Deadly Odds (30 page)

“Kent,” Mrs. Miller said. “Please.”

“Shut up!”

Ross glanced at her, patted one hand in the air, silently asking her to butt the hell out.

She sat back and her son glanced at Kate, then to Ross. His eyes had a look to them. Focused yet fuzzy.

Coming apart.

Desperate.

“Kent,” Ross said, his voice more stern, “if we all walk out of here, I can help you. Trust me on that.”

His shoulders dipped, just a half inch and the gun wobbled, his hand trembling just enough to be dangerous.

Kate leaped in the air, diving, and Ross charged, both of them heading straight for Miller. Kate landed first, blasting him from behind, knocking him forward as she lost her footing and stumbled. Ross kept his eyes on that gun.

Boom.

Mrs. Miller screamed and a whizzing noise cruised by Ross’s right ear and his heart damn near exploded, the blood rush so intense it blurred his vision.

He reached Miller in two steps, grabbed the barrel of the gun with one hand, the slide with the other, twisting hard. The gun, along with Miller’s finger jerked sideways and with any luck that digit was broken.

Miller howled, loosened his grip on the gun, but drove his body into Ross, knocking the weapon free. It fell to the floor and Ross kicked it. Sent it sailing a few feet.

Then he went to work. Pounding on Miller, a punch to the gut, the cheek, the gut again.

“Ooff.”

“No!” Mrs. Miller shouted. “Please! No!”

Miller’s body flew backward, his arms windmilling. A side table broke his momentum. He went over, taking the lamp with him and it shattered against one of the table legs. Shards of glass flew, covering the carpet like tiny ice picks.

Blood spurted from Miller’s nose, dripped down the side of his face and he leaped up, swung wildly, his fist connecting with Ross’s shoulder, but bouncing off.

Ross hit him again. An uppercut square to the underside of his jaw and Miller’s eyes rolled.

“Hold it,” Kate hollered.

Ross bounced on his toes, his breaths coming fast and hard. He kept his hands up, ready to strike.

“Ross! Back!”

Kate slid sideways, into view, holding Miller’s own weapon at the man’s chest. “Hands out. Now. Don’t make me shoot you.”

He glared at her, those angry eyes still burning and Ross stepped closer.

Miller swung a look at him, then to Kate. Then the gun.

“Please, Kent,” his mother said, her voice shattered worse than the damned lamp.

And something in his eyes changed. The acceptance.

The surrender.

Ross stepped back, hands still twitching, the last of the adrenaline rush fading as relief took hold.

Kate motioned with her head. “Sit. Next to your mother. Ross, back up. And call 911.”

* * *

While Ross was busy fielding questions from the FBI, the local police, the Gaming Commission, his boss and the press, Kate went to her suite to start packing.

Whatever the hell had gone on here this week, she didn’t quite have a handle on. She knew parts of it. The parts about Mr. Miller running a cheating ring that had bilked casinos out of millions. The part about Mark Blazedon flipping a Dominion dealer after catching him doing a false shuffle during an undercover operation.

Now Mark and the dealer were dead, and Kate had been on the list as well.

And it wasn’t exactly a mystery who’d been behind it.

That’s what she currently knew. Later, she’d get the rest. From Don or her boss or Angel.

For now, her head, her back, her cheek, every bit ached and she needed out of this casino. Away from the chaos and the noise and the physical and emotional warfare it had inflicted. A dead colleague, a battered body and a broken heart.

Great week so far.

She zipped her suitcase just as someone knocked.

Damn
. She strode to the door, still deciding on whether to answer or not and checked the peep.

Ross.

So much for a clean getaway. But running never accomplished anything.

Might as well face it now. Let it be done.

She swung the door open, stood there, staring at the man who’d broken her heart and saved her life.

Somehow she’d have to reconcile the two.

Later.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.” She waved him in. “Come in.”

“How’s the cheek? It’s starting to bruise.”

“It’s fine. Hurts a little.”

He entered the suite, spotted her zipped suitcase on the bed. “You leaving already?”

Could he be that shocked? After everything they’d been through this week?

She nodded. “I am. Now that we know who your cheat is, I don’t need to be here 24/7. And, frankly, I need to get out of here. Take a few days off. Rest.”

His bottom lip rolled halfway as he considered her words.

“Understandable. Can I drive you? You shouldn’t drive.”

“No. I’m good. I just—” she flapped her arms. “I need to go. I’m tired and…strung out.”

And confused.

He shoved his hands into his pants pockets, made a shrugging motion. “So, that’s it then? Between us?”

If only it were that easy. “I’m not sure where we go from here. You thought I betrayed you and didn’t give me an opportunity to explain myself.
You
thought I deliberately sabotaged you. Not exactly a strong base for a relationship.”

“You’re right about that. I was an idiot. World-class. From the beginning you told me your career was important to you. At every turn you reminded me. And then you kept things from me. It looked…bad.”

“I didn’t—”

“—I was stupid. Too stupid to slow down and think it through. I got caught up. In my feelings. And that was new to me. All of it. For years, I’ve known exactly where I was going and what I had to do. Until you walked into my casino. It’s not an excuse.” He shrugged. “An explanation maybe. I was wrong. I should have trusted you.”

Yes. He should have. Unforgiving? Perhaps. But this was not a way to start a relationship. Not in her mind anyway. “That’s not all of it. You know it’s not. Ross, I don’t know how to make this work. We want different things. Your life is here. You thrive on chaos. I don’t. Right now, all I want is the quiet of my parents’ ranch. To eat my mom’s cinnamon rolls and curl up in front of a fire with a book. I don’t fit into this life. And you won’t fit into mine. I’m leaving. Before we get too deep into this and realize we can’t make it work. I’ve been there. I lost years in a high-functioning relationship that should have worked but didn’t. I won’t lose years again. I can’t do it.”

He pulled his hands from his pockets, flopped them out and stepped toward her. “Kate—”

She backed up, out of his reach, glanced at the bed and her zipped suitcase. Time to go. “Don’t.” She faced him again, looked right into his eyes, that incredible deep brown she’d remember forever. “I need to go, Ross. Give it a few days, you’ll realize we’ll both be better off.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Kid, you’re an asshole.”

Tell him something he didn’t know.

Ross glanced up from his computer, found Don striding toward the desk and his shoulders sagged. Only ten o’clock and already fatigue had set in. Now he had to deal with Don too?

“What am I an asshole about now?”

“Three days you been moping around. What the hell’s wrong with you?”

I’m an asshole.

For a man who considered himself adept at leaving relationships amicably, Ross had sure blown this one. Not only hadn’t he wanted to leave the relationship, he made sure there’d be no civility.

No wonder Kate left without even flipping him the bird. The way he’d acted, even that wasn’t worth her time.

But, maybe they
were
better off. She was right. They were different. Wanted different things and different lifestyles. Him on a ranch?

Not likely.

Still, when it came down to it, this soul crushing misery, this…agony…hanging on him these last few days didn’t bolster that argument. He missed her. Three days?

Felt like ten years.

“Save it, old man. Whatever you have to say, I’ve told myself a hundred times.”

“Then what are you doing sitting here, being a crabby pain in the ass? Go find her.”

“She doesn’t want me to.”

“Oh, boo-hoo. Poor baby got his ego whipped.” Don waved him off. “You’re an asshole.”

Ross rocked back in his chair and laughed. Couldn’t help it. “What do you want from me? Want me to drive up to her family’s ranch and force myself on her? That’d be a great way to meet her parents.”

“Well, it’d be a lot better than this. I mean, one thing about you, kid, you’ve never sat around while life passed you by. Go after her.”

“No. She was clear on what she wanted. And it’s not me.”

What he needed was to get back on his game. Get back to the old Ross Cooper. Gaming’s golden boy.

Nothing leveled gaming’s golden boy.

Plus, timing being what it was, he had his friends showing up the following day. Wanting a party.

Again, something that, a week ago would have cured any ailment he had.

Now? Exhausted. Too exhausted to enjoy the good life of a thirty-four year old bachelor in Vegas. Unbelievable.

How the hell did things get so twisted?

Don propped his hands on his hips. “If you’re not gonna call her, I will. You know me, always looking for wife number four.”

“
That’s
not happening.”

“Then get off your ass. Don’t be like me. Don’t give your life to this business. It’ll tear you up and thirty years from now you’re gonna look back on three marriages and wonder if it was all worth it. Trust me, it’s not. I got high blood pressure that could kill me any day and an empty house to go home to. That sound like fun to you?”

Ross shook his head. “I get it, but”—he pointed to his mouth, —“read my lips.
She doesn’t want to talk to me.
”

Don stepped closer to the desk, dropped a folded note on it. “That’s for you. In case you want to turn back into the man I know. If not, then I don’t want to know you.”

Well, shit.

He picked up the note. “What is it?”

“The address where she is. I called in a few markers. Do yourself and the rest of us a favor and find her. Don’t be stupid.”

Don walked out and Ross swiveled his chair, faced the security monitors lining the wall. Below him, a packed casino—his responsibility—generated millions in revenue. For years, he’d hungered for it. The rush of gaming. The chaos. How many nights had he sat in his office, here and at Dominion, watching the casino floor, anticipating his nightly walk-thru. The backslapping and schmoozing.

The party.

Plenty of nights. And he’d loved it. Thrived on it.

Until Kate crashed into his world.

Now?

Empty.

His phone bleeped. “Ross?” Marcia said. “I have Bob for you.”

Bob. Probably wanting an update on anything and everything. Well, he’d get it. While Ross drove to Kate’s. For once, his job needed to come second.

He stood, snatched up Kate’s address and his car keys.

“Tell him I’ll call him back in a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

“And Marcia? I’m going out.”

“Where are you going?”

“It’s personal.”

A brief hesitation. “Personal? You’re not telling me? What am I supposed to do with that?”

Ross smiled. “Nothing, I suppose. If you need me, you can reach me on my cell. Or better yet, go home. Take the rest of the day off.”

Before she could respond, he killed the intercom connection and marched out of his office. At the doorway, he stopped, realized he’d forgotten his suit jacket and turned back. There it was, hanging in the partially open closet, still in pristine condition. He’d left the closet door open. Huh.

Well, screw it. If his current predicament were any indication, maybe he needed to lighten up. Not be so obsessive about order and control.

Yeah. That’s what he’d do.

He reached up, hooked a finger into the knot of his tie and tugged, loosening it.

He never did like the damned things. While he walked, he gave it another tug and then, unknotted it, sliding it off.
What the hell.

Marcia gave him a look like Freddie Krueger had just burst in. “What are you doing?”

“Taking my tie off.”

“Why?”

“Because I think I hate them.”

“You do?”

He laughed and dumped it on her desk. “Go home, Marcia.”

“Call Bob.”

He waggled his phone. “Doing it now.”

On his way to find Kate.

* * *

Early afternoon sun washed over the roof of the barn, and Kate soaked in the warmth and fresh air of a seventy-five degree day.