As part of Roy’s security team, Henry’s spotter would’ve seen her on the cameras. She swallowed and asked the question she’d feared the answer to since the day she escaped. “Has Henry’s guy reported other women? Other slaves?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at his shoes. “That was the call I received this morning.” He squatted before her. “Roy picked up a girl on the way home from the airfield last night. First girl he’d brought back to the penthouse since you left. We don’t know who she was.”
Was. The temperature in the room soared. Saliva pooled in her mouth. She remembered the look on Roy’s face when they drove away from her apartment. Returning to San Francisco empty-handed, his fury would’ve known no bounds.
A warm pair of hands gripped hers. Not Nathan’s hands. Jay’s. He was a silent, comforting presence against her back.
Distress radiated from Nathan’s eyes as he looked at her. “He bludgeoned her to death in his stockroom.”
Blood drained from her face and limbs, chilling her. Images of the devices hanging on the stockroom wall flickered through her mind. The aluminum side-handle baton. The old police nightstick. The rattan cane. Charlee had felt the cuts and bruises from all of them. “It should’ve been me.”
“Bullshit.” Jay jumped from the chair, lifting her with him, knocking Nathan out of the way.
Cradled against his chest, she watched the walls blur by. Was he spinning? Or was the room spinning? Nausea bubbled up. “I’m going to be sick.”
More spinning and a trashcan was shoved under her chin. Holding the can, Faye blinked glassy eyes at her.
Too much coddling. Too much protection. She was inconveniencing these people’s lives. And she definitely didn’t deserve their sympathy. She wriggled in the cradle of Jay’s arms. “Put me down.”
He let her legs drop, but didn’t let up on his squeezing embrace around her waist. She gripped the edges of the can and dry-heaved. A few noisy gags and nothing came out.
“You don’t have anything in your fucking stomach.” His voice strummed with anger. “Fine fucking job I’m doing taking care of you.”
She handed the can back to Faye and nodded her thanks. Then she turned to Jay and cupped his jaw. “Don’t do that. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
The muscles beneath her fingers flexed and his attention zeroed in on Nathan. “She’s going with me tonight.”
“No fucking way.”
Jay grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms around his hips, tucking her close. “She doesn’t leave my sight. If she stays here, I stay here. End. Of.”
The rest of the band crowded close, their faces stretched in shock and helplessness.
Laz shook his head at the floor. “Since you sing from the outfield, she could be riding your cock and fingering your ass and no one would be the wiser.” He looked at Jay. “We can’t perform the show without you, man. I say she goes.”
Wil nodded. “I agree. She goes where we go.” Rio echoed him.
“No, no, no.” Nathan threw up his hands and paced a tight circle. “This isn’t a fucking democracy.”
Tony touched Nathan’s arm and gave him a look. Charlee didn’t know what that look meant, but Nathan dropped his head back and said to the ceiling, “Christ in heaven. Call a fucking meeting with the protective team. We’ve got a lot of preparation to do.”
As everyone parted ways, Charlee stared at the TV’s blank screen. As much as she wanted to go to the concert, her wants now felt so fucking petty.
Jay hadn’t left her side, and she could feel him watching her. A few voices mumbled in the kitchen, but they were otherwise alone.
Her thumb made a swipe over his hip bone beneath his shirt and his trigger remained dormant. “What are you thinking with regard to Roy and your label?”
“I’m not. In fact, it’s the furthest thing from my mind.” His timbre was low, drifting over her.
“Oh.” She followed the indention between his hip and the bricks of his abs. Goose bumps cropped up around the path of her thumb. “And the closest thing to your mind?”
“The 9mm I bought and practiced with this morning. Thinking about how I’d use it without hesitation to protect you.”
His early morning errand was indirectly for her. If she weren’t so grateful, she’d be ashamed he gave up his sleep for her.
“And those black bags on the counter.” He pointed at kitchen. “Thinking about how I’ll use their contents to bring you to orgasm.”
Holy shit, he’d been busy. A sex shop before eleven in the morning? A hum charged her body. It electrified as he wrapped his himself around her, around something inside her that desperately needed him, something she didn’t even know was there.
“The biggest thing on my mind”—his lips brushed the shell of her ear—”is how very, very serious I am when I say you will not leave my sight. There’s a pair of handcuffs in one of those bags.”