Blame It on the Shame (Blame It on the Shame: Lou-Lou and Ricardo's Story #1) (16 page)

And, “Why don't you come back to the locker room with me and I can finish my workout there?”

Bile works up my throat and before I know it, two guys are coming closer to me and one of them has the audacity to squeeze my ass.

Luke's not doing a damn thing about it, useless prick that he is.

In my peripheral vision, I see three huge guys parting the crowd heading straight for me.

I'm about to shit a brick because there's no way I can take on all these guys; but to my surprise, I don't have to.

I yelp when Ricardo sends a knockout punch straight into the face of the guy who grabbed my ass.

Tyrone lunges for 'grabby hands' friend and Jackson stands directly in front of me like a big wall blocking me from everyone's view.

Then before I have time to take my next breath I'm being picked up and tossed over someone's shoulder.

I recognize the scary demon-devil on his left bicep immediately.

Crap
, it's Ricardo.

He walks us down the narrow hallway and into the office before slamming and locking the door behind us.

He puts me down and glares at me. “What the fuck were you
thinking
?” he screams.

I'm about to respond but he waves a hand up and down my body. “You don't show up to an all guy's gym wearing shit like this, flaunting yourself.”

“It's not like I had a choice,” I bite out.

“What?”

“Oh, you didn't hear? DeLuca hired
Luke
to be my boss.”

He rubs his hands down his face. “I had no idea. He never ran that by me.”

I put my hands on my hips. “That's because it's
not
your club, Ricardo. It's
his
and he can do whatever he wants.” His eyes flash but I jab a finger in his chest.

“Anyway, Bruno thought it would be a good idea for me to
flaunt
myself out there in order to prepare for the fight tomorrow night. So you see? It wasn't my doing.”

“I don't understand the point of hiring Luke. You're
one
girl. It's fucking weird. Luke's one of his top guys, there are much better ways of utilizing him.”

He stares at me hard. “Unless there's another reason he's here?”

He backs me into the wall. “I'm giving you
one
chance, Lou-Lou. One chance to tell me what the hell is going on and why you're really here.”

My heart thumps against my chest. “Fuck you.”

His eyes darken. “Is that your final answer?”

“No.” I give him a sugary sweet smile. “My final answer is—fuck you,
asshole
.”

I try and get out from under him but he leans into me causing every cell in my body to ignite. “Leave me alone.”

“Not a chance. Tell me why you're going on a date with Tyrone tonight.”

I'm so thrown off by the change of subject I'm not sure how to respond. I decide, to be blunt. “I don't owe
you
any explanations.”

His jaw tics and he positions his hand beside my head. “You might not owe
me
any explanations but if you think I'm not telling my father about this you've got another thing coming, sweetie.”

I laugh because he thinks he's got one up on me but he couldn't be more wrong. “Go right ahead.” I stare at the bruise forming on his cheek. “Knock yourself out.”

The hand beside my head rattles so hard against the wall I jump. “I fucking knew it,” he says gruffly.

I crinkle my nose. “You don't know anything.”

“I know he's enlisting you to seduce Tyrone and Jackson as a way of getting close to them.”

“You don't know what you're talking about,” I say.

“Cut the shit. You already showed your cards the second I threatened to call him regarding your infidelity and you didn't piss yourself.
That's
how I knew you were in on it. Just like I know he's using you to spy on me. The only thing I can't figure out is
why
.”

Shit...now I really do want to piss myself because if DeLuca finds out that Ricardo knows
all
this because of
me
...I'm screwed.

I have no choice but to resort to plan b. I stick out my chest and press myself flush against him.

My breathing hitches when his eyes lock with mine, daring me to make my next move.

I slowly trace my finger along his jaw before running it over his lips. He plants a soft kiss on my finger and I'm transfixed when he parts his mouth and licks the pad of my thumb, inviting me to continue.

The electricity between us kicks up another notch and I slip my thumb past his lips.

That's when he bites me.

It's not hard enough to draw blood but it definitely doesn't tickle.

I pull my hand back and flap it around to take the sting out. “That hurt.”

His lips hover over my ear. “Consider that your warning. Stay away from my friends. Just go back home to the Hampton's where you can be a little mob princess and live off your sugar daddy.”

The sound of my hand slapping his cheek takes both of us by surprise.

“I'm
not
leaving,” I say.

He rubs his cheek and his jaw works. “You don't have to because once I tell Tyrone that you belong to DeLuca he won't touch you with a 10-foot pole.” He smirks. “And once I tell DeLuca that you fucked up and let me in on the real
reason you're here—I'm sure you'll be long gone.”

I smile when the thought hits me. “I think you're forgetting something.”

“What's that?”

I wrap my arms around his neck and drag my teeth along the shell of his ear before whispering, “You won't have
any
friends once I tell them you're DeLuca's son and you've done nothing but lie straight to their faces for the past three years.”

The look he gives me could kill me right where I stand.

I lift my chin and push him off me. “Talk to you later,
Ricky
.”

The look on his face is priceless when I blow him a kiss and slam the door.

I have no idea what in the world I'm supposed to wear on this '
date
'. Since we're just meeting at some bar and grill, I decide on a pair of jeans and a simple off the shoulder top.

To be honest, I don't even want to go in the first place. The jig is up— Ricardo knows why I'm here.

My short-lived freedom is over and DeLuca's going to be
pissed
.

I look through the glass window of the restaurant and see Tyrone sitting at a booth waiting patiently for me.

He checks his watch again and for a moment, I debate standing him up.

But then I remind myself that this is my
very
first date. And If DeLuca's going to kill me—because I'm not naive enough to think he won't—then I'm entitled to one last night of freedom.

Besides, there are worse ways to spend an evening. Tyrone's sweet, good-looking and he's got a great personality.

And unlike Ricardo...
he
actually seems to care about me.

I push my shoulders back and walk through the double doors.

Tyrone grins and stands up when he see's me. “Hey, you made it. I was starting to get worried.”

I slide into the booth. “Sorry, I lost track of time.”

He nods and the waiter comes by to take our order. I don't order much but Tyrone orders what looks to be the entire menu.

I start laughing until the waiter asks what we would like to drink. Tyrone orders a jack and coke...and me?

Well, I blink and stutter like a moron. I really don't want to drink.

Chances are Tyrone wouldn't think anything of it if I didn't order a drink, but I can't help thinking that
normal
almost
24-year-old's drink when they go to bars—and I want this one night of normalcy
so bad
I'm willing to do almost anything for it.

The waiter leaves and that's when my nervousness comes to a peak. I have no idea what proper date etiquette is or what I'm supposed to do.

I play with the wrapper to my straw. “Are you nervous about the fight tomorrow night?”

He takes a sip of his drink and winks. “Nah. Being nervous in the cage is like ordering a steak at
IHOP.
”

When I raise an eyebrow he says, “There's no point. You're there for the pancakes—why make things complicated and order steak? It's only going to make the experience worse and it won't do a damn bit of good. Best to just eat the pancakes and get it over with.”

His analogy is a little strange but I guess I can understand where he's coming from...sort of.

The waiter comes by with our drinks and appetizers and I pick at my food.

I've never been the kind of girl to watch my figure. In fact, I wouldn't mind putting on a little weight...but anytime I'm stressed or nervous...I lose my appetite.

I force myself to nibble on a few fries and try to ignore my glass of wine.

Tyrone gives me a funny look. “Not a big eater I guess?”

My first instinct is to lie and make up some excuse like ‘I had a big lunch’, but honestly?

I'm so sick of lying to people and I'm so sick of being forced to keep secrets, it's
all
I've ever known.

“I'm nervous. I can't eat when I'm nervous,” I tell him.

He takes a hearty bite of his burger. “Momma's not gonna like the sound of that.”

I drop the fry which was halfway to my mouth. “You told your
mother
about me?”

Jesus Christ, this is going way too fast...do guys normally tell their mother things like this?

“You should see the look on your face right now,” he says. “Relax, it's not nearly as bad as you think. I made the mistake of rushing her off the phone earlier and she wouldn't hang up until I told her why. So, I told her I had a date with my new neighbor named Lou-Lou. It's really not a big deal.”

I smile and relax against the booth. He's right, I need to stop freaking out. “I take it you're close with your mom?”

His eyes light up. “Yup, born and raised Momma's boy and proud of it.”

“That's sweet.”

“Everyone who meets Momma loves her, you can't help it. She's very overprotective over her boys but she means well.”

“Oh, so you have brothers?”

He wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Sure do. Jackson and Ricardo.”

I'm speechless....I knew they were friends but I had no idea they were so
close.

I fight the twinge of guilt that snags me while recalling what I threatened Ricardo with earlier.

Telling them the truth will change everything for him...he could lose them.

But then again, he
did
threaten to rat me out to DeLuca...and he should know better than anyone everything DeLuca's capable of.

No,
fuck
Ricardo. I'm not giving him an ounce of my sympathy.

My thick wall of self-preservation goes back up. It's the only way to protect myself. It's all I know.

Tyrone's eyes grow soft and he reaches for my hand. “You okay?”

I pull my hand back and open my mouth to answer him but a wall of muscle plops down next to me practically crushing me.

I'm bewildered when I look up and Jackson's eyes bore into me. “How are you doing, Lou-Lou?”

“I'm fine,” I say. “How are you?”

He reaches for a fry but Tyrone swats his hand away. “
What
are you doing here?”

Jackson feigns offense. “Wow, can't a friend enjoy another friend's company?”

“Sure,” Tyrone says. “Just not when said friend is out on a
date
.”