The Carrero Contract - Amending Agreements (Book 2 of Contract Trilogy)

25

I storm through the club, avoiding the route back to our group and head for the ladies' room instead. I need to cool down and calm my anger before I go back and sit with them, as I don't want to be answering questions about my obvious snarling rage. I can barely keep myself under control, let alone hide it.

Alexi has wound me up to high-heaven and I want so badly to punch something right about now ... Preferably his face. My insides are simmering so that I'm irate and annoyed with every single person who gets it my way as I shove and push my route to a quiet spot aggressively.

I don't care if he starts looking for me, I need head space, and Alexi needs to give me complete alone time. I'm pissed off, drunk and swaying around on overly high heels with venom coursing through me that could melt his fucking face off. I hate that whenever I feel like I am softening towards him in any tiny way he throws a spanner in the works and screws it all up. He just knows how to flip my own psycho switch so effortlessly, and sometimes I wish I had the god damn strength to drag him into a room, tie him to a cross and then beat him about the head with his own bloody gun. He's an arsehole of epic fucking proportions.

I was just starting to think this business thing could work if he just kept it platonic, and bam, a kiss.

What the fuck?

He's drunk, yes, but it makes no difference. He didn't want me last time, he made me crazier than hell and destroyed me to the point I tried to shoot myself. Why does he think I would ever entertain that again?

Idiot!

I stalk into the women's bathroom and eyeroll at the massive queue to the cubicles, mood plummeting more. I can't even get close to a sink let alone a mirror and turn on my heel to find somewhere else to mope instead. Anger and upset merging into one and I can feel that dangerous wave of tears moving up from my stomach to my throat, threatening to engulf me. I am useless when drunk, and now I know the inevitable is coming. Tears and tantrums and woe is me, and this couldn't have happened in the worst possible place—Hundreds of miles from home. I'm stuck with him until I get back there.

Damn you, Alexi!

Pushing through crowds of expensively dressed clubbers once more, even more agitated that people keep getting in my way when I'm in no mood for it, until I find a sign for an outside smoking area and force my way through to get to it. I feel drained, losing my warm glowing buzz from alcohol as I get into the cool evening air and relax a little as it hits my naked arms and shoulders in my short strappy dress. Miami is a hell of a lot warmer with more humidity than New York, and even though I'm in a very short and low backed dress, I don't feel cold at all. I feel relieved to have air and space and some quiet from the thump, thump, thump of the club. It's a distant noise out here.

I went for subtle sexy, short cowl neck dress in silver sparkles with a dropped back to just above my arse, leaving nothing much to the imagination for once. I wanted to show off, be seductive and glam and show all my assets in one go. I wonder if deep down I was deliberately trying to entice him and punish him a little from afar. He never reacted to my shows of legs, cleavage or such before. Maybe I deliberately dressed this way to get a rise out of him, and look how it backfired. Games and Alexi never bode well.

Now I'm out here though, with the gentle breeze blowing into the open back of my dress, it's making me feel exposed. Loss of my angry escort and I am suddenly a pathetic vulnerable half naked girl.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I move to stand in a space out in the roofed area, near the fence which acts as a blockade for people trying to get in the club this way, and gaze out onto the shoreline in the far distance. This club is practically beachfront in a very pricey part of Miami. Alexi knows how to pick venues anyway, and I guess this is a hint that Carreros, even those on security detail wages, are pretty loaded. None of them blinked an eye about coming here and I have seen them all paying for their own drinks all night. I guess all Carreros are rich, even the lower levelled henchmen.