Page 31 of Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

My frustration increases as I approach the door, awareness running through me at how Jax decided to take advantage of my thirty minutes of freedom.

I enter the suite, finding it dark and packed with bodies. Music pours from speakers, which weren’t present before I left.

Lovely. Droves of people partying like rock stars. Lots of bodies dance, swaying to the music violating the hotel’s policy. I move around them as I look for the man behind this.

It doesn’t take me long to find Jax, sitting on a couch with a bottle of Jack in one hand while a woman tries to speak to him. She leans into him, whispering in his ear as she strokes her hand across his bicep.

I roll my eyes at the sight of her. Fury replaces irritation as Jax remains oblivious as I rip away the bottle of whiskey from his hand.

Jax looks up at me, bored and distant. “Look who it is.”

“Get everyone out now.” My voice remains eerily calm despite the anger threatening to burst out of me.

“Love, you’re killing my buzz. If you don’t mind, please go to your room.”

Instead of fighting with him, I turn around and go to my bedroom in a rush to collect myself before I explode. I enter my bathroom and go to the sink, dumping the amber liquid down the drain.

“You will not kill him. You will not kill hi—”

Someone shouts in the distance about shots.

“Okay, you’re totally going to kill him.” I grip the bottle tighter as I shake the last few droplets out of it.

“Why are you pouring out good liquor?” Jax’s husky voice surprises me.

“Because tonight’s fun is over. I don’t care if you landed on the podium earlier, this isn’t how you’re supposed to celebrate.” I leave the empty bottle on the counter.

Jax gives me room to walk around him. “Your eye is twitching.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard when that happens, people better run. You included.” I grab my phone and look up the top clubs in Bahrain.

After I find the perfect one, I give them a call. I repeat Jax’s Amex information to the hostess because he needs to learn his lesson. At the start of the season, he gave me the approval to use it in cases to help his reputation, and well, this calls for it. I’m saving him from himself.

Jax’s lips form an O as I hang up the phone. I exit my room, not waiting to check if the object of my frustrations follows behind me. With little effort, I find the speaker cords and tug hard, basking the room in silence.

“Sweet, sweet quiet.” I cross the living room and hit the lights, resulting in groans from suite-crashers.

I make my way to the wooden coffee table in the center of the room and stand on it. “I’d like to invite everyone to Club XS in honor of Jax’s epic race this morning. First twenty people there get free bottle service on Jax!”

The room clears in a matter of minutes, with people nearly tripping over one another as they rush out the door. Not even groupies can resist access to one of the most exclusive clubs on someone else’s dime. I would laugh if I wasn’t pissed.

I check out the hotel room. Plastic cups litter the floor, along with counters covered with half-filled alcohol bottles and some white powdery substance I have no interest in cleaning. A rolled-up euro next to it screams the debauchery expected of the rich and shameless; meanwhile, Jax hangs around, looming in a corner, gauging my reaction.

Jax’s eyes bounce between me and the counter. “I didn’t do drugs. I only drank to the point of feeling a little tipsy. I’m not even drunk, sadly because I couldn’t go through with it.”

Instead of yelling at him, I grab a trash bin and start cleaning up the mess. It takes ten deep, cleansing breaths for me to gather a few words to express myself. “I shouldn’t speak when I’m this pissed.”

“To be fair, you told me I couldn’t go out. You never said people couldn’t come in.”

The extra breaths I take do nothing to calm my escalating heart rate. “Are you seriously trying to justify this?” I gesture toward the mess around us. “Week after week I try to help you boost your image and make you look like you have it all together. Clearly, it’s a lie, based on the way you keep trying to ruin everything good I’ve done.”

I clean up the room in silence, ignoring Jax who helps. He even cleans up the drugs on the counter.

“I thought it would make me feel better.” Jax places a discarded cup in the bin I’m holding.

“And how did it work out for you?”

“I felt nothing. All these people here, and I stared at the front door, waiting.”