Wicked Wish (The Wicked Horse Vegas 2) - Page 63

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“Not happy to find you here,” Micah says. There’s no anger in his voice. Just disappointment.

I don’t give a fuck, either.

“Don’t worry,” I say dryly. “I haven’t done anything. I’m still pining for your sister, after all.”

“You’re in a sex club, pining for my sister?” Micah asks in disbelief, and there’s a little bit of anger. I find I like it because this douche has ignored me for over two weeks now. “That pisses me off.”

Still don’t give a fuck.

I shrug as I shoot him a short glance, then turn back to my brooding posture. “What can I say? This is where we first came together, and where we broke up. I’m nostalgic that way.”

“Christ,” Micah mutters, and I watch from my peripheral vision as the bartender hands him his drink. He knocks it back and slides the empty glass away. “Give me another, and another for him, too.”

“Appreciate it,” I say glibly.

I ignore Micah and sip at my drink, knowing I have another waiting for me.

“Was Jorie just sex to you?” Micah asks out of the blue, and mission accomplished… he gets an immediate rise out of me.

I twist my neck to look at him and grit out. “If you listened to my fucking voice mails, you’d know that’s not true.”

“And yet, here you sit in a sex club,” he says with a sneer.

“True,” I tell him nonchalantly, as I turn back to my drink. “But without a hard-on.”

“Not tempted in any way?” he presses, and my anger explodes.

I turn my entire body on the stool and lean aggressively toward him. “What the fuck do you want, Micah? Because you made it clear how you feel about Jorie and me, and I don’t fucking feel like hearing more shit about it. I did what you asked. I stayed away from your sister. Now you can stay the fuck away from me, and it’s all good. Everybody’s happy.”

Micah just blinks at me. I wait a moment to make sure he understands me, and then I turn back to my drink.

“Jorie’s not happy,” Micah says softly.

I snort and bob my head. “No shit, Dick Tracy.”

“You’re not happy,” he says.

I don’t respond. That’s evident.

“I’m not happy.”

“Don’t give a fuck about that one,” I mutter.

This so called best friend sitting beside me made me give up the one thing in life I loved, but didn’t give me the common decency to talk it through.

Micah leaves me alone for a few minutes, and I just start to relax again in my buzzed misery when he says, “She went back to L.A. She’s back with Vince.”

A wave of despair hits me, making it clear I could feel worse than I did two seconds ago. This is followed by a wave of fury so powerful, I feel like I could kill Micah because this now rests squarely on his fucking shoulders.

To spare him my rage, I merely pick up my money and push from the barstool. Without a word and figuring this is the last time I’ll ever see Micah, I turn my back on him and mutter, “I’m out of here.”

Shoving my money down into my pocket, I head toward the door.

“Walsh,” Micah calls.

I ignore him and make my way out of The Silo. Down the hall to the Social Room, and down the elevator and out of The Onyx Casino. It was a mistake coming here as there’s nothing really left here for me.

The distance from Micah does nothing to cool my anger. How dare he fucking show up in my life and act concerned about everyone’s happiness? How dare he fucking throw at me that she’s with Vince, because all that means to me is it’s too late with Jorie?

Fucking dude’s got balls. I should have knocked the bastard out.


I start walking aimlessly down the street. Turning to look over my shoulders, I see him hurrying after me.

I ignore him, but when his hand lands on my shoulder, the fury erupts.

I turn and throw a roundhouse punch that connects so solidly, he goes careening to the wall of The Onyx. He starts to sag, and I have a moment of pure vindication.

Turning my back on him, I start walking away, but he’s not finished.

“Walsh… you have to go after her,” Micah calls out. By the wet sound of his words, I know his mouth is filled with blood. That makes me feel good.

“Walsh,” Micah calls again, and it’s in pure desperation. I falter in my steps. “She loves you still. Not Vince. Please don’t throw her away because I was a fucking douche about this.”

My feet plant and refuse to take another step. I turn back to look at him hesitantly. He’s leaning against the wall with blood streaming from the corner of his mouth.

Yeah… that still makes me feel good.

But I walk the few steps back to him and say, “Talk.”

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