VEGASPETE🔞+KILL FOR YOU

Chepter 35

PETE POV

As much as I wanted to stay in bed with Vegas, I need to get my stuff and get this part over with. I didn't want to prolong going back to the apartment, I just want this day to be full of closure, so I can shut that door forever. It's the only way I know I can move forward.

Vegas walks me into the apartment, hand gripping my neck, which he seems to prefer over holding hands, and I actually prefer it too. I like him guiding me and showing ownership. His touch gives me clarity of mind, and I’m less chaotic.

“Don't look at anything, just lead us to your room,” he says.

Vegas encourages me to move toward the hallway to my room. A moment of sadness washes over me when I see Shay's bedroom door. I really wish it would have turned out different for him, and I get why he chose his sister over me. We found out that Jake was threatening to expose her and her child’s whereabouts to her abusive ex who also wanted custody of the child. He used it as a way to keep Shay around.

Simon found her and told her what had happened, giving her some money to move on along with a subtle threat to keep her mouth shut. I can sympathize, but I can't forgive him for allowing Jake to do what he did that day. Clearly, he was willing to die for it.

Cutting off the sad trail of thoughts, I move to my door, which is partially open. It looks like a tornado stormed through here. There is blood on the carpet, which I know is mine from when I was hit on the head. I'm not sure how I thought I would feel, but standing here now, I don't feel anything. This place feels like it belongs to a stranger. It's weird. It's like I have no memory of my life in these walls. I'm not sure if my coping mechanism has shut off that part of my life because of the trauma, or if I have truly been cleansed of all feelings of that time, but I'm indifferent to it now. I just want to get back to Lev's place, my place of comfort and safety.

“Get your stuff and I’ll wait in the living room,” he says and walks off. The cigarette smoke wafts into my room, reminding me of sex, leather and old library books. A smell I associate with Vegas. He wanted a quick smoke. I think the idea of me freaking out stresses Vegas out. He doesn't know how to respond in those situations and I don't need him to. I love how we are together. It's real and that's all that matters.

I grab my clothes, underwear and a few other items, and put them in the extra duffle that was in my closet. Quickly, I collect my items from the bathroom and try not to linger too long in any one area.

When I return to Vegas, he is standing facing the apartment window that looks out onto the street below, inhaling his cigarette. He resembles the king that I’ll always believe he is. He looks so damn majestic standing there like nothing can touch him. He must sense my approach. He turns to face me.

“You done?” he asks on an exhale. The smoke trails into the air. Looks so sexy.

I lift my bag. “Yeah, ready to go.”

He stubs out the cigarette on the window and grabs the back of my neck, leading me out of this place for the last time.

We head home together.

VEGAS POV

The further we get into winter, the darker the nights are getting, so as we drive through the streets, the sun has started to set. It's been a long-ass day. My phone starts to ring on my bluetooth and Camila's name flashes on the dash screen. Shit. Camila is a Colombian goddess who I met a few years back. She manages a famous Latino singer and we hook-up whenever she is in town, which only tends to be a handful of times a year.

“Who is Camila?” Pete asks curiously.

“Just an old hook-up,” I say. I don't need to hide it and also don't plan on seeing her again, so I let the call go to voicemail. Until it starts ringing again. Fucking hell. I can see stabby Pete start to manifest next to me. He looks like he is sucking on a lemon right now, a telltale sign that he’s jealous.

“Well, she clearly is a fan of your cock. I thought you didn’t do repeats? You not gonna answer?” he asks and I don’t miss the bitchiness in his tone.

“She lives overseas so it doesn’t count. I'll call her later and explain,” I say, hoping that's the end of this conversation.

“No, do it now,” he demands. The phone continues to ring. Pete has now officially come to the end of his tolerance. “Answer it, or I’ll fucking do it for you, Vegas. End it with her. Now.”

I am going to have to rectify that he attitude later.

“Hey,” I say, answering the call. Her sultry voice fills the car. It's full on sex and it's clear what she is after. I smile to myself. I find it amusing as Pete starts to lose his shit. I'm grateful she is on the phone after his last performance when he got into his jealousy and nearly slit that guy's throat.

“Hola bebé. I'm in town for two nights, want to meet up?” she purrs into the phone. Camila is sexy as hell, but I wanna keep my dick.

Before I get to answer, the fireball next to me explodes. “Bebé? Fucking bebé! I thought you didn't do pet names?” he admonishes me.

Taking my eyes off the road, I look at him, and I think he may draw blood with the burning hate he throws my way. I don't answer, just shrug. I don't think it's a big deal.

“Err, who is this?” she asks, sounding a little annoyed. That's not good.

“I’m Pete, Vegas's boyfriend and you ain’t fucking touching him again unless you want to feel my knife in your throat. You get me, bebé?" He sounds so bitchy and I want to laugh, but I'm more unnerved by the boyfriend comment.

“Boyfriend? I’m not your boyfriend,” I say with distaste in my words, forgetting Camila is on the phone.

“We live together and we’re exclusively fucking, what else should I call it? Lifelong companionship?” His sarcasm game is strong today. Murder obviously agrees with him.

“Hello? Vegas, have I interrupted something?” she asks and just as I start to talk, Pete grabs my dick over my jeans, where he has his switchblade pointing at the tip of my cock.

Hint taken, doe. I shake my head. This is ridiculous, but also does wonders for my ego.

“Yes, I am with Pete. I was going to call later to tell you our little arrangement has come to an end now, Camila. Sorry. It was fun though.” I know I sound awkward, but we were hardly in a committed relationship.

“Oh, well that's a shame.” She sighs into the phone, disappointment lacing her words. But I don't care. It was only a regular hook-up. She knew the deal.

“Adios, bebé,” Pete says in a high-pitched mocking tone before ending the call.

“Bebé my ass,” he mutters beside me as I pull into our driveway.

“Can you let go of my dick now?” I ask and he removes his hand and knife, slipping it back into his pocket.

“Stop sulking. I fucked others before you. It's over now, you made sure of it,” I say. It’s not worth being bothered about. He will be bumping into plenty of other ex-lovers around town, so he should get used to it. I don’t think now would be a wise time to bring that up though.

“Fine, but if I want to call you baby from now on, I will.” He gets out of the car and slams the door, which spikes my temper. What the hell have I gotten myself into with him?

“Of course you will,” I mutter under my breath to follow him inside. Time for a lesson, little monster.

Note:"I will upload its final chapter tomorrow,just wait and read.

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