He doesn’t answer. The truth is in the way his knee bumps mine under the sheet. How close we are without thinking about it, or how neither of us moved away during the night, because we never do. We sit for a few silent moments, lost in our own thoughts, until a sudden knock breaks through it.
I freeze.
Micah’s head snaps toward the door.
Another knock. Harder this time.
“Room service,” someone calls too cheerfully. Micah meets my eyes. He knows it, too. Trouble’s already here.Lovely.
A young guy in a hotel vest wheels a cart inside with coffee, fruit, eggs, all the things I can’t stomach right now. He gives us aprofessional smile. Behind him are my two least favorite people. Nolan barges in, one hand shoved in his suit pocket, the other already reaching for the coffee carafe. Adriana glides in after him, sunglasses still on even though she’s indoors.
Micah stiffens beside me on the bed. I can practically feel him shrinking in on himself. He hates Nolan more than I do, which is saying something.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Nolan says without looking at me.
“Is it?” I mutter, wiping sleep from my face.
Nolan smirks. “Depends on how cooperative you feel.”
Adriana sets her bag on the table, eyes flicking over the bed at the shared blankets, and the fact that Micah is still sitting close enough that our thighs touch. She doesn’t comment. The curl of her lip says plenty.
She’s such a bitch.
Micah gets up, retreating to the far side of the room against the windowsill, just to get some distance between him and them.
Nolan finally turns his head toward me. He looks tan, rested, and clean. Like someone who didn’t just watch his client shoot meth on a tour bus six hours ago or overdose hours before that. “We’ve got a situation,” he says casually, pouring himself coffee.
I rub my eyes. “It’s too early for this shit, man.”
Nolan’s smile widens. “Jude, there’s no such thing as too early when you’re a man in your...position.”
I don’t reply because I have a sickening feeling that I know what’s coming next. Nolan leans against the minibar, Adriana crosses her arms, and Micah stays beside the window.
Nolan takes a slow sip of his coffee and says, “We’ve got a rat.”
My stomach drops. “Who?” I ask.
“A littlewildcannon,” he says, almost playfully. “Name’s Ralph Calderón.”
My pulse spikes. Ralph is dangerous. Not in the calculated way Nolan is. Ralph is chaos. A man who grew up inside three different cartels. The man doesn’t fear death because he’s already met it on multiple occasions. I’ve only heard of him because of how much Nolan used to idolize him. Nolan’s such a goddamn loser that it should be comical.
“What did he do?” Micah asks from the corner.
Nolan glances his way. “He stole money. A lot of it. And now he’s threatening to expose our operation.”
Nolan’s empire isn’t built on music. It never was. He just uses it as a great cover to deal in the criminal underworld. Millions of dollars coming in through our band definitely helps. He sets his cup down and steps closer to me. “I need you to handle it.”
My throat goes dry. “Handle it,” I repeat.
Adriana smiles sharply behind him. “He means kill him, baby.”
I don’t look at her or acknowledge her annoying fucking comment.Obviously, he means kill, you stupid bitch.I look at Nolan. “How messy?” I ask.
Nolan’s eyes gleam. Helovesthis part. Loves watching the part of me that still has a conscience fight with the part he’s molding. A wild fucking animal clawing for freedom from a body that tries holding back. “As messy as you want,” he says. “But get it done.”
Micah shifts, furious. “You’re using him too much. He’s still recovering from—”
Adriana cuts him off with a lazy wave. “Micah, sweetheart, nobody’s talking to you.”