Page 29 of Gambler’s Ruin (Calamity City Mafia #3)

But I’m trembling, afraid that it will go from them loving everything about me to hating me instead.

The honeymoon period , Emily had said.

Havoc’s hands tighten on my thighs, and he lets out a low moan as he spills inside me. I redouble my efforts on Vortex’s cock, wanting to swallow his cum while Havoc’s is still in me.

Vortex runs his fingers lightly through my hair. “Everything about him is so perfect,” he agrees.

I’m not perfect.

I’m so far from perfect.

I shiver, pulling out every trick I have to get Vortex closer to climax even as I squeeze my ass around Havoc, milking every drop of cum I possibly can out of him. I need this to be over. I need to be able to get away from their words, from their praise, as soon as I possibly can.

I can tell Vortex isn’t even trying to hold back, and it’s only a handful of moments longer before he’s coming, too. I swallow him down, like he had with me, and it’s only when he’s finished that I collapse against Havoc.

I need to get up, though. I need to get away. I need to hide.

Havoc wraps his arms around me. “You good, Seven? I mean, sore, probably. Since my cock is not a tiny one.”

“It’s definitely a tiny one,” Vortex says as he tucks his cock away, but he’s watching me closely, too.

I squirm beneath their scrutiny. “A little sore,” I tell him. “I need a minute to clean up.”

A minute to break down, more like, and I push to get off of Havoc’s lap.

I grab a tissue from the side table and wipe myself off, grabbing a second and a third tissue to wipe every last bit of residue.

This was supposed to be a good thing. Havoc doesn’t hate me anymore, he and Vortex are getting along, they didn’t treat me like somebody who could break into a million tiny pieces, and still I feel the burn in the back of my eyes.

“Uh, Seven?” Havoc asks. “I think you wiped all the cum away by now.”

I should’ve gone to the bathroom, where they wouldn’t be able to see me. I’d thought it would only take a few seconds for me to compose myself, but it’s taking longer.

“Seven?” Vortex echoes, his voice concerned. “What’s going on, beautiful?”

I can’t.

I can’t do this.

“I need a shower,” I blurt out, then I race to my bedroom before I stop myself. I close the door behind me, then rush into the bathroom. I turn the water on immediately, but while I wait for it to get warm, I stare at myself in the mirror.

I look tousled, well-fucked, but instead of being languid with pleasure like I usually am, I look wild and panicked.

I get under the water, but it’s still not hot enough for me.

I turn it hotter, then hotter still, until it’s uncomfortable.

I don’t care. I need it. I need the slight thrum of discomfort.

I want the harsh sting of pain, but I can’t have that because they’re not going to hurt me.

Especially not now that I’m freaking out.

I can’t cry, won’t cry, but I lather up the cloth and start to vigorously scrub my skin.

I want to claw it off.

I stop myself, but it’s all I can do to stop.

Don’t cry , I tell myself desperately. Don’t. Don’t do it.

It doesn’t even matter that she would be upset, which is a startling realization.

I just don’t want to cry about this.

I stay in the shower for a long time, and it’s only when I’ve scrubbed my skin raw and I’ve calmed myself down that I turn the water off and get out of the tub. I’m shivering despite the heat of the water, and I grab the towel to dry off.

I can’t see myself in the mirror now. It’s fogged up and I look hazy. I don’t know if I look calmer. I don’t feel calmer. But I’m going to have to face them eventually, regardless of how I look, regardless of how I feel, and I swallow hard.

I didn’t grab any clothes, so I wrap my towel around my body. I can hear the murmur of voices in the next room now, and my heart drops as I realize that Vortex and Havoc are waiting for me in my bedroom.

Irrational rage races through me. I didn’t ask them to come in here. This is supposed to be mine , my sanctuary, and?—

Just as quickly, the anger fades, and I’m left feeling helpless and small .

I can’t avoid them forever, though, and I slowly open the door of the bathroom. It lets the steam out in a rush, and I blink. My eyes instantly go to Havoc, who’s sitting on the edge of the bed, and Vortex, who’s taken the chair by the bed.

I want to tell them to go away, but instead, I force a smile. “Sorry. I needed a shower.”

Vortex gives me a long look, focusing on my arms, and I squirm uncomfortably as I realize how red my skin is. “Come talk to us,” he says.

“We fucked something up,” Havoc says quietly. “Whatever we did, let us know and we’ll fix it. Because, um, talking is how to resolve issues. And not explosive displays of emotions like how I usually do.”

I hug my arms against my chest. “It’s not important.”

“Well, that’s better than you denying that anything’s wrong,” Vortex says wryly. “Come here. Sit next to one of us. It’ll help.”

I don’t know that it will, but I sit down on the bed. I’m not quite close enough for Havoc to easily reach out to touch, but I’m not far from it. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s not the sex. The sex was good.”

“Okay. So if the sex was good, then it’s something one of us said? About…” Havoc suddenly clams up. “Uh, just, y’know. Sometimes words slip out in the heat of the moment. Even if it’s not the right time to say them.”

I stare down at my lap, the urge to scratch at my arms getting more and more difficult to ignore. I sit on my hands, even though I don’t want to stop myself.

Even though I wouldn’t stop myself if I was alone.

“It’s fine,” I say, but my voice is barely a rasp. “It’s okay.”

“Nothing is ever fine when someone says it is,” Vortex remarks, but the words are gentle. “Tell us what we said that was wrong, beautiful.”

I don’t want to.

But they keep harping on talking , like it’s going to make things better.

“I’m not good, or… or perfect ,” I say.

I can’t talk about what Havoc had said, even if it wasn’t meant like that .

Vortex and Havoc exchange a confused look.

Dread runs through me.

Love everything about you, Seven .

I shudder.

“You say all of these things now,” I mumble, “but it’s not going to last. I don’t want to hear them.”

“Why wouldn’t they last?” Havoc asks quietly. “They’ve been true for the past few months.”

“I don’t want to hear them!” I say again, more loudly.

“Seven…” Vortex says, every bit as gently as Havoc had spoken. “They’re going to last as long as you want them to. We care about you.”

The words twist the dagger in my heart. I don’t want to hear this, either.

It’s too reminiscent of my own thoughts, when they meander and I wonder how much I care about them in turn.

Havoc scratches the back of his neck. “Anyway. Instead of us wallowing about… this stuff, let’s watch Seven’s anime and learn how to punch in the name of justice.” He grins at me and mimics one of the super moves from the show.

I nod, grateful for the distraction. “Yeah,” I say.

Havoc gets up, and I let him take my hand and help me up, too.

I get dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and sweats, needing to be covered up. They don’t need to be reminded of the marks, of the scars, any more than I do.

Vortex follows us into the living room, but he’s quiet even as I sit between the two of them on the couch and try to bask in their warmth. He wraps an arm around me, and I let him pull me close enough to kiss the top of my head while Havoc puts the show on.

Slowly, some of the tension drains from my body as I accept that no one’s going to say anything like that again.

So why do I feel so disappointed?