Full Tilt (Full Tilt #1)(12)

This guy, Jonah, rubbed his chin thoughtfully and came to sit across from me in a beat-up reclining chair. The chair’s upholstery might’ve been brown leather but I’d guess it was more likely vinyl—cracked in places and well-worn. Jonah sat in it and hung his arms off his jean-clad knees. A heavy silver bracelet ringed his right wrist. His t-shirt fit tight around his shoulders and biceps. Nice muscles. Lean but defined.

My eyes drifted to the collar of his shirt, to take in some of his chest. A quarter inch of a fleshy red line peeked above the seam. Some kind of gnarly scar.

I quickly averted my eyes.

“I tried to take you back to the house,” Jonah was saying. “Tried to get in touch with your manager, too. No luck. It was either bring you here or back to the Pony Club, but your bodyguard seemed pretty insistent I get you away from that scene.”

A lump of dread joined the churning in my guts. “What scene, exactly?”

“Not sure. It sounded like there was some sort of riot going on.”

“A riot.”

Whatever blood was left in my face drained out. A vague memory, blurry and soaked in booze swam up. Me, urging a bunch of fans to the green room. I couldn’t remember the actual moment but the sound of so many cheering voices thundered in my head and made it ache harder.

“Did um… Did Hugo—the bodyguard. Did he say what happened? How it started?”

Jonah shook his head. “You don’t recall anything?”

“Pretty sure I don’t want to,” I said, my voice hardly a whisper.

I fished around in the top part of my boots for my pack of smokes. I shook a cigarette out and was fumbling with the little matchbook when Jonah cleared his throat.

“This is a no smoking zone, if you don’t mind.”

“Have mercy,” I said with a wan smile. “Besides, everyone smokes in Vegas.”

“I don’t.” The hard tone in Jonah’s voice froze my hand. He offered a small smile. “Sorry. House rules.”

I set my pack down longingly on the table. “You picked a tough city to live in if you don’t like cigarette smoke.”

“And yet somehow I manage.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs, impatiently. “You don’t need to call your people? They might want to know you’re okay. In fact, I would prefer they know that you’re okay. I’m sort of half expecting a SWAT team to bust down my door any minute now for kidnapping you.”

“I guess…” The very last thing I wanted to do was call ‘my people’ but Jonah was watching me.

Just get it over with.

“Can I use your phone?”

Jonah handed over his cell and I started to punch in Jimmy’s number. I was 99% sure whatever catastrophe had happened at the Pony Club was my fault, and 100% sure I didn’t want to know how bad the scene really was. I chickened out and called Lola instead.

She answered on the third ring. “Yeah?” she said, her voice full of sleep.

“Lola? It’s me.”

“Kacey?” She yawned. “Where are you? Are you calling from in the house?”

“Um, no,” I said. “I’m not…there.”

“Well that narrows it down,” Lola said, sighing. “Jesus, Kace. Do I need to send a search party? On second thought, you’d better lay low where Jimmy can’t find you. He was pissed last night. Jeannie too. Then again, she’s always pissed.”

I closed my eyes at the accusation and braced myself. “Why is he pissed?”

“You don’t remember, do you? You f*cking drank yourself into a Jagermeister coma right after inviting half the audience into the green room. But instead of sticking around to deal with your mess, Hugo saved you. He put you in the limo, right? Yeah, we had to cab it home. Jimmy was not happy about that.”

I twisted a lock of hair around my finger. “That’s why he was pissed? Because he had to take a cab?”

“Kace, you think he was worried about you? Hon, he figured you were f*cking the limo driver.” A pause. I could hear the unspoken words. We all did.

Another ugly flush of red colored my neck. I steadfastly refused to look at Jonah.

“Well, I didn’t. I was in a Jagermeister coma, remember? You can tell him that.”

“Whatever. Does it matter? Jimmy called the company and gave them an earful for not picking us up. That limo driver is going to be up to his ass in hot water. Hugo too.”

“No, no, he didn’t do anything wrong,” I shifted on the couch away from Jonah and lowered my voice. My headache ratcheted up ten notches. “Neither of them did. Tell Jimmy it wasn’t Hugo’s fault. I’m all right.”

I heard Lola light a cigarette. I found my fingers inching toward my own pack and had to sit on my hand.

“You realize you totally trashed the place, right?” Lola asked on an exhale of smoke. “According to Jimmy, the Pony Club is talking potential lawsuit to pay the damages.”

I nearly dropped Jonah’s phone. “Did anyone get hurt?” I asked in a small voice.

“No,” she said, the anger deflating from her voice. “But the green room is trashed. Beyond trashed. It looked like a war zone when we left.”

“So… What’s happening now? Is tonight’s show cancelled?”