Twisted(19)

Of his girl. His Jazz. The only thing he’d wanted for so long he’d had to become numb to the need or it would’ve killed him.

“Mind the car,” Cricket said in a low voice. “I like you, but if you dent my baby, you’ll be cut off. Because we both know you can’t pay, handsome.”

He rubbed against the pressure pounding in his temples. “I’m good for it. My money’s tied up right now, but once we meet a few benchmarks with the band…” He trailed off, hoping that would be enough.

He didn’t waste money—other than on blow—but there just wasn’t a whole lot of it to be had yet. They were still a relatively new band on an up-and-coming label. Ripper Records wasn’t Trident. They didn’t get to live in a swank pad rent-free. It wasn’t as if they were roughing it, but they were all paying and rent in LA wasn’t cheap.

Picking up a few overnight shifts at the transport company he’d worked at for the past few years helped fill in the gaps, but he was only in town for a few weeks at a time. This break between the holidays and the beginning of March—minus studio time, which would be extensive, and a short club tour to keep them visible—represented Oblivion’s longest break since they’d been signed. If he budgeted his time well, he’d be able to earn enough to pay back some of his debts. He just needed to juggle the separate halves of his life a little longer.

“I don’t operate on promises. Even if I wanted to, the boss lady wouldn’t allow me to.”

Cricket had mentioned her a few times before. Supposedly she was especially ruthless because she was relatively new to the game. Made it all sound so nice and tidy. She was just a hungry businesswoman, trying to get ahead.

“She’s not as forgiving as I am,” Cricket continued, uncapping the bottle of water in the cup holder to take a long swig. “Look, let’s be straight with each other. The only reason you’re still walking around and not laid up in a hospital somewhere is because I like you. You’re talented. You just keep working those fingers of yours, and you’ll return what you owe with interest, won’t you?” When he didn’t do anything but continue to breathe hard and fast, she repeated, “Won’t you, Grayson?”

“I said I’d get you your money.”

“I have faith in you.” She capped the bottle, set it back in the holder. “But there are other ways you could work off some of your debt.” She smiled, slow and sure. “I’m open to…alternatives.”

Gray rested his hands on the hot roof of the car and closed his eyes. Why was he making such a big deal about this? Sleeping with Cricket wouldn’t make him a whore. He’d just be a guy who slept with a pretty girl. Simple. Uncomplicated. The rest was his business and his alone.

Not the band’s. Not Jazz’s.

In fact, doing this would lessen some of the pressure on him for the money. Maybe get Cricket to back off a little. In a way, he’d be buying Jazz’s innocence for a while longer. It would kill her to find out what he’d gotten into, so she couldn’t ever know.

He was the one illusion she had left. He’d be damned if he took that from her too.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he yanked out his phone and tapped out a quick text to Jazz. Then he opened the car door and slipped inside.

* § *

Sorry, something came up. I had to leave. Notebook’s still in the van. Good luck. You’re going to nail it.

Jazz gazed at her cell until the words swam. It wasn’t surprising, since her shock swiftly turned to tears. Big, annoying ones she could feel hovering in her eyes, ready to spill if she so much as blinked.

Or looked up at her band mates, all sitting around the table, watching and waiting.

She swallowed. Swallowed again. There was anger beneath the sadness and pain, and way down deep below that lived fear. Something was very wrong with Gray. She couldn’t put her finger on it, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he’d become a skilled liar when she wasn’t paying attention or if she was just fooling herself, pretending not to see the writing on the wall.

He was sleeping with that blonde chick, and she had him all twisted up. Plain and simple.

It was like high school, part deux. Gray had the sexy girlfriends, and she had a little vibrator she never even used out of sheer terror one of the boys would hear. She would never live it down. They could bang babes in stacks of twos and threes but her quality time with her bullet would be front page news.

Especially if Simon got too handsy with his phone while he was drinking some night.

“Well?” Nick nodded at her cell. “Is he coming back sometime this century?”