I rub my face, feeling the unfamiliar rasp of stubble. I forgot to shave this morning. My head is pounding with a headache that should be in the fucking Guinness Book of World Records. Looking around the room, I sigh at how depressing it all is. I don’t even know why I came in. There’s nothing for me to do. At least Nathan can do his trading with his tablet. I can’t do half of my fucking job sitting back here.
But while Franklin is my job, Club Jasmine was my dream. My way out. It was the thing that said I was working for myself, not for some nameless, faceless mass of shareholders and some board of rich assholes who wouldn’t understand what I’ve had to do to get to this point. Club Jasmine might have been just a nightclub, but it was magical when it was open. It’s my baby, and I feel compelled to check on it. Every day we’re closed is like a knife in my chest . . . and other than bleed money, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.
“How’s Sophie holding up through this?” Nathan asks after a moment. “I mean, the situation between you two.”
“She’s not talking to me,” I say. “I was making progress before the accident. I mean, I thought I was. Sure, I’d spent a lot of time with Roxy and getting this place ready, but . . . now she’s down again. Maybe I said some things I shouldn’t have. I got so mad when I found out she was with the same asshole who brought her in here.”
“You want to pay the fucker a visit?” Nathan asks. “I gave him a little speech before I let him go, but maybe he needs a little more convincing.”
I think about it, then shake my head. “No. I’m still debating on it, but if I do, I’ll handle it myself.”
Nathan snorts, shaking his head. “Teenage girls, man. Shit, even when we were teenagers, I preferred them older. I wouldn’t wish that death sentence on anybody. All hormones and Lifetime Channel bullshit.”
Despite my sour mood, I have to chuckle at his crude way with words. “Sophie’s actually not that bad. In fact, up until now, she’s been practically an angel. I guess it was gonna catch up with me sooner or later.”
“Actually, I’d say you’ve done pretty damn good with this.”
I turn to Nathan, so exhausted and hurting that I speak my mind. “Nate, about the fire . . . I mean, you’ve gotta blame me some.”
“Bullshit,” Nathan says with a harsh laugh. “I’m not a damn child. I agreed to the fucking pyro idea. Hell, I’ve spent days kicking myself over it, too. Roxy told me as they were getting on stage that they wanted to nix the pyro. I swear I passed it along. I even talked to the stage tech. He says the same. Nobody can find the damn pyro tech though. Someone didn’t get the fucking message.”
“Sounds like there’s more than enough blame to go around and we all get to take a bite of the shit sandwich,” I whisper. “Thank you for telling me.”
There’s a knock at the door, and I get up, swaying as the room spins. Nathan’s up in a flash, patting me on the arm. “Yo, you go home, Jake. I got this shit. You go take care of Sophie.”
I nod as Nathan leads me to the door. Opening it, we see John, who’s been acting as crew chief. He looks different in his old army pants and combat boots, good for the work at hand. “Nathan—”
“Just a moment, John,” Nathan says. “Call Jake a cab, and then tell me what’s on your mind.”
John nods and disappears, and I give Nathan a grateful but exhausted nod. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”
Nathan shakes his head. “Don’t sweat it.”
We pull up to the address that I got from Sophie’s phone, a medium-sized house in what looks like a middle-class neighborhood out in the burbs. Luckily for me, Jax is already sitting out on the porch with a blonde girl on his arm, talking, laughing, and carrying on like he didn’t just almost kill my sister. I know I told Nathan I was still thinking about this, but I can’t stop myself.
Seeing him laugh and joke around makes me even more mad. I jump out of the car and shut the door just a little too hard before telling the cabbie to wait, stalking up the sidewalk to the house.
Be careful, a little voice warns in the back of my head. You don’t want to do anything that you’ll end up regretting.
“What’s up?” I ask casually as I walk up.
Jax’s grins slowly fades from his face as he recognizes me, and he turns a little pale. “Nothing much,” he says finally, a cool note entering his voice. “Just chilling with my girl, Erica.”
I sneer. “Your girl, huh?”
He nods, trying to act hard when I know he’s a scared little bitch. “Yeah, my girl.”
That little smirk pisses me off and I can’t help it. Without warning, I snatch him up by the front of his shirt and slam him against the wall.
“Hey!” Erica cries, getting up from her seat, startled by my violent behavior. “Stop it!”
I ignore her, set in getting my point across. “You might not have been legally drunk, so the cops might be done with you, but you could’ve seriously hurt Sophie. I’m just going to say this once. Stay the fuck away from my sister or I’m going to come back here, and next time, I won’t be so nice. You won’t need a girl, because you’ll be missing a set of balls,” I growl menacingly in his face. “You understand me?”
Jax gasps, his face turning a dark shade of red as he nods violently. “Yes, I understand! I won’t touch her, I swear!”
I hold him in place for a moment longer, letting him feel true terror, then let him go. He comes away with a gasp, grabbing his throat. “Good,” I growl. “I don’t want to have to come back here again.”
“What the hell was that for?” Erica demands as I step away, running forward to wrap her arm around Jax’s shoulder as he wheezes.
“Dude’s an asshole, and I’ve had enough of him getting my little sister into things she shouldn’t be in,” I say. “Ask him about last weekend.”
With that said, I turn and walk back to the cab. Behind me, I hear her demand of Jax, “What the hell is he talking about?”
As I get in the cab and he starts the engine, I witness the two arguing, gesturing wildly at each other. The cabbie turns back and gives me a questioning look, but he doesn’t say a word. Before we pull off, I see that Erica’s had enough. She slaps Jax across the face, spins on her heels, and walks off.
Chuckling, we drive off, and I can’t stop the smile that forms on my face.
The apartment is silent as a tomb when I walk in, and except for the hum of the fridge in the kitchen, I can’t hear anything.
“Sophie?” I ask, pulling off my suit jacket and draping it over the empty sofa. The remote for the TV is untouched, right where I left it this morning to check the news, and I grow more worried. I dropped her off this morning but sent a driver to pick her up after school. I didn’t hear anything about a problem, but still . . .
I check my home office. Sophie uses my desktop computer from time to time. Nothing, and I grow more worried. Walking down the hallway, I stop outside her room, relief rushing through me as I hear something inside. I almost decide to let her be, but instead I knock softly. “Sophie?”
There’s no answer, and I’m about to turn away when there’s a soft reply from the other side. “Come in.”
I open the door and see her stretched out on her bed, watching one of the stupid Real Housewives shows. Way too much unneeded drama for me. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she says, sitting up, and to my relief, turning off the TV. “You’re home early. For you, at least.”
I think of making a wiseass remark, but instead I stop. This isn’t the time for it. “I came home because I wanted to see how you were doing. Whatcha been up to?”
Sophie flops back, waving a hand at the TV. “Just watching TV. Jax tried to call me but I didn’t answer.”
I step into her room, sitting on the edge of the bed and raising an eyebrow. “Why not?”
Sophie looks embarrassed, and deep down, I see a little bit of hurt, too. “I saw him with some chick at a party on Instagram. I know of her. She’s a total skank.”
“Oh,” I say quietly, glad that Sophie figured out that Jax is no good for her but sad that she’s hurt.
Sophie reaches over, putting a hand on my arm. “I’m sorry, Jake.”
She starts trembling, and I pull her up, giving her a hug. “I’m sorry too, Sophie. Because you’re right—you’re my sister and I should have given you more attention.”