Getting Lucky (Jail Bait #4)

I drop onto the bed and flop onto my back. “How was I was so stupid?”


“Listen, Lo. You need some time to regroup, and this is a really great place to do that. You can take all the time you need and no one will bother you here.”

I roll on my side and prop myself up on an elbow. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Where did you start last time?”

I take a deep breath. “With a manager, and we all know how that turned out.”

She lays on her side next to me. “So, you’ll find a better one this time.”

“I don’t trust any of them.”

“Well, chances are that your next manager won’t try to adopt you or whatever, so it won’t be an issue, right? I mean, you said all your accounts are in your name.”

I flop onto my back again. “I just wish I got this business better so I didn’t have to rely so much on other people.”

“What about Tro?” she says with an air of caution. “He’s got to know people he can set you up with.”

I feel my insides harden to cement as images of European beauties draped all over him flash in my mind. “I trust him least of all.”

A wry smile tilts her mouth. “He loves you, Lo.”

“Which is why he shot me down the night before he left for Europe,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

She bolts upright and stares down at me, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I made a serious move and he literally climbed off me and told me it wasn’t happening.”

“Holy shit, Lo! Tell me exactly what he said.”

I cringe a little with the memory. “He said if we did it before he left, all it would be was a quick fuck and that’s not what he wanted.”

Her face softens. “It sounds like he was trying not to take advantage of you…which seems sort of chivalrous to me. And a little hot.”

I stare at the ceiling. “Well, he also said he wouldn’t fuck French girls, but he’s fucking his way through Bulgaria as we speak, so I’m thinking chivalry is dead.”

“You don’t know that, Lo. Maybe he’s not,” she says hopefully.

I tug my phone from my pocket and pull up the picture of him and the actress. “You think?”

She grimaces a little. “You don’t really know what’s going on there, Shiloh. This doesn’t mean anything,” she says, handing my phone back.

I open the article with the shot of Tro all but fucking the Bulgarian princess in the corner of a nightclub. “And this?”

Her grimace deepens, because there’s no denying the obvious. “Sorry, Lo. I really thought…” She shakes her head. “Have you talked to him?”

“He’s texted me, but I haven’t answered. What’s the point?”

“The point is, maybe he’s not fucking his way through Bulgaria or any other country. Maybe he’s waiting ‘til he gets home to be with you.”

I snort a derisive laugh and glance down at the picture. “You’re delusional.”

“I might be, but there’s only one way to find out. You should talk to him.”

I sit up and unzip my bag. “Can I use your shower?”

She looks at me a long minute, not liking my evasion. But finally, she nods. “There’s shampoo and whatever in there. Help yourself.”

I pull a clean thong and T-shirt from my bag and head to the bathroom. I stand in the hot shower longer than I should, but it’s Lilah, so I’m not too worried about being rude. When I come out, she’s in the family room watching TV.

“Feel better?” she asks.

I shrug. “A little, I guess.”

She grins. “Well, you’ll definitely feel better after a Sam Hill burger. People come from all over for them.”

I tug on a pair of jeans from my bag, then pull my hair back. “Let’s go.”

She goes to her room and comes out with her old guitar…the one we both learned to play on. I’m surprised when a lump forms in my throat. That was a lifetime ago. The only reason it didn’t burn in the fire that took half Lilah’s San Francisco city block to the ground when her parents blew up their kitchen cooking meth was because I’d given it to a guy who owed me money for a gambling debt to restring. That was how he got his parents to cover his ass without them knowing he’d been gambling at school.

She holds it up on her way to the door. “Show time.”

It’s a short walk to town, and on our way, she fills me in on the locals. Bran’s mom owns the bar he works in, and has since before Bran and his sister were born. His parents are divorced now, but Lilah says they still spend time together. “Quality time,” she says with a dubious look. “If you know what I mean.”

When we walk into the bar, it’s pretty quiet, a few groups tucked into the corners and the big-screen TV on the wall playing some baseball game.