King of Pain (Lords of Las Vegas #5)

Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Kate

I wake to the smell of fresh coffee and bacon.

Sitting up, my hip twinges but it’s a manageable pain. I stretch, and then get up. There is no laundry here, and I’m running out of underwear and shirts. There is no washer. There is an old-style ringer in the shed at the back of the property or we’re heading to a laundromat.

I should have picked some up while we were in Durango.

Instead, I grab one of Luke’s T-shirts and slide it over my head, pushing my arms through the sleeves.

It falls to my mid-thighs and stretching again, I walk out of the bedroom, into the tiny hall and into the bathroom.

“Hold up,” Luke calls from the kitchen. He appears, just as I’m sticking a toothbrush into my mouth.

He stands in the doorway, not saying a word until I spit out the toothpaste and rinse my mouth. “Everything all right?” I ask, pulling my sleep-tousled hair over one shoulder.

“Dandy,” he answers, leaning against the jam. “You look amazing this morning.”

I lift my brows with a laugh. “In your giant shirt?”

“In my shirt. Yeah.” And then he reaches for me, pulling me into his arms and kissing my mouth. It’s playful and intimate as his hand creeps up into my hair, cradling my head.

“It smells like you,” I whisper against his lips as I wind my arms around his neck.

His other hand skims up the back of my thigh. “And now it’s going to smell like you. When you change, I want it back.”

Holy crap, he knows how to get me going. I lean back, my heart beginning to skip in my chest.

He kisses me again and then lets me go, pushing off the jam. “Don’t want to burn your bacon.”

“My bacon?”

“Yeah. I’d eat the burnt stuff, but you might not want yours as cooked as mine.”

I close the bathroom door and finish up, then head to the kitchen. Luke has started eggs.

I take a seat at a kitchen chair, and he hands me a cup of black coffee. Smiling, I take a sip.

“I’ll call Mason today, see if we can head back to Vegas.”

“If we don’t,” I take another sip, “I need to do some laundry.” Now that the call with Dr. Shrewsbury is done, I’m in way less of a hurry to get back. I’ve even wondered if I want to do the internship.

Do I want to be a surgeon? If I didn’t care what anyone thought of me, what would I do with my life?

I’ve been so focused on being as successful as possible, I haven’t stopped to ask questions like, what brings me joy? What do I love?

I think back to the kids we rescued on the side of the road. I liked helping them. Liked their adorable smiles and their sweet voices.

Maybe that’s where my future lies. Either way, there have been some blessings in what’s happened the past few days. One of them was meeting Luke, but the other is just taking a moment, away from the noise of life, to really think about me and what I want.

“Laundry?” he asks, quirking a brow.

“Yeah. I’m out of shirts,” I point to his.

“We can definitely take care of that.” He leans down and kisses me again, despite the coffee breath and then returns to the stove to flip the eggs. “And as much as I like having you in my shirt, when we go out, I’ve got a few more things you can wear.”

A minute later, he sets down a heaping plate in front of me. I wrinkle my nose. “How much do you think I eat?”

“I know you didn’t finish your tacos last night,” he responds, setting his own plate down, which has the same amount of food as mine.

I am not a male who needs to eat a mountain of food, and as he disappears from the room, I take some of the food from my plate and dump it on his.

He comes back, and narrows his eyes at first my plate, and then his. But he doesn’t say a word as he sets down several bags at my feet.

My food forgotten, I cock my head. “What’s all this?”

“Stuff I picked up for you in town.”

I open the first bag and pull out a Dyson hair dryer. My mouth drops open. “What is this?”

“The hair dryer in this place stinks and I know you like to dry your hair.”

“But…” I stare at the thing. I could never afford one. “These are like six hundred dollars.”

He shrugs.

How much money did Mason send him?

In the next bag are more underwear. But these are not from Walmart. It’s lace and cut to flatter, the fabric slipping through my fingers.

In the next bag are designer shirts. The kind that would look amazing on me, but I don’t ever buy because… “How much did all this cost?”

“Don’t worry,” he says, taking a big bite of eggs. “I got you.”

But that thing that’s been nagging is back and it’s biting right at the surface. “How did you get Doctor Shrewsbury to change his mind?”

Luke grimaces. “I told you.”

“No. Not really. And how…” But then, it hits me. I saw this billboard by the airport. A massive tunnel in the heart of Las Vegas was being advertised. And it was by Kincaid Enterprises.

I gasp, dropping the shirt, the garment slipping to the floor. “Construction?”

“Kate,” he says, reaching out a hand. “I am in construction.”

“Your family is building the largest construction project that Vegas has ever seen. It will bring in billions.”

He shrugs. “Actually, I’m building it.”

The blood rushes from my head, dizziness taking over. He didn’t not tell me. He said he was a Kincaid. That he was in construction, that he was the rival of Vincent and Vigo. But this is huge…

“But? Why? You should have told me. About all of this. You’re like… like… rich.”

He winces. “I kind of assumed you knew. I can’t meet anyone in Vegas who doesn’t either recognize me or my name. It was nice for you to just think of me as a regular guy. To like me for just me.”

That really makes sense. I get that. “But why didn’t you tell me yesterday? When I was freaking out about my internship why didn’t you just say ‘everyone in the world does what I ask them?’”

His grimace tells me that he’s got a reason and I’m not going to like it. But my brain is spinning now.

“Why hasn’t your family just sent a whole security detail to collect us?”

The grimace turns into a wince. “Kate.” He scrubs his hands down his face. “Try to understand.”

“I don’t. Explain it.”

“I messed up the permits.” He shakes his head. “Me and my stupid brain.”

My heart stutters in my chest.

“It’s why I was there that night. I was trying to fix my mistake. A billion dollar company about to be flushed down the toilet because I transposed a couple of dates…” I can see the anguish on his face. “It was my mistake to correct.”

I lean forward, hurting for him. But also looking for answers.

“Mason only ever brought me into the business because I was family. Because my mom raised Roman and Arabella.”

His face is twisted in pain. “Luke, you’re the strongest man I know.”

He shakes his head. “I’m worth more to my family dead than I am alive.”

Confusion makes me pull back. “What does that mean?”

His face goes slack, the color draining. “I… uh…”

“What does it mean, Luke?” My voice is loud and tight, as my hands come to the table.

“It means that blood, my blood, was found in the Vendettis’ car and…”

But suddenly it’s clear. “Do people think they killed you? Are Vincent and Vigo on the run? Is Mason afraid they’re joining Gorilla to come after us?” Fear stiffens all my muscles.

“They’re in jail.”

I blink several times, trying to clear away my confusion. “But if they’re in jail, why haven’t we gone back?” But even as I ask, I know. They’re in jail for murder. Luke can’t go back.

He’s here playing house with me, interrupting my entire life, because it’s convenient for him.

Bile rises from my stomach, up my esophagus, as my hand covers my mouth.

Did he even mean his offer to go to New York with me? I gasp in a breath, trying to clear my spinning head, as I push up from the table.

He stands too, reaching for me, but I jerk away from him, spinning and stomping into the living room.

I’m only in a T-shirt. I’m not even wearing underwear, but I grab the truck keys and the phone, sprinting out the door and down the steps.

My feet are bare, and tears are blurring my eyes, but I hear the squeak of the screen door as Luke comes out on the porch too. “Kate. Wait.”

“I can’t believe this,” I gasp, as I reach the truck and wrench open the door. “I missed my internship start date for your family’s business.”

I point an angry finger at him. “I helped you that night.”

He slowly walks down the porch. “I helped you too, love.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll always help you.”

“Except when you’re totally fucking up my life.”

My God. I am my mother after all. I found a man who selfishly blew up my entire life. I push up into the cab of the truck, jamming the key into the ignition.

“Kate. Sweetheart. You can’t go. You’re not even dressed.”

I can feel the tears welling in my eyes. Not because this is new or unexpected, but because this is old. I’ve done this before. Granted, I was next to my mother as she tossed our shit into the back of some crap car, screaming at some man before we sped away.

Jesus. I press the brake and turn the key, knowing Luke is right. How can I roll up anywhere like this?

But it’s a moot point because nothing happens.

The truck doesn’t turn over. It’s dead.