Page 128 of Heart Over Heels

“Let me be straight with you, Luxe,” Vaughn growled. “You dragged me out of my room at half past midnight, and you’ve caused a bit of a scene. I’m willing to overlook it. Indulge it, even. But…”

His gaze drifted aside and settled heavily on the dolls. My little family looked so small from here. Weak and worn thin.

I’d done my best to shield them from the desk clerk’s scrutiny, but Vaughn’s inspection was impossible to block.

“Maybe your whores could put on a little show here, hmm?” he mused. “We have a stage. I assume those outfits come off?”

For a moment, I could only gawk. Then anger rose like a tide and carried me out to sea.

“No.” I yanked my arm free.

Vaughn balked. “No?”

“No.”

He laughed like my refusal was comedy. “Come on, sweetheart, you have to give a little.”

Give. Give. Give.

I was so goddamn tired of giving.

I was tired of this life.

And this endless day.

And all the transactional bullshit that left me bankrupt.

I loved expensive things. I lovedbeingexpensive. But people bought me with money. With empty hotel rooms and equally empty promises. They got off cheap.

I jabbed a finger toward my boys—Oz, Elliot, Colt, Callum, and Zephyr. My kids, because Iwasa mother in all the ways that mattered.

“You want them to dance?” I snapped. “Ask them yourself. But I won’t. I…” My breath snagged on a sob and left me gasping. “They’ve… we’ve…”

Whatever tenuous thing had been holding me together finally broke, and my next words ripped out of me, echoing past the dolls and the desk clerk and all the way out onto the casino floor.

“Fuck you, Vaughn.”

The other man blinked, baffled and turning blotchy with rage. “Excuse me?”

“Fuckyou,” I repeated. “Fuck off, and go fuck yourself, because I’m not going to. And I’m not staying here either. None of us are. You can keep it.” I swept my hand in a gesture to the lobby around us and the rooms above. “All of it.”

Vaughn’s face creased with lines that pulled his mouth into a snarl. “Your manager will hear about this,” he seethed.

I grinned, a wild sort of smirk, then replied. “Iamthe manager, jackass.”

Spinning on my heel, I stormed off, arms spread wide as I ushered the dolls back the way we’d come. They moved, stumbling and uncertain, but while they were unsure, I wasn’t.

I knew exactly what I wanted and where I could get it, but the Boulevard bus wouldn’t take us there. This trip required a cab. A big one. Preferably with a driver who could be paid in cash.

Machines rang and poker chips clattered as we pushed across the gaming floor. I forged ahead to lead the pack and Elliot surged forward to fall into stride beside me. His posture was its usual sulky slump, hands in his pockets and shoulders curled in, but his eyes were sharp as he turned them on me.

“That was real inspiring and shit,” he muttered. “But where the fuck are we going now?”

Another smile curved my lips—less feral, more profound—and I answered.

“Home.”

CHAPTER