Little bruises on my neck. My pussy was aching a little, and I could definitely feel the burn in my muscles. It was like I’d done a long show, then collapsed without showering.
A quick sketchy wash cleaned up the mess. Enough hanging out in the bathroom, I told myself. I turned off the light before I reopened the door to his room. I ventured back into his room as quietly as I could. Maybe he had something I could borrow. No way I wanted to walk out of his suite in anything that looked like his. So that eliminated all the suits and dress shirts.
I checked his dresser drawers carefully, using my phone for a light. I found some boxers that work as shorts and—yes!—an actual t-shirt. Ramsey had a secret life as a normal guy. I squinted at the shirt I pulled out from the bottom. It was one of Dad’s band shirts. Made sense. I grimaced but didn’t want to keep rooting around in the drawers. So I just dragged it on.
It would do.
Time to go. I hesitated at the door. His suite was laid out a lot like mine was, the other door in here went to Lachlan’s room.
Fuck, was Lachlan here?
The earlier flutter of nervousness turned into a full-blown storm of panic. Right—Lachlan opening that door right now was not how I wanted him to find out I had sex with Ramsey.
That would be bad.
While I didn’t owe Lachlan any explanations, he didn’t deserve to be ambushed with it either. No matter how much of a douchebag he’d been.
They’d all been really.
Until…they weren’t.
Twisting around, I stared at Ramsey. He’d rolled onto his back, one arm stretched out to where I’d been and the sheets draped his waist…and his dick was definitely waking up because there was an obvious tent, even in the half-shadows of the room.
I needed to call and check on Pen. The pang in my heart was a visceral ache. If it was a matter of money or specialists, then we’d figure it out. I could—I could think about it today.
The news the day before had just gutted me and Ramsey had come through for me. The sex was more than a pick me up, it was a connection and I’d needed that.
Like I’d needed the company Lachlan gave me on those runs, when I just didn’t want to talk or to fight.
Or when Jonas went out of his way to watch those shows with me. The song—the song thing hurt. It was hardly the first time Dad chose someone else over me, but…
No, no buts. I needed to understand this, to understand them. On the one hand, they were all caring and on the other—they were all strangers.
Coffee.
What I needed was coffee and then we needed to talk. Not just me and Ramsey, but Lachlan and Jonas too.
School was over soon, and Pen needed me back in California. Running away wasn’t the answer, so, fuck it. I’d meet them head-on.
It took me a minute to find my phone and my wallet. Somehow, my damp shoes also made it in here. Fine, whatever, I stuffed my bare feet into them. I needed coffee before I talked to Ramsey. When I let myself out into the sitting room, I shot a look at the other bedroom. The door was open and the lights were off.
Had it been closed the night before?
I really didn’t know. But it was—I checked my phone—the time when I was usually running. Maybe Lachlan had gone out.
Right.
Get the coffee. Then call them and see if they could meet back here.
It was early but it would be better to get all the cards on the table.
There was a message from Jackie on the phone, she wanted me to let her know I was alright. If she didn’t hear from me by noon, she’d be calling.
Another from Aubrey letting me know she was with Forrest, she was considering giving him a second chance. She’d also call me later.
Yvette sent a check-in and so did Trish—oh, that wasn’t a check-in, she needed a check.
I rolled my eyes. Whatever, I’d deal with it later. About a dozen voicemails were waiting, most from the management team. They wanted us to cut another album. School was almost over, maybe we could start on studio time.
Flipping them off, I closed the messages and slid the phone into my pocket. Dancing Goats was closer, so I headed over there but there was already a line.
Yeah, no.
I didn’t want to socialize and I needed to clear my head anyway, so I cut across campus toward the Pit Stop. It got traffic from off campus visitors too but it was early. I looked bedraggled enough for comment, so hopefully I didn’t run into anyone I knew.
All the way to the Pit Stop I mentally rehearsed what I would say when I called. It all sounded bad or worse. I got the coffees ordered, then dialed Lachlan’s number.
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or thrilled that I went to voicemail. Still, the rambling message helped. Yes, we needed to talk. All of us.
Coffees in hand, I headed back toward the dorms. A car had pulled into the lot while I’d been inside, but I ignored it. Probably one of the locals coming for coffee.
I was still trying to frame words when the sound of running feet pulled me around. I didn’t even get a word out before someone slammed into me—bodily.
My phone went one way, the coffee another, and all the air whooshed out of me as I hit the pavement. Oh, that hurt. I grunted even as pain kind of muddied everything.
“Get off,” I said, when the weight didn’t vanish. Pushing my hands against the pavement, I tried to get up but the person who’d tackled me shoved me back down.
My face banged off the cement. Pain. I grunted when they leaned their weight into my back and I couldn’t get any air.
I tried to push out another word when an arm pressed against the back of my neck and shoved me down. Yeah, that hurt and it hurt a lot. I managed to grab the hand pressing me down and bent a finger. There was a hiss of pain as they let up and I went limp.
First rule of self-defense, escape, and between their pain and my ceasing fighting, I suddenly had wiggle room. I managed to get free, long enough to kick and scratch and then I was up on my feet.
I didn’t make it far before they fisted my hair and dragged me backwards. My whole scalp lit up as they pulled hair out. I screamed but then a fist slammed into my face.
An actual fist, and the world tipped crazily sideways as pain exploded in my head. I tasted blood on my tongue and I would have fallen except for the hand in my hair.
“Goddammit,” a familiar voice said. “You had one job.”
“Fuck you,” the other person replied and I tried to force my eyes open. I knew those voices but they sounded really far away and everything hurt.
My head.
My face.
The world cut off abruptly and my next blink was inside a trunk…pretty sure it was a trunk. It smelled like exhaust and oil. I tried to raise my hands but they wouldn’t move, then we bounced and my head hit something and the world danced with spots.
The next blink and I wasn’t in a trunk anymore. What the hell—? I wanted to be sick cause my head really hurt and there was a mask on my face.
I still couldn’t lift my hands. I tried to twist them but they wouldn’t budge. Every pull yanked at my legs. Oh, were they tied to them?
Something cold settled next to me, and I squinted against the sunlight backlighting the person looming over me. “Send the note,” he said.
It was definitely a him. I knew him. I had to—the voice was so familiar, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open, they were watering and the icepick burrowing into my brain was killing me. A hiss of air escaped and the cold rushed against my nose and mouth.