33. Knox #2
I mean, seriously, she’s trying to convince me to watch a movie about a killer turkey, pitching it under the umbrella of, “It’s so bad, it’s good,” and when a giddy pop song comes on once we enter the casino, she unapologetically sings along to it.
I’ve always found it to be one of the most annoying fucking earworms in the world, but my canary somehow manages to even make this sound good.
Because that’s what she does. She makes everything sound, taste, and look better.
She has a way of making me feel so at peace, and she doesn’t have to do anything other than be herself.
She’s disarming and feisty and making me feel less and less like the “hoodrat” everyone else keeps reminding me I am.
Is it delusional to think I deserve this girl?
Absolutely. Am I going to do everything to prove them all wrong?
Fuck yes. Because she’s the best thing that’s happened to me, period.
I don’t care that we’ve only known each other for weeks.
I fucking love her, which sounds insane even to my own ears, but all of the shit I’ve gone through suddenly seems distant.
Everything I endured brought me to her. It’s not that I’m wearing rose-colored glasses. The wounds just don’t feel as fresh.
I’m not the only one feeling that either.
Seeing as how Sebastian is already back in the picture, Anna doesn’t have to worry about the asshole tracking her down through selling the gifts he gave her, and she obviously sold something of value, because she came here with a stack of cash, all too ready to gamble it away.
Although, the universe doesn’t see things the same way.
We’ve been in the gaming hall for barely an hour when she lays down a hundred on eight at the roulette table, only for it to land on the number.
Despite her releasing a scream that could break the sound barrier, it’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
Anna damn near tackles me with a hug, bouncing all the while.
The bet wins her three and a half grand, so she decides to play it safe after that, sticking only to calling colors.
She guesses five out of the next six correctly, and despite her knowing when to step back from placing another bet, the other players refuse to let her walk away from the table.
They keep swearing she’s a good luck charm, and I can’t blame them.
I’ve always been shit when it comes to the roulette table, and even I win.
Since she’s in demand and in need of a drink, I offer to grab her something from the bar after she confirms she’ll be okay here by herself. Anna doesn’t hedge any more bets but still humors the crowd nonetheless by sticking around, cheering everybody on as I head over to grab her a pina colada.
The bar is halfway across the room, but since it’s elevated by a couple of stairs, I can still see Anna from a distance.
She’s all smiles and high spirits. Sadly, I can’t say the same about myself when a certain someone leans against the bar a few feet down for me, crooning, “Pina colada, huh? Funny, I’ve never ordered anything for my Anna Banana that isn’t a Cosmopolitan. ”
“Probably because you never bothered to ask her what she actually wanted,” I deadpan, not bothering to so much as glance at the asshole.
That doesn’t stop Sebastian from invading my personal space, moving to stand on the other side of the stool right next to me.
He leans against the countertop on his elbows, his back to the bar.
I don’t have to look at him to know he’s staring at my girl.
“She really is quite the dish, isn’t she?
Though, I can’t say you’ve been a good influence.
That dress leaves a lot to be desired and little to the imagination—something I’ll have to disabuse her of.
Can’t have her walking around on my arm looking like a ten-dollar hooker. ”
Beg his fucking pardon?
“You won’t have any arms to offer anyone if you don’t fuck off, so I kindly suggest you leave.” I try to keep my tone flat so as to not appear ruffled or pissed, but the latter is proving to be difficult.
I force myself to meet his eyes, and it’s alarming just how punchable his face is.
His teeth are too straight and perfectly uniform in a way that they can only be the result of veneers or caps.
His eyebrows are groomed, his jaw doesn’t have so much as a visible hair follicle, and his face has just enough baby fat to it that he appears younger than he is, making him look like the perfect offspring of a fucking Ken doll and the affable boy next door.
On the surface, he’s the guy women want to bring home to meet their mothers.
Sadly, he’s also the one they’ll inevitably be filing restraining orders on.
Because this fucker isn’t kidding.
He’s looking over at Anna with an expression that implies ownership, and the shit-eating smirk he gives me seals the deal. “How about I make this easy on everyone and cut you a check?”
“I don’t want your fucking money.”
“Not even half a million?”
Is he joking?
Sebastian shrugs at the look on my face, literally pulling out a checkbook from his jacket. “What about two?”
“Hate to burst your bubble here, dipshit, but Anna isn’t a fucking car. You don’t get to buy her.”
“I’m not. I’m simply paying for you to walk away.”
“You do realize she wouldn’t so much as spit on you if you were on fire, right? It doesn’t matter whether I’m in the picture or not.”
“You think I don’t know how she’s been getting by?
My gifts aren’t going to support her forever,” he chuckles.
“It’ll last even less if she goes to court with your stepmother.
You know how the elite always get away with the shit we do against your everyday Joe?
Because we have the money. We can drag things out for years, racking up legal bill after legal bill for both sides until the other guy has nothing left in his bank account to fight with.
Lillian will bankrupt our dear Anna long before she ever gets the chance to have her day in court, and don’t think the bitch won’t take pleasure in smearing Anna’s name publicly in the meantime.
The name Annaleigh Evans will become so toxic that nobody in their right mind would even entertain the idea of hiring our girl.
And what do you think she’ll do when the money runs out?
Come and slum it for good with you down in the Valley?
” He shakes his head, that shit-eating grin spreading.
“She knows you won’t be able to support her.
Hell, you’re a gutter rat who can’t even support himself.
And make no mistake, that’s what you’ll always be.
Any delusions of grandeur you have will come crashing down the second one of your little schemes goes wrong and you wind up back in prison.
All you are is a passing fancy she’s using as a literal shield.
Once her bank account dries up and she can’t find a job, she’ll come crawling back to me.
What other choice will she have? One word from me and Anna couldn’t even find a job flipping burgers.
What do you think either of your prospects will be once Lillian joins in.
You’re already unemployable, and no one’s even had to bother with a smear campaign yet. ”
“Clearly, you don’t know Anna very well, because she doesn’t need anyone to support her,” I say. “That doesn’t mean I won’t be there.”
“Yeah, well, just know I was there before you. There isn’t a single thing you’ll do to and for her that I haven’t already done.
And far better. You think this is something special?
” he says, gesturing at the room. “We already did this, at a casino in Monte Carlo, and that was after I finger-fucked her at the opera.”
My face remains a blank slate, not revealing a hint that he’s gotten to me, but it doesn’t stop the unwanted visual from forming in my head.
“It’s cute that you think you can compete.” Sebastian looks me over, smirking at my clothes. “But let’s be real here. I’m Versace, asshole. You belong in the bargain bin of a dollar store.”
“I’d say it’s also cute that you really think you still have a shot of dating her again, but it just shows you’re in desperate need of a psych evaluation.”
He’s a couple of inches shorter, and his arms are less than half the size of mine, but his arrogance is enough to fill the entire fucking room as he moves in closer to me.
“Oh, I’m not interested in dating her, and I sure as hell won’t make her my wife.
No, I’m going to ruin her so thoroughly that she’ll have no choice but to crawl back to me on her hands and knees, and the only thing she’ll ever be is my whore.
My dirty little secret that everyone knows about.
Nobody in decent society will see her as anything else, and the only money she’ll ever get is child support for the bastard children she’ll give me.
You think she’s something special now? Give it a month or a year or even ten years.
Eventually, the ground will fall out from under her, and she’ll be reduced to the same pitiful fate as so many other golddiggers.
And all the while, you’ll regret not taking me up on my offer when you had the chance. ”
As a final fuck-you, the bartender assures me my drinks have already been paid for, gesturing to Sebastian’s retreating form as he saunters out of the gaming hall.
When I return to the roulette table, I find Anna waiting for me, and she’s no longer smiling.
Fuck. She saw him.
“I take it that it’s time to leave?” she asks, already preparing to go to the cashier’s cage with her chips.
There’s no way of knowing whether Sebastian has left the casino or is just hanging out in another section of the riverboat. With the restraining order still in effect, I’m not about to take the chance of him calling the cops on us.
All I can do is nod, following after her to cash out.
She wants to know what he said, and only once we’ve made it back to the parking garage do I fill her in.
Well, mostly. I don’t elaborate on the story he mentioned about their past casino-slash-opera outing, but she puts the pieces together just fine, letting out a hollow laugh.
“Honestly, one of the reasons I wanted to come here tonight was to wash the bad taste out of my mouth. You want to know what happened in Monte Carlo?”
I want to tell her no, but I can’t bring myself to say anything or even shake my head. I can see it’s something she needs to get off her chest.
“He took me to a gorgeous city, and all I wanted to do was sightsee, but he spent most of our three-day trip in the casino trying to win back the money he lost on our first night there. It wasn’t like he needed it.
He just couldn’t stand the fact that he wouldn’t come out on top.
He always has to win. I always play it safe, so I only wound up winning about five hundred bucks at the slot machines, but he was pissed off at me for the rest of the night because he was still twenty grand in the hole and, unlike him, I hadn’t been made a fool.
“After that, whenever we went to a casino together, he always rubbed it in my face when I lost money. And again, it only pissed him off more when he realized it didn’t bother me.
As they say, ‘The House always wins.’ The second you walk through that door, you’re the underdog.
I guess I like the thrill of believing that I can win every now and again. And that’s all I’ve ever needed.”
Fuck Sebastian. He doesn’t know the first thing about her, and my girl only keeps proving that.
“So, you have a soft spot for the underdog?”
She bites her bottom lip, and fuck me sideways, I want that lip.
I want every inch of her, and I want to wipe away every last memory of that douchebag ex.
I look at the bike beside us, and Anna misses nothing.
She may not know what I have in mind, but she can tell the gears in my head have definitely gone somewhere else. “What?” she dares to ask.
Oh, my little canary, the fun I’m about to have with you…