Beneath the Burn (16 page)

They didn’t have the recognition software Roy’s company was developing, so their effort was manual and inefficient, but they looked anyway. If they found her photo on the Internet, they’d rip it down with the hope they caught it before Roy did. Her gut clenched. What a royal fucking conundrum she’d steered them in.

Across the aisle, Laz eyed him, his lips flattened in a harsh line. He glanced at her, and an uncomfortable tension vibrated through the cabin.

“Sorry,” she mouthed.

“Yes…Keep me posted.” Nathan pocketed the phone and returned Laz’s glare. “Where are we going?”

“The Plaza Hotel.”

Nathan swung his head, looking out the windows. “Just drop us ten or twenty blocks up the road. We’ll take the subway back.”

The hotel would be a cluster of fan girls. Didn’t stop the too-curious-to-be-rational part of her from speaking up. “Is Jay there?”

“Depends.” Laz leaned into his arms bent on his spread knees.

“On?”

A battle of who-has-the-fiercest-glare launched between the men. She snapped her fingers in front of Laz. “On?”

He didn’t unlock the stare down. “On if this guy is FBI or DEA or any of the other acronyms that would cause a rash in my ass.”

Nathan blew out his cheeks and tapped his fingers on his knees.

“Also depends on how much more damage you plan on doing to my best friend.”

“Let us out.” Nathan thumped a fist on the divider behind the driver.

“I want to know what the fuck is going on.” Laz scowled at her. “You’re dead. Then you’re not dead. Do you have any idea what you did to him?”

Was she responsible for Jay’s damage? By leaving an unfinished tattoo him? Had she made his pain worse by giving him a design he didn’t want? She hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, but a wanting need to fix it pulled at her heart.

She clasped Nathan’s chin and made him look at her. “He just saved our asses from a media nightmare. A nightmare I led us into.”

His jaw hardened beneath her fingers.

“That’s right. I picked the restaurant knowing I might run into them. I
will
see this through.”

“No. No fucking way.” He shoved her hand away, twisting in the seat and eyes flicking over the surrounding buildings and streets.

She sucked in a breath. “You’re smothering me, Nathan. I didn’t ask you to be here. In fact, I’ve begged you to back off.”

His gaze swung to hers, and they shared a moment of unspoken communication. She knew he walked a razor’s edge between controlling her and protecting her. His obligation revolved around repaying his self-imposed debt to his brother, and in the process, he imprisoned himself as much as her.

Three years earlier, she’d put up with a paranoid life on the run. What did that get her? A dead boyfriend and two months in Roy’s penthouse. No more overbearing men.

She dug deep to not buckle under Nathan’s confining eyes and filled hers with a silent command.
Stop controlling.

He closed the pregnant gap between them and patted her cheek. “Fine, but next time you’ll warn me before you parade us into the public eye.”

She nodded and turned to Laz, swaying toward him as if her nearness would convey the prudence of her words. “I think you’ve already worked out that I met Jay in St. Louis three years ago when I gave him his first tattoo.”

Laz leaned back and let out a long resolved breath. Then he jerked his chin at Nathan. “And him?”

“Nathan owns a private investigation firm, but he spends most of his time keeping us under the radar.”

The flicker of passing lights illuminated Laz’s sudden stiffness. “Private Investigation? Are you the asshole who—”

“Yes.” Nathan scooted closer, crowding her.

She tensed against him, preparing herself. “What is he talking about?”

An explosion of fists pummeled the driver’s seatback. Then Laz turned and pointed one of those fists at Nathan. “That bastard told Jay you were dead. Jay went to St. Louis more hopeful than he’d been in his life, only to find out you were fucking murdered.”

“Be careful, Mr. Bromwell.” Nathan’s voice was low, deadly. “The man who
was
murdered meant the world to us.”

His face paled. “The boyfriend?”

“And Nathan’s brother.” She squeezed Nathan’s hand as her words, and the guilt that came with them, pulsed in her chest.

“Shit.” Laz pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, then lowered them and looked at her. “They didn’t catch him, did they? The murderer? That’s who you’re hiding from?”

Her jaw was clenched so tightly, she had to focus to unlock it. “It’s more complicated than that, but yeah.” She shifted to face Nathan. “When did you talk to Jay?”

Nathan’s gaze was elsewhere, searching the passing streets. “I was at the tower when I got the call.”

So he was deep undercover within Roy’s ranks. “And you took the call?”

“Crane said Jay Mayard knew your name. I was afraid…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, shifted his attention to her. “When one of our detectives discovered there was never a body for Sarah Teves, he dug in and connected your real name with Roy. He was hushed. At least, that’s what Roy thinks. The detective is in the witness protection program now.”

Her nod was taut with guilt. Roy would’ve put a hit on anyone looking for her.

Laz’s chest rose and fell, watching their exchange.

Regret over Jay’s involvement simmered through her. “Laz, if Jay was asking questions and using my real name, he would’ve become a target. Nathan shut that down the best way possible and saved his life.”

The air choked with his harsh laughter. “I assure you, you did not save him. He’s been in a three-year walking coma.”

“Why? He didn’t know me.” Her voice sounded as uneasy as the conversation.

“I don’t know.” Laz bent toward her. “Whatever you gave him made him look at things differently, made him want to get better. He wanted to explore it…the tattoo, you, I don’t know. But your death meant he would be forever incomplete…unfinished.”

She cleared her throat. “What’s his story? How did he get the scars?”

His eyebrows slammed together. “Scars?”

Just cover it. One big sheet of black.

Oh God. Jay had really wanted to keep his back covered, even from his friends. “Yeah.”

A wretched kind of silence fell between them. She tried to ride it out, but after an idle debate with her heart-shaped conscience, she couldn’t convince herself to walk away. “I want to talk to him.”

Nathan sighed, and Laz swung out an arm and pounded on the divider. “Come on, Tony. Can’t you make this thing go any faster?”

The smile he directed at her danced at the corners of his mouth, betraying his nervousness. “When we get there, try to see the man beneath the surface. Whatever you saw in him three years ago, look for that, okay?”

“I didn’t—”

“You did. The proof is permanently inked on his back, and he cherishes it more than life itself.”

20

The limo stopped in a private underground garage a few feet from the hotel’s service elevator. The ride to the top floor pulsated with impatience. Laz tapped the toe of his boot against the steel walls, sputtering Charlee’s heart more than it already was. Nathan clenched his fingers along with the Musak jingle trumpeting from a hidden speaker.

What would she say to Jay? The notion that he cherished his tattoo sung through her veins. Maybe he’d ask her to finish it.

The bell dinged, and they jerked in unison. The doors opened to an austere landing lined with more doors. She welcomed the stark privacy, but it surprised her. “Do you always take the sneaky way?”

Laz swiped his card key on a solid-looking door. “Jay prefers to be removed from the view and presence of strangers, and he hires the best security professionals in the business to ensure he gets that.”

“He chose the wrong damned lifestyle then.” Nathan held the door for her with a smirk on his face.

They walked through another service door, and…oh, wow. The entry engulfed them in another world. Marble pillars, gold-leafed mirrors and red velvet settees adorned the space. A heady reminder of how famous Jay was. Would he give a shit about a nobody like her? What if she’d misinterpreted his songs and she’d built up some ridiculous fantasy about him in her head? Her heart pounded and her hands trembled.

Laz led them down a hall. “Jay didn’t choose this life. It chose him. And to answer your question, Charlee…” He looked at her over his shoulder. “When our security personnel suggest we use the service elevator, we use the damned service elevator.”

Good to know. The lackluster elevator seemed like a small concession as she passed a junior suite, a grand elevator foyer, another long foyer, a second bedroom. The scale and quantity of the rooms floored her. “This is all part of your suite?”

An oval foyer opened to a powder room, a study, and a gym. He stopped them in the center. “For thirty thousand dollars a night, we should have our own fucking pool.” He smiled with a tinge of red in his cheeks. “And you’ve only seen the entrance.”

She’d lived with one of the richest men in the world and never experienced extravagance on this level. None of it was visible from her
cell
. She’d been nothing more than a pet. No, not even that. Rich people pampered their pets. She stared at her Doc Martens in a harrowing moment of clarity, and fuck her, but it stung.

Nathan scanned something on his phone and returned it to his pocket. “Charlee?” He narrowed his eyes.

Damn him and his awareness. “Just having a little awed moment. Sheltered girl, you know?” She pointed at herself.

His eyes narrowed. Yeah, sheltered was a nice way to put it.

Laz moved to the double doors. “We took the security team out with us tonight, which means Jay’s been in there without a chaperone for a few hours. Mind waiting here for a minute?”

What, was he twelve? She rubbed a sweaty palm on her jeans. “We’ll wait.”

When the doors snicked behind him, she leaned against the wall and tried to still her racing heart.

Nathan mimicked her lean beside her. He seemed strangely calm as he eyed her.

She rolled onto her shoulder to face him. “Why aren’t you lecturing me about my bad decision-making?”

“Maybe I’m impressed with their security.” He nodded his chin to the ceiling. “Cameras at every bend and doorway, the high-tech security gate at the garage entrance, and the preparedness of the bodyguards when we left the restaurant blows me away.” A shrug. “Crane just sent a text. He hasn’t found anything on the band or their staff to cause suspicion.” He smiled. “Enfolded in all these safety measures is a nice change.”

Oh, the things money could buy. The relief in his words melted over her. “The way to Nathan Winslow’s heart is through impressive protection.”

“True story.”

Their smiles were interrupted by the whoosh of the doors. Laz stuck his head out and looked at Nathan. “Can you…uh…help me a minute?”

She moved with Nathan and Laz blocked her entrance. “Just Nathan, okay?”

Her teeth sawed together. “I can handle it, whatever it is.”

“Maybe.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, and met her gaze. “Jay wouldn’t want you to. Man’s ego and all that.”

Nathan wedged himself between them. “I prefer she stays with me.”

“The suite is locked down—”

“Let me in, Laz.” She stepped to the side and held his weary eyes.

A moan rumbled from behind him. A woman’s moan. It hit her like fingers digging around in her innards, stirring up feelings she didn’t have the right to act on.

Laz glanced over his shoulder and back at her. “You sure?”

Was she? She’d only met Jay once and had been through hell and back since that meeting. And how screwed up would it be for Jay if she walked in on something embarrassing? Depending on what she saw, he may not ever want to talk to her again.

Dammit. She needed to wrangle in her self-doubt. Famous Jay Mayard held an all-you-can-eat VIP pass to the pussy buffet, good for every night in every town. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about entangling her emotions in whatever waited on the other side of the door. Images of his feasting chased her heart far, far away.

She jerked her chin in a stubborn nod and followed him through the door.