'm going to give you what you want then–"

"Wait." I anxiously interrupt. This doesn't sound good.

"I'm done."

"What do you mean done?"

"You know what the fuck I mean."

"Why!? Because I won't come to your stupid show tonight?"

Crap I didn't mean for that to come out the way it did.

"Because this is dumb!" He roars. "Because I don't beg for pussy, and I'm not going to start now. Not even from you."

"So I'm just that to you now?!"

"You know you're not
just
that. You're every fucking thing. But I can't seem to make you see that. So if you don't see it, if you don't feel it, if you don't want it, then I'm just the fuck done."

"I thought you were going to give me some more time. I thought you were going to wait for me!"

I feel a heavy sensation on my chest.
 

I think it's panic.

"Your time is up." He says coldly.

And now I'm pretty sure that the tears are coming next, but I'll do almost anything to make sure that he doesn't see them.
 

This is my out.
 

Right here.
 

This moment.
 

He's serving it to me on a silver platter, and I need to take it before I destroy us both.

"Then let me finish up in here, and I'll be on my way."

I bow my head lower as a tear drops on the keyboard in front of me, but Roman either doesn't see or doesn't care and the next thing I know, the only sounds I hear are Roman's heavy booted footsteps walking away from me and the office door slamming shut.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ROMAN

"Shit looks good in here Rome."

My crew is all here. Good thing too, because I'm ten seconds away from getting good and fucking drunk.
 

Cutter is complimenting me on the new custom love seats I ordered for the VIP area, Camden is checking on a couple of things in the back for the performance seating, and Jade is flirting with Mr. Rico fucking Suave himself– the bar manager Marco. Why I still employ him is beyond me.

The King brothers and I came up with the idea of hosting live concerts in The Lotus to justify our exclusive membership price of seventy-five hundred for the year, as well as to attract more high profile clientele. We want the celebrities we have in our pockets, like Mendez, to get a few pictures canoodling with other celebrities in an approved setting. A setting that we control. No drugs. No driving home drunk. Basically they're paying us twice. Once to party and then again to keep them out of trouble.

It's a brilliant plan that Joseph actually masterminded. Instead of resenting him so much, I'm starting to think it would be a smarter idea for me to learn as much as I can from him. He may not be the best father on the planet, but he's certainly an expert on how to turn ten dollars into ten thousand. And that's a legacy that a whole lot of sons would love to have passed down to them from their fathers.

"Yeah it does." I agree with Cutter on the new decor. "The munchkin had a lot to do with it." I say giving Jade her props.

"You should have set up a back room though. Like a champagne room. I like my pussy fresh and hot off the dance floor."

"You really need a back room for that? I'm sure you can find a corner somewhere in here." I joke.

"I'm not seventeen anymore, Rome. I stopped fucking in club corners a long ass time ago." Cutter chuckles. "So what's up with the guest list? Did you invite those models from New York? What was the blonde's name? Amy? Amelia?"

"I don't know. Jade handled all of that. I'm sure they're coming."

Cutter raises his eyebrows.

"You love model pussy. So what's up?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying, which is something you never do, so it must be serious. Therefore I'll leave your moody ass alone. Just fix your face by tonight. You look scarier than usual, and I don't want you scaring away my model pussy." He laughs.

"Shut up asshole."

***

The night couldn't be going any better than it is. That little prick Marco did something right for once and made sure to hire a few new girls that drunk ass business men like to throw money at. High tits, tight asses, flat stomachs and somewhat slutty. Perfect. They've got men buying bottles in here left and right and the bar is probably going to have its best night yet.

The set is still going on downstairs while I'm up here sitting in the VIP area with my good friend Jack Daniels. Contemplating what woman will get the fine privilege of breaking me from my Elizabeth fast. I'm not eating that pussy ever again. The problem though is that I can't make a decision. Maybe I drank too much already. Maybe I'm just tired from all the running I was doing today. I don't know what the fuck is going on, but not one of these bitches is making my dick hard.

"Hey boss man."
 

Speaking of not making my dick hard– it's Jade.
 

"What's up little nugget?"

"I really don't want to tell you this."

"So why are you? Go find some rich guy's head to play with downstairs."

"You'll fire me if I don't tell you."

"What now, Jade?"

"I've been keeping an eye on that kid like you asked me to."

Suddenly my hackles rise. I'm not going to like this shit.

"And?"

"Elizabeth's boy is definitely back in town."

"Don't call him that." I say through gritted teeth. "Has he called her yet?"

Is that what the fuck she's doing right now instead of being here with me?

"I don't think so; but I put an eagle eye on his new place, and my guy just texted me a pic. Take a look."

Jade scrolls down and enlarges a picture on her phone of a small apartment. The living room area. There isn't much to it. It's definitely a guy's place. A sofa, two chairs, a fireplace, a flat screen and a small side table, but it's the decorations that are a kick to my gut.
 

A picture of a smiling Elizabeth on the mantle of the fireplace.
 

Two pictures of Elizabeth and the dickhead together on the small table.
 

Some sort of college newspaper clipping that features Elizabeth, fucking framed, and hung on that douchebag's wall over top of the sofa.
 

"This fucker is insane!" I bellow.

"Okay, calm down, I agree. He may be off a little. I mean it isn't exactly a shrine, but he's definitely having some sort of a break with reality. Either that or maybe she's still–"

"Shut it, Jade."

"Well it's possible. I mean don't act like it's not a possibility. Without actually tapping her cell phone and shit, we don't know who she's been talking to. She could be encouraging his ass for all–"

"I know she isn't." I cut her off.

"Really? Well where is your precious Elizabeth right now? Do you know that? She sure as shit isn't here."

"She's out."

"With the little NBA brat no doubt. Into all sorts of trouble with that one."

"Probably." I take another swig of my Jack.
 

It's the only thing that can comfort me now, because I really want to hurt this Ethan kid, and it doesn't even matter that he hasn't done anything lately. Just the fact that he's breathing the same air as Elizabeth has my trigger finger itchy like a motherfucker.

Fuck it.
 

I need to find her.

***

I should have put a tail on all four of them myself.
 

Elizabeth, Ethan, Jagger and Sloan.
 

That way I would have complete control over this situation. I have never been this sloppy before in my life. If this were a client I was working, I would know everything, down to what type of toilet paper each of them fucking buys.
 

Once again I'm flying blind. I need to remember this night and make sure that I never fucking repeat it. Family or not. Girl I'm trying to impress the fuck out of or not. This sloppy shit is not me. So since I'm blind, I'm going to have to rely on my instincts. Which are good but never a sure thing.

I know girls like Sloan. I've fucked a hundred of them. They're beautiful, spoiled, and entitled. Some are social climbers, some are thrill chasers, but Sloan is a fun seeker. She just wants to party and bullshit her way through life. There are a lot of places in the city to do just that tonight, but only a few where all-black, casual attire is acceptable.
 

Elizabeth has to be in one of them.

Lucky for me, third time is the charm. I can spot that spectacular ass shaking a mile away.

"Hey, Roman." A loud, feminine voice distracts me momentarily from my mission.

"Hey." I say not paying much attention to who I'm talking to, because I'm busy watching the asshole that’s dancing with Elizabeth. He's enjoying it way too fucking much.

"It's Patricia." She says a bit indignantly. I guess I'm supposed to remember her.

"What's up Patricia?"

"You want to dance?"

"I don't dance."

"But you move so well in other places, I'm sure you can dance just as good too."
 

Patricia gives me a drunk, flirty smile, but it does nothing to ring any bells for me. I don't remember this chick. I'd probably need to see her with her clothes off from the neck down to have any recollection. And even then my memory would probably be sketchy.

"Listen darlin', I've got to handle some business right now. So you go on and ask somebody else all right?"

"Awww, don't be like that
Romeo
," she unattractively slurs.
 

Then tipsy Patricia slides her sweaty palm down my face, and I quickly swat it away like the little annoying gnat that she is. But it only takes that split second for me to lose Elizabeth in the crowd.
 

FUCK!

I start walking through the sea of bodies that are writhing to some god awful Little Wayne song and miraculously I spot the glamazon. She's flirting with some nondescript dude, so I walk up on them to get some answers.

"Glamazon."

She rolls her eyes immediately upon meeting mine.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for my cousin."

"Why? She's out with me."

I give nondescript dude one hard grit, he sizes me up, then walks his ass away.
 

"I need to talk to her."

"Oh my God, you scared my date away. Don't you have like a hundred clubs to run or men to pistol-whip? Why the hell are you bothering us?"

What has Elizabeth been telling this bitch?

"I'm going to pretend that you didn't just say some very offensive shit to me and ask you again where the fuck my cousin is."

"How should I know? Dancing no doubt. We are in a club."

Once again I try to understand why Elizabeth hangs out with her. Women are supposed to stick together in a club. Especially a grimy one like this. Any fucking thing could happen.

"Why are you such a bitch?"

"Because you are such an asshole. Every time Elizabeth talks about you she has nothing good to say. You need to stop fucking with her head."

"Whatever. Has Elizabeth mentioned anything about Ethan to you lately?"

"Why?"

She doesn't look the least surprised by my question. She knows something. I could threaten her, but that wouldn't be polite, and Elizabeth would probably never speak to me again. So since I can't have that, maybe I've got to handle this another way.

Be nice Roman.

"Elizabeth and I may argue, but she's family, and her parents would kill me if anything happened to her on my watch. Ethan put her in harms way and it wasn't that damn long ago that he did it. He's a drug addict and he's dangerous. I'm just trying to keep her safe."

I see a slight change in Sloan's facial expression.
 

"You think he's dangerous?"

Her eyes shift.

"Has she talked to him, Sloan?"

"Well no, but he called me."

"You?"

"He didn't call Bitsy, because she asked him not to contact her anymore when you guys were in the Bahamas, so he called me."