Page 18 of Road to Ruin
“What the fuck?” I groan. “I am fucking hallucinating right now.”
“She’s acting,” David whispers. “You know she is. If she came out here terrified and afraid, looking like she needs rescuing, you know what Alex would do. He would lose his fucking mind.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Even I can hear how unconvinced I sound, though. I’ve seen fake happiness before. I know what that looks like on Genevieve, and that’s not what this is. This is something else, and it’s making me really fucking uncomfortable.
Alex escorts Genevieve to her seat on the end of the row, and then he sits himself down in between her and West. The four of them up there look imposing to say the least. Like true royalty, presiding over their people. My left eye begins to twitch. I want to fucking kill him. Genevieve’s always been such a strong, fiercely independent, free-willed woman. I always used to feel sorry for the guys she dated; she was a hellcat, always only a second away from exploding if they did or said the wrong thing, which was often. To see her looking at Bastien with such fawning adoration in her eyes makes me feel like I don’t know her anymore.
“Not much chance of us catching her eye right now,” David says. “She’s not even looking out at the crowd.”
It’s true. She leans toward Alex, cupping her hand over her mouth as she says something to him, and he nods, head bowed, smiling. I think I’ve slipped into an alternate universe; it’s the only explanation for this fucking weird turn of events.
David looks like he’s going to throw up. “He leaves her alone when the fights are finished,” he says. “Not for long. Just while he announces the winner and lords himself over everyone. We’ll have to try and—”
Suddenly, Alex is on his feet, bristling, his eyes wide, his hands clenching into fists. Genevieve slams herself back into her chair, visibly frightened for the first time since she walked out onto the dais. Her hand flutters to the base of her throat, her chest rising and falling rapidly. The change of atmosphere inside the vault is instant; charged excitement and anticipation turns to muted fear in less than a heartbeat. A thick silence falls over the mass of people surrounding us, and my body begins to vibrate. He’s seen us. He’s fucking seen us. We’re going to have to fight our way to Genevieve, then fight our way out of here. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time. I’m probably going to die, and that’s okay. If it means that David and Gen get the hell out of here unscathed, then it’s a price I’m willing to pay. I’m about to start pushing my way forward through the crowds to meet Alex head-on, when he opens his mouth and speaks.
“What the fuck is this? Who allowed a woman on the fight floor?” He stabs a finger into the air, and it takes a beat for me to realize he’s not pointing it at me. He’s gesturing toward the back of the room, near the entrance. In unison, the crowd turns to look over their shoulders, and sure enough, there, at the very back of the room, halfway down the wide stairway that leads down from the Bastien vault, a woman stands on her own.
I know her immediately. I know her, because I’ve been thinking about her all fucking day—the angry therapist from the prison. I haven’t been able to stop replaying the defiant flash in those remarkable eyes of hers, or the sharp words she threw at me. I’ve been turned on all day because of her, and now here she is, in a place she most definitely should not be. Her hair is tied back into a ponytail, and the fancy shirt and linen pants are gone, replaced with jeans and a black, low cut shirt, but it’s her.
It was a shock to see Genevieve down here even though David swore she would be. Alex’s rules are simple: there are to be no women on the fight floor, unless he’s brought them as his guests. In all the time I fought down here, I can only recall perhaps two or three occasions where he actually did bring one of the women he was sleeping with along with him. Under no circumstances are any of the spectators allowed to bring a female along when they come to watch a match. Even trying to bring a girl down here would be enough to get them banned from attending the events for life, and that would be getting off light. More likely, they’d lose a thumb or a couple of toes for even trying something so reckless and stupid.
“Well this isn’t going to end well,” David murmurs.
Alex Bastien—tall, broad, dark hair slicked back, suit immaculate as ever—sighs heavily. The room is packed between the dais and the stairs, but his voice carries perfectly across the deathly silent space. “What are you doing here?” he says calmly.
Nikita raises her head rebelliously, squaring her shoulders. “I came to see you,” she says.
“Bullshit.”
On the dais, West and Vaughn are smiling identical, warped smiles. They look deranged. Evil. West gets to his feet and clears his throat. “Good to see you, Nikita. Been a long time.”
Nikita gracefully bows her head for a second. “It has. Though…” She glances at Alex. “Doesn’t feel like long enough, does it?”
Alex’s eyes are narrowed into a thoughtful expression. He’s trying to decide if this woman poses a threat to him. I know this because I know Alex, and I know precisely how his mind works. He’s trying to figure out if he needs to kill this woman on the spot for wandering into his den of inequity. He scratches at his jaw, his eyes flashing with malice. “You’d do well to remember why we haven’t seen each other in so long, Nikita.”
The woman doesn’t flinch. “Oh, I remember all right. I’m not likely to forget.”
Wait. They know each other? Sounds like they really know each other. There’s bad blood between the two of them, that much is clear. I never saw her or heard him mention her when I worked for him, though. He must have been keeping her under wraps.
“I can’t imagine why you thought it would be a good idea to show up here,” Alex growls. “Honestly, you’re lucky you’re still even permitted to live in this city. Knowing you’re out there, breathing the same air as me and mine has given me cause for concern on more than one occasion, I’ll admit.”
“Don’t worry. I only came to offer you my congratulations.” Her gaze flickers to her left, landing on Genevieve. “I heard you got married.”
Genevieve smiles. She stands up, her eyes skating nervously around the room. Carefully she places a hand lightly on Alex’s shoulder. “Well I for one think it’s lovely that an old friend has come to celebrate with us, Alex. Don’t you?”
“Oh, she ain’t his friend, honey,” Vaughn says, laughing flatly. “Nikita was our big brother’s first love. She dated him way back when. They were teenagers. Can’t have seen each other in nearly ten years, right, Alex?”
“Shut your mouth, Vaughn.”
Vaughn stops laughing. His expression dissolves, leaving behind a blank, unreadable mask. I think I see a glimmer of anger in his eyes, but it vanishes so quickly that it’s hard to be sure.
“You’d better leave,” Alex says to Nikita. “This isn’t an appropriate place for you.”
“Are you going to have me removed?” Nikita’s head tilts to one side. “Because I just paid a hundred bucks to an octogenarian to watch a fight. I’m damned if I’m not going to get my money’s worth.”
“Just let her stay, Alex,” Genevieve says. “She’s not doing any harm.”
“Give her a minute,” Alex snaps. “She generally needs a little time to warm up.”
