Play Mine: Rockstar Romantic Suspense (Brooklyn Dawn Book 3) Read online

  No one to help you now.

  Breathing hard, nearly panting from panic, I gripped the edge of the bench and ducked my head as if I could make myself small enough to avoid detection.

  Just an equipment malfunction. Maybe you imagined it. It might just be—

  My cell phone blared shrilly in the pocket of my thin jacket. I swallowed a whimper as I fumbled for it, dragging it into my lap to make the noise stop.

  The name on the readout made my hand shake.

  Patrick Krell.

  What were the chances he’d call me when I’d been thinking about him on and off all night? I didn’t know why. We hadn’t talked since… God, I didn’t even know. They’d never found him to serve the restraining order I’d put in place after the break-in. In time, it had expired. I hadn’t heard from him in years so I hadn’t sought to get it renewed.

  Now I was trembling, unsure what the hell to do, and he was on my phone.

  I dismissed the call and forced myself to take a steadying breath. Then another. I shoved my phone in my back pocket so I wasn’t tempted to look at it and slowly rose to my feet, wishing I had a weapon. I had a small, illegal bottle of pepper spray in my purse at home. Why hadn’t I brought it with me?

  Stupid. My life was a series of bad choices. I sincerely hoped this wouldn’t become another one.

  I glanced around. Nothing seemed out of place. I didn’t hear anything. Could I have imagined the noise? I was certainly skittish enough tonight.

  Swallowing hard, I reached up to redo my hasty topknot and huffed a few loose curls out of my eyes. I was freezing, my typical fear response. Didn’t matter that it was the middle of June or that I’d worn a thin jacket in deference to the late night breeze. The air conditioning was pumping in the club, and my fight or flight response added a layer of goosebumps.

  I really wanted to run. I wasn’t supposed to be here anyway. Maybe someone who wasn’t supposed to still be here had stuck around. Hell, someone could have followed me.

  Or I could be having one hell of a waking dream-slash-nightmare.

  Whatever the reason, I wasn’t going to be able to relieve some stress by playing my heart out for a crowd that didn’t exist.

  And I also couldn’t just back up and run away. I’d done that far too often. If there was a threat here, I’d deal with it.

  I rushed to Cooper’s drum riser and felt around behind his kit. He kept a spare set of sticks in a pouch there. It wasn’t a traditional weapon, but if I had to nail someone between the eyes with a pair of walnut sticks, I would. Better to be prepared.

  The best defense is being pissed off at needing a good offense.

  I slipped the sticks out of their protective sleeve and gripped one in each hand as I approached the open doorway to the area behind the stage. I wasn’t helpless. Not anymore. I had a gun at home and I knew how to use it. I’d taken Krav Maga. As small and petite as I was, I wouldn’t be someone’s victim again.

  Even if I was shivering inside and out.

  It was dark enough backstage to make my belly twist like wet ropes, frayed against the skin. I wanted to turn around. My feet seemed stuck to the floor. But I tightened my hold on Coop’s sticks, letting their solid weight in my hands remind me that I wasn’t some defenseless bird. Coop himself had reminded me more than once that a man had many weak spots. His instep. His eyes. And hell, no one could dispute the power of a swift knee to the junk.

  I would use whichever of those tactics I needed to. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t have to use any of them and would walk out of here feeling strong.

  Okay, so maybe I’d cool it with the late night solo club practice sessions. I could buy a portable keyboard to use at home until the renos were done and I could get my precious instruments back out of storage.

  A sudden creak had me fumbling on the wall for a light switch. Shit, there had to be one in here. Another sound came from behind me and I whirled, shoulders braced, only to see more endless dark. I swung my arms out, suddenly claustrophobic, the darkness that enveloped me as solid as a wall.

  Can’t see. Can’t breathe. Can’t think.

  Something clattered to the floor, pelting my feet. I barely felt the pain as I bolted out of there.

  I ran across the stage and stumbled down the side steps then raced down the hallway to the side exit. It was locked from the inside and I slammed my fists on the glass, rattling the door in the frame. I didn’t consider myself terribly strong, but I was so freaked out that I was pretty sure I could have broken the door with the power of my mind.

  Glancing around frantically, my gaze landed on the “in case of fire” glass box attached to the wall. I didn’t know what it was called or if it even worked the same way as it had when I was in school, but I yanked on the lever and pulling out the handled blade inside.

  I didn’t think. Didn’t give my frenetic mind a chance to reason my way out of this. I just whacked at the door until the glass broke and alarms blared and I could shove my arm through the broken glass and wave my pass over the sensor.

  The lock unsnicked and I burst into the alley, gasping for breath as if I’d run miles. My gaze pingponged around the narrow space until I oriented myself enough to glimpse the street at the opposite end. A yellow cab was chugging by and I sprinted toward it, shouting like an idiot over the still-screaming alarm as I flagged down the cabbie.

  The older man stopped the car and rolled down his passenger window, his forehead puckered with a frown. “Hey, lady, you okay?”

  “No. I’m not. I need a ride. Please.”

  “Okay, okay, lady. Where to?”

  Biting my lip, I hesitated. I’d never been to Cooper’s place. Now that I thought about it, that didn’t make much sense. We were tight. He was my best friend other than Ricki, and she was so busy with her own band and her husband and probably endless baby practice that we rarely saw each other lately.

  But Cooper and I were in close quarters all the time. Onstage, on the bus, and otherwise. Through strain and weirdness and late nights of bad diner food and stupid jokes I doubted anyone else would get.

  He was my center.

  The sound of sirens got my mouth going even as my brain rebelled. I couldn’t run away. I’d caused property destruction. It didn’t matter I hadn’t meant to.

  God, I hated being the woman who ran to a man. I’d promised myself I never would do that again. But everything felt like it was on the line. My safety. My life. My position in the band.

  And no one had a cooler head during times of crisis—self-created or not—than Coop.

  I rattled off Cooper’s address and didn’t quite understand the cabbie’s wolf whistle. I mean, yeah, Coop lived on the Upper West Side near Central Park, and no, he wasn’t hurting for cash. None of us were, but he’d been with the band far longer than I had. Just…whoa. The cabbie looked seriously dazzled.

  Being impressed with Coop’s digs was the last thing on my mind. I was so overwhelmed and afraid I’d lose my spot in the band—never mind the property damage I’d have to pay for and possible criminal charges—that I couldn’t do anything but press my flaming hot face against the cool windowpane.

  The car was muggy. Stifling. The AC didn’t seem to even reach the back, although that could’ve been my terror keeping my temperature in overdrive and my heart racing.

  Go me for changing it up from being perpetually freezing during times of stress.

  And flights from justice. God.

  By the time we reached Coop’s building, I was practically numb. I juggled the sticks I still clutched and shoved money at the cabbie, far more than I should have. He tried to hand some back, probably thinking I needed it more than he did.

  I didn’t check out the huge spear of a building climbing toward a sky now edging toward dawn, the balance teetering between the darkest part of the night and the hope of another sunrise. My opulent surroundings only registered after I passed through an elaborate security setup with a pair of unsmiling guards into a foyer so white and gleaming I
was nearly blinded.

  I wasn’t in my comfortably rundown brownstone anymore.

  The cool-eyed older man behind the desk eyed me like he would a discarded condom wrapper. “Good evening. Welcome to The Edgemont. Do you have business in this building?”

  Suddenly, I wasn’t at all sure I did. I didn’t have a spot with anyone.

  Certainly not here.

  Two

  I stuffed my AirPods into my ears as the elevators opened on the ground floor. Noise-cancelling technology was the best invention ever made. I tapped my watch to turn the music on and the driving beats to my running playlist roared to life.

  I paused in the lobby to stretch out my hamstrings. The temperature difference from my place and the killer heat in June was always the best way to get me cramping. Then again, that might allow me to actually feel something. I swung back and forth between a void or hammering anger. No real in between lately.

  Hell, my runs were up to nearly ten miles now just to get my head straight. Even if I was ready to expire by the end of them most days because of the heat.

  And that would be why I was going out at freaking five in the fucking morning.

  A flash of red hair had me yanking one of my headphones out of my ear.

  “Look, if you could just call up there, I’m sure he’d take the phone call.”

  “Ma’am, if you know him then you can call him yourself.”

  “He’s not answering.” The voice was husky and full of nerves. A voice that was half the reason I was running my ass off every day.

  “Shit.” I glanced at my watch. I’d put myself on do not disturb. I didn’t need another email or text or call about all the rules and regulations we had to deal with. I’d gotten out of the goddamn army because I couldn’t stand being told what to do and where to be. Among other things. And now I was being almost as regimented in the band.

  “Teagan?”

  She whirled away from the desk, her hands fisted around…my drumsticks? What the hell? Her huge bluebell eyes seemed even larger than normal and glassy.

  I plucked out the other headphone and shoved them into my pocket. “Is everything okay?”

  “Mr. Dallas, I can—”

  I held up my hand. “It’s fine, Terry. You can add her to the list for any future visits.”

  “Right. Yes, sir.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. No matter how hard I tried to get the security dudes to chill out about calling me sir, they wouldn’t be swayed. Too many millionaires under one roof and most of them were dicks.

  But I loved the view and the security. The Edgemont was no joke when it came to fending off the fans who figured out where I lived. More than one—more than ten, actually—had tried to get past the front desk with flirting and bribery of every flavor.

  Terry and his crew couldn’t be swayed. So, I put up with the sirs and the sticks up their asses.

  Speaking of sticks, I gently wrapped my fingers around Teagan’s and pried one of my drumsticks out of her hand. “What happened?”

  “I—” She looked down at her white-knuckle grip as if she’d just realized she was still holding them. “I’m not sure.”

  I raised my hand to cup her face. When she blinked up at me, I dropped my hand. Dammit, touching her wasn’t allowed. I was pretty sure if I started, I wouldn’t stop.

  I drew her out of the main part of the lobby. “Do you want to come upstairs?”

  She looked back down at our hands and finally released the drumstick. “I don’t know. I need to call Lila. To explain. I didn’t mean to break the window.”

  “Babe, what window?”

  She tilted her head. “The window on the door. I couldn’t get out.”

  I was pretty sure she was in shock. “Okay, let’s back up here. Where were you?”

  Some of the glassy blankness seemed to shake loose. She frowned. “I made a mistake.”

  Her voice was so small. “It’s okay. We can fix it.”

  Her bluebell eyes filled. “I don’t know if we can. I just wanted to get some of the music out of my head for a little bit, you know?”

  It seemed easier to agree for now. “Sure. I get it.”

  I really didn’t. My music obsession was more input-based. I’d always been a collaborative type. From the army to my much better fit with the band, I’d been the guy who needed interaction—for work.

  Then I needed to go off alone because there was far too much noise with so many people. It was a precarious balance and all of it was fucked for me right now.

  Mainly because of the woman standing before me. All I wanted to do was fix anything she asked me to.

  I peeled her fingers back from the other stick she was holding. Her neon pink nails were chipped and a hairline scrape made an angry trail up the back of her hand to her forearm.

  I shoved my sticks in the back of my running pants. There was no doubt they were my walnut sticks. I had them specially made because it was one of the few woods I didn’t snap with the force of my drumming.

  I brushed my thumb over the scratches. “Let’s go up—”

  Her phone started vibrating and blaring out a trumpeting ringtone.

  My eyebrow shot up.

  She fumbled for her back pocket. I wasn’t quite sure how she fit her monster phone in those tight pants, but girl shit was a miracle on a number of levels.

  “Lila,” she said. “I don’t want to miss her calls.”

  “Can’t miss that ringtone.”

  Her fingers shook so bad, I slipped the phone out of her grip and hit decline.

  She snatched the phone away from me. “Are you crazy? I just said that was Lila.”

  I took it from her again and shoved it in my pocket. “You need to tell me what’s up before we talk to her.”

  She gnawed on her lower lip and glanced over her shoulder.

  “Are you looking for someone?”

  “No. I don’t know.”

  I swallowed down a growl. “You’re going to tell me exactly what going on.”

  “You’re not the boss of me, Cooper Dallas.”

  “Get your perfect ass on that elevator.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “You shouldn’t be talking about my ass.”

  “Don’t try to be cute. It’s not going to stop me from interrogating you.”

  Her huge eyes went wider then she crowded in on me. “We might be friends—best friends even, I guess. Maybe. Whatever. But you can’t push me around. I won’t stand for it.”

  Considering she didn’t even reach my chin, it was usually difficult not to grin down at her. Today, not so much. She’d been holding something back from me for awhile and Lila’s last meeting had started to clue me in to what. If she was going to shove me into this damn friend zone, at least I should get more than one key when she had fifteen freaking locks on all her secrets.

  At first, I’d liked that she didn’t spill all her shit. The women in my life were far too open about some things in my opinion. My sister, Jenny, saw fit to share way too much. From boyfriends to her cycle, there was no off switch on her information highway.

  Teagan? I knew her favorite movie was Hocus Pocus, her favorite color changed with the days of the week, and she made me ache in ways I hadn’t known were possible.

  But I didn’t know jack shit when it came to her past. Except that she had a piece of shit ex she didn’t want to tell us about. I had enough strangeness in my own history to not want to air all my past crap, but total lockdown? Nope. That wasn’t me.

  With Teagan, however, there was something big. And I sucked at being patient.

  “Get in the elevator.”

  She crossed her arms. “I’ve never been here.”

  I frowned. That was true. Not that I shared my sanctuary with many. I’d been to her place a bunch of times. Her place was an old school brownstone, cozy and sweet like her. The couch had seen a thousand naps, at least a dozen of mine for sure. “Then get in there and I’ll show you my place.”

  “We should rea
lly talk to Lila.”

  “You should give me the details first and then we’ll get our story straight.”

  “Why do you assume I’ll need my story straight?”

  “You’re still shaking.”

  She huffed out an annoyed sigh and stalked ahead of me then stared at the elevator. “Where’s the button?”

  I held up the little fob on my keys. “Only have access to my floor. People like their privacy here.” I waved it in front of the unobtrusive scanner. It lit up white to let me know it read my chip and the doors opened smoothly.

  Her boots clicked on the marble as she glanced up at me. “This seems pretty swank.”

  “What, for me?”

  “Kinda.”

  I snorted. “Thanks.”

  “I mean, I was expecting something a little more…rustic.”

  “I have a cabin for when I need to get out of the city. But I like this place. It’s quiet for the most part. People don’t want to get into your business, and best of all, no one wants to make friends.”

  “That seems cold.”

  “I have enough friends. And fans can’t get past the front desk. Even better, neither can reporters. There are tons of security-conscious people living here. They expect and require privacy. I’m happy to add myself to that list.”

  “Huh.” She nibbled her lower lip. Then said it again.

  “What?”

  “It just doesn’t seem very you.”

  “Wait until you see the view.” The doors opened and I waved her through. She stepped forward with a gasp and hustled down the two steps into my place.

  I tried to check it out from her point of view. I’d lived here for so long I didn’t see anything beyond the slightly messy mancave of a living room and wall of windows showing off the biggest thing that had made me buy this place.

  From the way her gaze darted around, she didn’t seem bothered by my slightly unkempt living room. I had a service who came in to keep things up while I was out of town, but I didn’t like people in my place while I was home. And I was used to being tidy most of the time from living in hotels and on busses for so long—not to mention my former army life.