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Charlee realized she’d spoken her thoughts out loud when Jay and Nathan swung their heads toward her. Their faces held the same shock that had arrested her at the front door. Roy’s retaliation was expected, but beginning acquisitions ofThe Burn’s label in less than a day? That was one hell of a quick play.

The clatter of silverware pulled her attention over her shoulder. Faye slid a plate of eggs, sausage, and cantaloupe across the island to Tony. The aroma of fried pork seasoned with red pepper hung over the counter in a cloud of lip-smacking spiciness. A reminder she hadn’t eaten since the flight the prior night.

Seated around Tony, Jay’s bandmates shoveled through their own plates of breakfast grease. All eyes were on the TV as Nathan rewound the clip and started it again.

Charlee’s situation with Roy affected the entire household. A heavy weight of guilt made her want to crawl in the corner and disappear, but that kind of weakness wouldn’t help anyone.

“Go eat.” She pushed Jay toward the island.

He glanced at her hands where they rested on his arm and gave her a small smile. She’d touched him without thinking, and he wasn’t having a meltdown. At least, they had that.

Without moving her hands, she faced Nathan. “When did this air?”

“Twenty minutes ago.” He paused the image of Roy’s face pinched in concentration and stared at it as if it held some hidden solution to all their problems.

“He’s in his home office.” She gestured at the leather wallpaper and rich wood shelves in the background. Had there been a slave between his legs, sucking him off while leashed to a chain? Dread rolled over her in shuddering waves.

“We had him tailed after we left your apartment yesterday,” Tony said around a mouthful of melon. “We assumed he went back to San Francisco, but we couldn’t confirm his arrival. This is good news. We know where he’s at.”

They knew where he was twenty minutes ago. Charlee wasn’t sure what her expression held but Jay set his half-filled plate on the island and tugged her under the mantle of his arm. “San Fran is a six-hour drive from here. An hour and a half by plane.”

He was telling her she had a couple hours before she needed to worry about Roy circling the property in person. She nodded.

When she turned back to Nathan, she noticed the vacant veranda behind him. Where were all the girls?

“We sent the visitors home,” he said, perceptive as always. Worry lines creased the corners of his eyes. Something else was going on.

Her head throbbed. “Nathan, how’d you know about the record company acquisition before it was publicly announced?”

“I didn’t.” He powered off the TV. “This isn’t the news I received this morning. Sit down, Charlee.” He pointed to a deep cushioned chair in the living room.

Her hands shook as she dragged her bare feet over the wood floors. Was Roy already blackmailing the band? Had they decided to turn her over to him? A violent surge of fear choked her breath. Worse, was the alarming pressure behind her eyes at the thought of being separated from Jay.

Jay stayed at her side, carrying a plate piled with bacon and buttered toast. Lowering into the chair, he pulled her with him into his lap. “Half of this is yours.” He held the plate under her nose.

Dishes rattled in the kitchen and multiple footsteps shuffled in around her. Faye perched on the armrest of a love seat. Rio, Laz and Wil spread out on the couches, unusually quiet as their eyes lingered on her longer than she was comfortable with.

Nathan must have gestured them over. Why was everyone staring at her as if they’d never seen her before? Her insides knotted and she tried not to fidget under their scrutiny. Their expressions were heated, not with the anger she expected, but with a rawness that turned her stomach.

She jerked her gaze to Nathan. “You told them.” How much had he told them? Did they know every sickening detail of her time with Roy?

Tony paced into her periphery and stood beside Nathan. “We both did. They needed to understand—”

“It’s fine, Tony.” Jay set the plate on the end table and shifted Charlee in his lap to face him. “I was going to tell them regardless. The band and everyone we employ will be impacted by your presence here, whether it’s adding more guards, upping the safety precautions… changing record labels.” His eyes were soft, gentle.

Guilt stabbed her anew. In a way, it was a relief to not have to live in subterfuge and filter everything that came out of her mouth, but she didn’t want those luxuries at the expense of Jay’s friends and their careers.

She swiveled in his lap to meet their eyes, the effort in her movements slogging with shame. “I knew this would reach beyond me, and I came here heedless of the trouble it would cause. I’m sorry.” She held the eyes of each musician. “Did they tell you everything?”

Laz shrugged and leaned back in the couch. “We got the cliff notes. I already knew some of it, what you told me in the limo in New York. They filled in the rest. Imprisoned twice by this Oxford prick. He did things to you. Bad things. To his guards. Killed your boyfriend, too.” His expression was soft in the way that made her neck sink into her shoulders. He knew exactly what thosethingswere.

He sat forward, elbows on his knees. “Then there’s the arms-trafficking. Blackmailing. Bullying acquisitions. And now he’s on a mission to destroy our band.” He shrugged. “To rip us apart from the top down. That about sum it up?”

She nodded, numb. He hated her. As he should. She looked at Wil, who fiddled with the drawstring of his trunks. His eyes rolled up and snagged hers. “I just want to know when you’re going to tattoo Laz’s dick.”

A ripple of chuckles relieved some of the tension in the room.Well played, Wil. But the muscled legs beneath her turned to stone.

Jay moved to the edge of the chair, taking her with him. “Are you mentally handicapped? She’s not going anywhere near Laz’s dick.”