Page 81 of Beneath the Burn
Charlee emerged from oblivion with a throbbing head and a sandpaper tongue. She patted the bed through the dark. Cold and empty. She was in the suite she shared with Jay, but where was he? “Jay? Nathan?”
The dim light beyond the bedroom door caught flickers of a pacing silhouette. She shuffled through the room and stopped at the threshold.
Phone to his ear, Nathan’s expression was severe, cheeks crimson. He looked up. “She’s awake. Call you right back.”
She toyed with wet strands of her hair. Must not have been asleep that long. “What’s wrong?”
“How do you feel?” He approached her, rested a palm on her forehead. “Fever’s broke.”
“Who were you talking to? Was that Jay? Is the show over?” Why wasn’t he there? She shook off the paranoia creeping over her.
He dropped his hand. “Anymore nausea? Diarrhea?”
She sunk into her shoulders. He’d officially seen it all. At least she’d had enough coherency to wipe her own ass and administer her shower in privacy. “No. I think it’s passed. No more egg salad. Ever.”
That didn’t produce that smile she was expecting. The nausea returned. “Is it Jay? Where is he?”
He studied the black screen on his phone. “Charlee…he…Fuck!” He spun and paced through the room. “The show ended two hours ago. He’s…he’s in the hotel.”
Some of the tension unclenched in her stomach. “So he’s safe? Roy doesn’t—”
“No, Roy doesn’t fucking have him. He’s safe for the moment.”
For the moment? “Did he do something to piss you off? What are you not telling me?”
His pacing made helter-skelter zigzags through the sitting room, his hands on his hips, eyes on the floor.
Head spinning, she reeled into the bedroom, flicking on lights and shoving on a clean pair of jeans. “He’s in the hotel? Where?” she shouted as she tagged the water bottle from the table and gulped it down. Turning, she slammed into Nathan. “Take me to him.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face and stared at her out of hard eyes. “Tony’s with him. It’s in her employment contract…fuck, it’s my contract not to interfere.” He pressed a fist against his thinned lips, his eyes flicking through the room, divulging nothing.
Her heart galloped a furious tempo. Was Jay drunk? Oh, God, was it drugs? Please don’t let it be drugs. “What’s. Not. In the contract?”
Lifting his phone, he tapped the screen and held it to his ear. “We’re on our way…Yes, We. ”
Without meeting her eyes, he treaded to the door and stepped into the hallway. He spoke in low tones to the dozen or so guards lining the corridor. Something about formations and doorways. She didn’t pay attention, her mind whirling through a binge of scenarios. Jay passed out in the lobby. Jay swimming in his own puke in the hotel pool. Jay spread out beneath a mob of naked groupies. Her stomach bucked.
She trailed Nathan’s stiff stride down the hall. Maybe hers was just as stiff. She couldn’t feel her legs amidst the confusion of emotions gripping her body. Rather than turning toward the banks of elevators, he continued toward the opposite wing. As with most hotels, the band leased the entire top floor. He was in another room? With one of the guys maybe?
Tony’s rigid profile appeared ahead. As Charlee drew near, she didn’t detect anything different about the guard’s stance, but the look in Tony’s eyes flooded her with dread. She knew that look, saw it in the faces of Jay’s friends when they’d learned about her past.
Standing in front of Tony, she squared her shoulders and met the Marine’s gaze. “Who’s room is this?”
“Ella’s.”
Her shield surfaced, an internal reaction, one she hadn’t experienced in years. It spread over her body and shrouded her heart. Beside her, barely-restrained rage fumed from Nathan. She’d deal with him in a moment. “Is he high?”
Tony didn’t blink. “Yes, ma’am.”
The shield wavered with the cracking twinge in her chest. Disappointment rocked her body. She dug the heel of her bare foot into the carpet, a subtle thing, but it rooted her. “Do you know who gave him the drugs or when he took them?”
“No. I watch his surroundings. It’s not my job to notice a sleight of hand between friends.”
Maybe one of the roadies, then. Forget it. The how or who wouldn’t undo the damage. She just hoped…what? That it was a mistake? That there was another explanation? That he hadn’t shit on the trust she’d given him. Again. What a fool she was.
The door to Ella’s room glared at her. She knew she was stalling. She had to go in there, but it might destroy her.
Tony shifted her weight. “It’s against my contract to dictate where he goes. I can only advise.”
“But you called Nathan so I would know.”
Her face softened. “It’s the best I could do. I’m sorry, Charlee.”
“Me too.” She stood taller and faced Nathan. “I’m going in there alone. No punching on Jay, unless it’s defensive.”
He gave her a reluctant nod, his chest puffed out, muscles seemingly ready to ignore her.
“I mean it. No drama, okay?” Fuck, was she strong enough? How would she survive this? A clog of heartache choked her voice.
Tony swiped a card key and turned the handle.
Charlee wasn’t sure how long she stared at the crack in the door. Her armor quivered around her, her blood seemed to have drained from her body. Tingling and numb, she walked through the door.