Chapter 23
23
LOGAN
OMG! They sound so good together!
Find you a man who looks at you the way Logan Shock looks at Katrina Benton.
He’s so in love with her! I can tell!
It’s an act, you MORONS! They fooled us once with that Knoxomy bullshit. Now they’re doing it again, and your all falling for it! Same shit, different day.
*you’re
There just trying to sell tickets to that dumb rock battle.
Uh… *they’re.
The Battle of the Bands is free, stupid! They’re even live-streaming it
Wake up, sheeple, you’re getting played!
I smirk. Normally, I avoid the Gossipa comment section like the plague, but this time, I can’t help myself.
Fuck, I’m so jelly!
He totally loves her.
Probably true.
Knox is totally gonna kick his ass lol
Also true.
I close the browser and swipe open my messages instead. The need strikes me every few minutes now—to hear from her, to bring a smile to her face by any means necessary.
Logan
I can’t stop thinking about your thighs shaking against my ears.
I hit send.
A few beats later, my screen lights up.
Kitty
WTF you almost made me spill coffee all over Freddie!
Logan
My deepest apologies to our mahogany friend.
Kitty
He forgives you. This time.
Logan
Practicing?
Kitty
Yes.
Logan
Me, too.
I glance around my suite. Practicing wouldn’t be the word I’d use for Tesla hunched over a sewing machine while Goldie dicked around with synths and percussive beats on her laptop, but sure. Close enough.
Wanting to make things a little more interesting for my little kitty, I find a GIF of a gorgeous woman sitting on a man’s face.
Copy. Paste.
Send.
Kitty
OMG LOGAN STOP
I chuckle. Not sure what I love more: making her come or watching her squirm.
“Whatcha doing, boss?” Tesla asks, holding up a piece of jade-green fabric she’s pulled from the sewing machine.
“Nothing,” I answer smoothly.
“Working on a song, right?” Goldie teases, not even looking up from her laptop. “Because you’re supposed to be working on a song right now.”
They exchange knowing glances, both of them well aware I haven’t done a damn thing.
“I’m feeling it out,” I say.
“Yeah, I bet you are,” Goldie quips.
“Tell Katrina we say hi,” Tesla adds, batting her lashes dramatically.
I ignore their giggles as a new notification chimes, my amusement curdling the second I read the text.
Unknown
Getting impatient, Logan.
Fucking Paul Monroe.
All the warmth drains from my veins, a rush of cold prickling over my skin.
Logan
I told you I’m working on it.
Unknown
Work faster.
A moment later, a photo appears. A screenshot of a contact labeled Atlanta District Attorney.
You motherfucker!
I force my fingers to slack before I tap out something I’ll regret. Across the room, Tesla hums to herself as she works, little strands of blue hair falling over her eyes. Happy. Content. Not a damn care in the world.
I can’t let anything happen to her. I won’t.
One week. Only one week until the Battle of the Bands. A battle that won’t happen at all if I’m successful.
Successful. Not the word I’d choose.
Is it success to tear your opponents down? To sow chaos in them?
To take a girl’s heart in your hands and break it?
What’s Katrina going to think of me when this all comes out? When she finds out I was only with her because...
But I’m not only with her because of Monroe’s stupid demands.
Right?
I push off the couch, setting my guitar aside as I stand.
“Where are you going?” Tesla asks.
“Gonna take a walk,” I say, grabbing my bomber jacket.
“Want us to come with?”
“No, you work. Just need to clear my head.”
Tesla watches me, clearly curious, but nods. “Okay.”
I step out into the hallway as a housekeeping cart barrels past. I sidestep it at the last second.
“Oops! Sorry about that!” the young woman piloting it says. “Didn’t see you there.”
“It’s all right,” I reply.
She slows, glancing at me. “Hey, you’re Logan Shock!”
I instantly smile. “Yes, I am.”
She gives me a once-over. “Huh. Thought you’d be taller.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
She chuckles and keeps moving, completely unfazed that she almost ran over a celebrity. Though, for all I know, that could be a weekly occurrence in this place.
I continue in the opposite direction and press the elevator call button. Maybe a walk around the lobby or the block will help me clear my head. Let me focus on something other than... her.
She’s everywhere.
In my thoughts. On my skin.
Back when this was just an infatuation, I at least knew how to function without her. But now that I’ve tasted her...
I can’t concentrate. Can’t break through the walls of my creative well the way I used to. The song I should have finished days ago still isn’t done.
Because all I can think about is her.
Her scent. Her smile. Her song.
I want it. I want her. I want?—
The golden elevator doors slide open.
Before I can step inside, I lock eyes with the man standing in the middle of it.
Katrina’s brother, Knox Benton.
He takes one look at me and scoffs. “Great,” he spits the word like bile. “Of course.”
“Knox,” I say, braving a step forward into the car. “Going down?”
He doesn’t answer. Just shifts to the side, making room. I glance at the numbers on the wall. The only one lit is L for Lobby. I press it again, and the doors slide closed.
The car begins its slow descent.
I shouldn’t, but I do. I look over. His head stays forward, his neck locked in place, his eyes fixed on the glowing numbers ticking down.
“So, how are things?” I ask.
He exhales sharply, barely tilting his head. “Excuse me?”
“How are things?” I repeat, casually. “With you?”
His glare tightens.
“All ready for the Battle of the Bands?” I ask.
“Yeah, no,” Knox mutters, shaking his head. “We’re not doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Whatever the hell you’re doing right now.”
“I’m just making conversation.”
“We don’t make conversation, Shock.” His voice is steel. “We’re not buds. We’re not pals. So just keep your mouth shut, all right?”
“Ah,” I murmur, amused. “Nervous about the big night, are we?”
His jaw flexes. The muscle jumps.
Damn. I forgot how fun this is.
Knox shakes his head, eyes locked straight ahead. “Just shut up,” he says, voice so low it could cut grass. “And stay the fuck away from my sister.”
My smirk lingers. “What was that?”
“You heard me.” His glare finds mine in the reflective elevator doors. “Stay away from Katrina.”
I tilt my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit.” He turns to face me. “I know you’re up to something. I’m giving you one chance—and only one—to back off.”
“I’m not up to anything, Knox.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Halloween in Las Vegas. Sounded like fun.”
“Bullshit.” His eyes narrow. “Do what you want to me. I can take it. But leave my sister out of this. No more cutting in on the dance floor. No more pulling her up on stage. If you so much as look at her again, I will end you. You hear me?”
I turn slowly, letting the tension stretch, my smirk digging in as I meet his eyes. “Curious,” I murmur.
Knox sneers. “What is? What it’s gonna feel like when I whip your ass again? Because I gotta tell ya, I’m curious about that myself.”
“No.” I pause, studying him. “I’m curious what little sister would think of you threatening me like this.”
Knox lets out a breathy laugh. “You think she’d care?” His eyes spark with something cruel. “She hates you as much as I do.”
I go still. Just for a second.
Knox sees it. Pounces. “You’re a joke, Shock. You’ll always be a joke. Just the other day, she told me how cringe it was to even be associated with you.”
My ribs squeeze in.
Knox grins. “So whatever you’re up to, knock it off. It’s pathetic .”
The elevator stops. The golden doors slide open.
“Gentlemen.”
Knox and I break eye contact, both turning toward the towering figure in a jet black suit waiting outside. He stands with his arms crossed over his massive chest, obviously waiting for us to arrive, his thick beard twitching with disapproval.
“Hey, Ira,” Knox says. “What’s up?”
Ah. Ira. One of the infamous Botsford brothers, I believe.
“What’s up is that I watched two problem guests board the same elevator,” he says flatly. His brown eyes pin us both, sharp as a blade. “Is there something happening here I should know about?”
“No,” I answer easily. “Just having a friendly chat.”
“Right,” Knox scoffs, then blinks. “Wait, problem guest? I’m a problem guest?”
“Yes,” Ira says.
“Why am I a problem?”
Ira ignores him, eyes still locked on me. “Is there something I should know, Mr. Shock?”
“No,” I say again.
“Good. Now, step off.”
Knox and I move forward—until Ira lifts a hand, stopping me. “ Separately ,” he says, waving Knox through first.
“You’re being very bossy,” Knox says, pushing past Ira’s shoulder. “I’m telling Jonah.”
“Not until the 29th, you’re not,” Ira deadpans.
“Dammit,” Knox grumbles as he stalks off.
Ira watches him go, then lowers his arm, finally letting me move.
But instead of stepping off, I glance at the buttons and tap 18. “Actually, I think I left something in my suite.”
Ira’s expression doesn’t change. He just steps back and lets the doors slide shut.
Alone now, I let my smirk drop.
Cringe?
She said it was cringe to be associated with me?
No. That doesn’t sound like her at all. This is just Knox trying to keep us apart, for obvious reasons.
What would big brother do if she was spotted with me and mine again?
I say it’s time to find out.
I return to my suite, unlocking the door and stepping inside.
“Hey, boss,” the girls greet, still right where I left them, locked into their work.
I shake off the lingering thoughts, refocusing.
“Change of plans, ladies,” I say, drawing their interested eyes. “We’re going out tonight.”
Goldie grins. Tesla smirks.