Ruin, Page 2

  “I’d listen to her, if I were you.”

  Handsy Asshole lets go of my wrist and spins around to face the voice that just sent chills down my back. And not the good kind of chills.

  My eyes cut up and over the head of Handsy Asshole, and for the first time in five years, I stare into the eyes of Zeus Kincaid.

  The cheating bastard and heartless son of a bitch who walked away from me and his unborn child.

  Ah, fuck to the hell no.

  The shock of seeing him after all this time has his name rushing out of my lungs. “Zeus.”

  “Hi, Dove.” His familiar deep voice saying the nickname he gave me all those years ago elicits a thousand memories. Good and bad.

  I used to love it when he called me Dove.

  Now, I hate it.

  He called me it from the moment we met. Said I was like a dove. Beautiful and fragile. With my fight hidden inside me.

  And, as time went on, Zeus said I was his peace in the chaos that was his life. I was his little dove.

  And I believed him.

  Until he decided he no longer needed his dove, and he stripped me of my wings and left me to die.

  But I didn’t die, and I got my wings back, too.

  So, fuck you, Zeus.

  “Hey…I know you.” Handsy Asshole stares up at Zeus, pointing his finger at him.

  Handsy isn’t small by any means of the word. Probably about five-eleven at a guess, but Zeus is bigger. Half a foot bigger to be exact. Six foot five and built of solid muscle.

  And that’s why he’s the current heavyweight champion boxer of the world. That, and his God-given talent to hurt people. Most of the time, he doesn’t even have to hit people to hurt them.

  I’m living proof right here.

  “Yeah, I know you. You’re Zeus Kincaid, right? Holy shit! You are! I can’t fucking believe it! Zeus fucking Kincaid. Dude, you’re amazing! I won two Gs on your last fight. Hey, can I get a picture? My buddies aren’t gonna believe this!”

  Tearing my eyes from Zeus, I don’t wait around to listen to his response. I use it as an opportunity to get the hell out of there.

  Moving swiftly, I push up to stand, and I run down the steps off the podium. I quickly start making my way through the crowd, heading straight for the staff room.

  My heart is pounding, my mind racing, and my feet can’t move fast enough to get me out of there and away from Zeus.

  I can’t believe he’s here.

  I’m about ten steps away from the staff door, almost home free, when a hand curls around my biceps, bringing me to a stop.

  I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.

  I tilt my face in Zeus’s direction, tipping my head back to stare up into his face. I’m five nine—five eleven in my boots. Not short for a woman, but Zeus has always made me feel small.

  I used to love that feeling.

  Now, I hate it.

  “What are you doing here?”

  What am I doing here? That’s it? That’s all he has to say to me after five years of silence?

  Not, Did we have a boy or a girl? Or, How is my kid doing?

  God, I hate him.

  I stare at him, wondering how I ever loved this man.

  Zeus was always beautiful; there’s never been any doubt about that. In the early days of his career, the press dubbed him The Pretty Boy of Boxing. I remember how much he hated that nickname. Nowadays, they call him The God.

  I think he’s The Devil.

  But he’s no longer the pretty-boy beautiful he was back then.

  Now, he’s ruggedly handsome. Even with the too-many-times broken nose and the scar that cuts through his eyebrow. I remember the fight in which he got that scar. It was over me. He still has his trademark stubble on his cheeks, which I know is actually softer to the touch than it looks. And his dark hair, which he always wore shaved, is now styled—still short at the sides but longer on top.

  And his eyes…they were the first things I noticed about him. If I had to give them a color, I’d say azure. The bluest of blue. Eyes with the depths of the ocean. You stare into them, and they give away nothing but make you feel everything.

  He might be physically stunning to look at, but inside of him is a totally different story.

  He steps closer. His scent washes over me—familiar yet unfamiliar. He’s changed his aftershave. He always used to wear Burberry Touch. It was my favorite aftershave. I used to buy it for him.

  I guess he rid himself of everything that was me.

  Including his child.

  Something akin to a knife sticks in my heart.

  “Dove, I asked you a question. What are you doing here?” His grip on my arm increases, his brows pulling together in frustration.

  I see a hint of anger in his eyes. And it sparks me back to life.

  He has the gall to demand an answer from me after what he’s done?

  Fuck. That.

  I want to spit on him in disgust. But I don’t. I keep my dignity—unlike the last time we spoke five years ago.

  I fill my eyes with the contempt I feel for him, years’ worth of hate and anger, and I grind out, “Don’t call me that. My name is Cam. And what do you think I’m doing? I’m working, asshole.”

  I yank my arm from his hand and hurry to the staff room door. I punch in the code on the keypad, unlocking the door. I rush through it, letting it close behind me, to the sound of his voice calling my name.

  Hands still shaking, I turn the key in the ignition, and my Toyota comes to life. Halsey’s “Eyes Closed” bleeds out of the stereo. I drive out of the club’s staff parking lot and start the hour journey home to Port Washington—to the home I share with Gigi and Aunt Elle. Technically, I still live at home, as it’s Aunt Elle’s house.

  Aunt Elle moved to Port Washington from Coney Island when she got promoted to detective and was given a post at the precinct there. She could’ve commuted, but it seemed pointless, as I wasn’t living at home anymore. I was at Juilliard and living in New York at the time.

  But, when I found myself pregnant and alone, going to live with Aunt Elle was the only option. And, honestly, I was glad not to have to go back to Coney Island. The place held nothing but memories of Zeus and our relationship there. Also, I didn’t want to risk running into any of his family there either.

  So, Port Washington was my new start. And life has been working out pretty well for me—well, up until a short time ago, that is.

  I left work early. I had to get out of that place. So, I told my boss I was sick, and I needed to go home.

  I couldn’t risk going back out into the club and seeing Zeus again.

  Seeing him after all these years…it’s knocked me on my ass.

  And the fact that he tried to talk to me…I just don’t get it.

  He’d made it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing to do with Gigi or me all those years ago, so why did he now come over to me and try to speak to me?

  I’m just relieved that I won’t have to see him again. I’m going to quit my job. He probably won’t show his face at the club again, but I don’t want to take the chance. My emotions can’t take it.

  I feel…I don’t know how I feel. Angry. Hurt. Angry. Frustrated. Did I mention angry?

  I’ll just get another job at another club. It’s not my main source of income anyway. I have a day job. I work admin at the police station.

  I got the job at the club, so I could keep dancing. I put the money I earn into a savings account for Gigi for when she’s older to pay for college or dance school, whichever she chooses. She’s got the dance bug like her mama. And I know I’m biased, but she’s good.

  So, leaving there won’t be the end of the world.

  Seeing Zeus again would be.

  The whole of my journey home is spent having internal arguments with myself.

  Part of me thinks I should have said more to Zeus tonight. That I should have said all the things I wanted to say to him five years ago but never got the chance. The sma
rt side of me knows that I did the right thing, walking away and not looking back. But…I don’t know.

  I just know I want to get home and hug my daughter.

  It hasn’t been long since I passed the Welcome to Port Washington sign when red and blue lights flash in my rearview.

  Flicking on my turn signal, I slow my car down and pull over to the side of the road.

  “If this is one of the guys screwing around, I’m gonna be pissed,” I mutter to myself.

  I could really do without this tonight.

  I glance in my rearview, and in the dark, I see the officer getting out of his car and walking toward mine.

  I definitely wasn’t speeding. I know that for a fact. But, if I did do something wrong, trust me, being the niece of Detective Reed won’t get me out of a ticket. Not that I’ve tried to play that card.

  Okay, well, maybe I have once or twice. But it’s never worked.

  I roll my window down and wait to see who it is. I know all the cops in this town. I’ve lived here for close to five years, but working at the station and having my aunt on the force mean I’ve gotten to know all the cops.

  “You’re heading home early. Everything okay?”

  I know that voice, and it brings a smile to my lips. Something I didn’t think could happen tonight.

  Rich Hastings is a guy I date. Well, maybe date is the wrong word. We hang out…in bed together. Sometimes, in his shower. Or on his kitchen table. Anyway, you get the picture.

  I’m not looking for a relationship, and neither is Rich.

  After getting burned by Zeus, letting a guy into my life, and Gigi’s, is not something I want to do.

  Gigi thinks that Rich is just a guy Mommy works with. And he is. We also just happen to get naked together, too.

  What I have with Rich works. We’re on the same page. Sex, no strings. We have good chemistry. The sex is great. He’s a nice guy. He makes me laugh. We have fun together.

  I tip my face up to him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just felt a bit tired, so I left early.”

  He leans down and puts his forearms on my car door, and I stare at his lovely face.

  Rich is hot. Not Zeus hot. I don’t think anyone could be. Zeus is on a different level to all other men. I hate that.

  But Rich is attractive in that all-American-boy kind of way. The exact opposite of Zeus. Blond hair. Green eyes. Six-two. Used to play college basketball. Athletic…hot. And he wears a uniform, so…you know, hot.

  Rich’s eyes go down and widen as he takes in my outfit, which is showing beneath my open coat.

  I have to stifle a laugh. Men are so easy.

  I didn’t change out of my club clothes and into normal clothes like I usually do before heading home. I was in a rush to leave because of Zeus.

  My club outfit consists of white PVC go-go boots, a hot-pink bandeau top, and matching hot pants. The outfits that the club has us wear don’t leave much to the imagination.

  “Nice outfit,” he drawls. His dilated eyes land on my lips first and then on my eyes. “Why haven’t I seen that one before?”

  “Because you’ve never been to the club.”

  “Ah. My error. One I need to rectify immediately.”

  I laugh, but I don’t really feel it, and I know exactly why.

  Zeus.

  Fucking Zeus.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  Rich cups my cheek in his hand, and I appreciate the warmth it brings.

  I’ve been filled with so many different emotions since seeing Zeus—most of them bad—that I feel cold inside. I didn’t realize just how cold until Rich put his hand on me.

  Sometimes, it’s the simplest of touches that can make you feel better. Well, maybe not better. I don’t think I’ll feel better for a while after running into Zeus tonight.

  “I’m sure.” I smile.

  He brushes his thumb over my lips. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he says tenderly.

  “I know. I’ve been busy with Gigi starting pre-K and work and life…”

  “How’s Gigi handling pre-K?”

  “You know Gigi.” I smile wide at the thought of my baby girl. “Nothing fazes her. She has the confidence of a seasoned performer.”

  “I wonder where she gets that from.” He grins.

  “I’ve no idea.” I innocently flutter my lashes.

  Rich chuckles and then leans in, gently kissing me on the lips.

  It’s sweet. It’s nice.

  He’s not Zeus.

  “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs.

  “You mean, you’ve missed being inside me.”

  He smiles against my mouth. “You could say that. When can I see you next?”

  “How does Wednesday night sound? I’ll ask Aunt Elle to watch Gigi.”

  “Wednesday sounds far away, but I’ll take it.” He leans back. “Guess I’m gonna be spending some more time with Rosie Palm and her five sisters.” He grins, waving his palm at me, and I chuckle.

  “You’re a good-looking guy, Rich. I’m sure you’re not wanting for women.”

  I don’t know why I said that.

  In the time we’ve been sleeping together, I’ve never asked Rich to be exclusive with me. It would be unfair when I can’t give him a lot of my time. But I’ve also never asked him about other women either.

  Why would I say that now?

  I know why.

  Zeus.

  The cheating, abandoning asshole has thrown me off-kilter.

  Rich’s brow goes up, and he leans his arms back on my window. “You saying you want me to sleep with other women?”

  I think on that. I wouldn’t say the thought of him with other women makes me explosive with jealousy, but it also doesn’t make me feel particularly good either.

  I shake my head, and he smiles.

  “Do I need to be asking about other guys?”

  That makes me laugh. “I barely have time for myself, so…no, you don’t have to ask about other guys.”

  Except for the one I saw tonight.

  Rich doesn’t know who Gigi’s father is. Only a few people do. And it’s going to stay that way.

  “I should take you out on a date.”

  That takes me aback. What is it with men and them shocking the shit out of me tonight?

  “No, you shouldn’t.”

  My smile is tight, and he nods in understanding.

  He pushes back off my car, standing up straight. “Wear that on Wednesday.” His eyes flick down to my outfit.

  “Only if you wear that.” I tip my head at his uniform.

  “You got a deal.” He steps back from my car. “See you Wednesday, Cam.”

  “See you. Oh, and, Rich, have your handcuffs at the ready, too.” I give him a sexy smile.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He winks and tips an imaginary hat at me.

  I pull my car off the side of the road, a smile on my face. Then, the damn radio decides to play Rihanna’s “Umbrella,” and the smile slides off my face as I’m catapulted back nine years.

  Nine Years Ago

  “Excuse me.”

  I feel a tap on my shoulder and glance over to see a group of three girls standing behind me in line for the Ferris wheel.

  They look my age. And they’re cute and pretty in that dainty way I’ll never be. I’m tall for my age, all long legs and arms. Perfect for ballet. Not so perfect for a teenager desperate to fit in.

  Wanting to make new friends in this place I’ve just moved to, I smile and say, “Hi. Everything okay?”

  One of them, who I’m guessing is the leader of the group, steps forward a little, closer to me. “Are you going on this alone?”

  My cheeks heat. Because I am going on the ride alone. Not because I’m a total loser, but because we just moved to Coney Island from Baltimore. My aunt Elle is a police officer, and she got offered a promotion, so that brought us here. I’d lived in Baltimore my whole life, so moving has taken a little getting used to. Okay, a lot getting used to. But Aunt Elle has done
so much for me, raising me after my mom died when I was three, so when she told me about the promotion, I told her to go for it.

  She’s at work now, which is why I thought I’d come out and explore my new home instead of sitting at the house, checking Facebook for what my friends back home were doing.

  So, of course, I came to the famous fair. And I’m a sucker for the Ferris wheel. Hence, why I’m in line to ride.

  “Yes. I’m new to town. I don’t know anyone here,” I tell her by way of explanation, partly hoping she’ll invite me to join them on the ride.

  She doesn’t.

  “Well, you do realize that those cars can take up to four people, and you’re going to use one just on you. That’s pretty selfish of you.”

  Wow. Okay.

  “I’m not trying to be selfish. I just want to ride the Ferris wheel. Do you want…should I ride with you guys to fill the car up?”

  She laughs. Then, she looks me up and down. “I don’t think so. We don’t hang out with losers. Right, girls?” She nudges her sidekicks, and they laugh along with her.

  My face stings with humiliation. I should say, Screw you then. You’ll have to wait longer to go on the Ferris wheel because I’m going on it. Or even flip them off.

  But I do none of those things.

  Instead, I walk out of the line to the sound of laughter and chants of, “Loser,” my eyes stinging with tears.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I should have given those bitches a piece of my mind.

  Wrapping my arms around myself, I continue to walk. I suck in a breath, keeping my emotions from leaking out of my eyes.

  I’m a Reed, and we don’t take crap from anyone.

  Or that’s what Aunt Elle always says.

  Honestly, I’ve never really had to put up with anything like that before. I had great friends back in Baltimore. And, now, I have no one.

  I just know those girls will be at the high school I’m starting on Monday, too.

  I stop outside a store across from an arcade, unsure of what to do with myself. The sounds of laughter, music, and the pinging machines dance in the air, making me feel even lonelier.

  I’m gonna go home.

  Well, back to the new house I now have to call home.