Reckless

Chapter 17

The hotel is quiet, given the late hour. When I knock on the door to the penthouse suite, I’m not surprised to see Riggs, Solene’s bodyguard, open the door. He looks up and down the hallway, like I’m going to have someone with me who is going to hurt her.

Rolling my eyes, I walk into the suite.

“Well, if it isn’t the elusive Mr. Smallwood.”

Solene is lounging on one of the plush couches in the sitting room. She’s wearing a flowing white dress, is barefoot, and her platinum blonde hair is swept into an elaborate braid over her shoulder. A quick look around tells me there is a wet bar and I head straight for it.

There is no sign of Ethan, although he’s in town. He’s either out partying, or in another room. I’m still pissed at them for coming here. If they want to give away where I am, then it would have been easier posting it on the band’s Instagram page.

Solene assured me no one knows. They took the label’s jet and haven’t shown their faces. Riggs did all the checking in for them.

It is never foolproof. As of yet, I haven’t decided if I’m going to lose my shit or not.

Riggs disappears into another room, used to protecting the band but giving us privacy when we need it. I pour out a glass of tequila, then walk back across the room and sit on the edge of the couch facing her.

She has said nothing else since I walked in. Her brow arches. I down the tequila and put the glass on the coffee table. “Why are you here?”

“He speaks.” She sits up and spins, placing her bare feet on the carpet. “And look at you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I lean back, putting both arms on either side of the back of the couch. I’m not going to let her off the hook by answering the question.

“All healthy and sparkling eyes.”

I sigh. “What are you doing here, Sol?”

Solene looks off to the side before facing me. “I wanted to make sure you were alright. And you weren’t answering your phone.”

“I didn’t have it with me.”

“How was I supposed to know that? For all I know, your travelling companion might have chopped off your head and buried your other body parts across the mid-west.”

The thought of that is laughable. One minute in Krista’s presence and Sol would know. I can’t fault her for being worried. It isn’t like me to ignore her calls.

Krista understood me coming here to meet with Solene. She’d offered to drive me, but I didn’t want to put her out, so got an Uber, and came straight up to the room without having to interact with anyone. I didn’t want her waiting up for me, so told her I’d crash here with Solene.

She hid it well, but I could see the question in her eyes about Sol and me. I’ve already explained our relationship to her, but it’s nice to know she is jealous, even if only a little. I’d rather still be at the RV than here.

“Did you even read the background report Luther did on her?” Solene gets up, stretches, and walks to the bar. “Thanks for getting me a drink, by the way.”

I frown. I got the background check in an email from Luther days ago, but I never opened it. Anything I need to know about Krista, I can learn on my own.

“You didn’t read it,” Solene deduces from my silence. After grabbing a bottle of sparkling water, she spins around and leans her back against the bar, sipping her drink and holding it near her mouth so she can look over it at me. “So, you don’t know she’s married?”

“What?” My body jolts at hearing that and my heart crashes in my chest. She’s married?

Solene chuckles and I see right through her. She’s lying. “That isn’t funny.”

“I knew it,” she says with a triumphant look. “You’re into her. In a big way.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” I don’t need to ask. Solene finds this hilarious. I get up, my fists clenching. My life and my relationships aren’t a fucking joke.

“Because you will never be honest with me about her.” She walks back to the couch and sits down. “Which means there is more going on. You can’t hide anything from me, Jude. I know you too well.”

When all she gets in response is a glare, she rolls her eyes.

“She’s pretty,” she says.

“What she looks like has nothing to do with this. What we’re doing has nothing to do with anyone. Including you, Sol.”

“Well that’s fucking hurtful. I’m supposed to be your best friend.”

“You are my best friend, but that doesn’t mean I need to tell you every minute detail of what I’m doing every single day. Plus, it’s kinda creepy. You’re obsessing over her.”

“Forgive me for wanting to look out for you. How else am I supposed to do it when you left?”

“Sol, I explained why I did that.”

“I know you did, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, Jude. You won’t let me help you. How do you think that makes me feel?”

I bite my tongue from saying what I want. That this isn’t about her. It’s about me. Solene isn’t usually a needy person. She cares about her friends and under normal circumstances, I would believe she only has good intentions. There is something else going on here. I’m not sure what.

“So just how far is this relationship with Krista Benke going? Are you just road trip buddies, or has the infamous Jude Smallwood charm worked its way into her underwear?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Her eyes narrow. She always could read me, no matter how much of a poker face I put on. Usually I can read her too, but right now, I’ve got no clue what is going on inside her head.

“You seem different,” she pouts.

“I’m not. I’m just figuring things out. You know what a mess my head has been. And Sol, this is helping. The road trip, being away from LA. Not having to worry about any shit with the band or Cody. The last few days have changed me. Maybe. If that is what you mean, then it’s a good thing.”

“She’s helping too?” She crosses her legs and sips her drink.

“Yeah,” I answer. I’m still not going to tell her Krista and I are involved in something more than the road trip. I’m not explaining any of that to her. It’s private. “She’s a good listener. She has a different way of looking at the world and when she talks it… all makes sense.”

“Do you hear yourself? You sound like a lovesick fool.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means? You’re talking about her like she’s your savior.”

“Maybe she is.”

“For real?” She rears back and widens her eyes when I shrug my shoulders. “Are you serious?”

“Right now, she’s what I need.”

“And at the end of the two weeks? Are you being fair to her?”

There is no answer to that because I don’t know. The thought of not being around Krista in just over a week's time leaves a strange sensation in my stomach. An empty kind of ache. Hearing it stated that way makes me sick to my stomach. Am I being fair to Krista?

“You’re relying on her. You’re using her as a crutch. And just what does she get out of it? Your dick?”

“Don’t say shit like that,” I snap and walk back over to the bar. “It isn’t like that. For either of us.”

Instead of pouring another shot, I grab the bottle and walk back over. I sit down on the same couch as Solene this time. After pouring myself a shot, I pour her one too. If I didn’t know her as well as I do, I’d say it sounds a lot like she is jealous. But that isn’t how things are between me and Solene.

Unless. Fuck, is that what this is? Is she trying to tell me something?

“Oh my God, I can see right through that face,” she turns to me, one hand on her chest like she’s about to faint or puke. “This isn’t about me having feelings for you. You know that makes me want to gag. Uh, the thought of your dick anywhere near me.”

“Enough, okay. No one needs to hear that shit. And please, forgive me for misreading the jealous psycho bitch you’re acting like.”

Any other woman would have got real pissed about that. Sol’s lip tips up in a smirk.

“I’m genuinely worried about you, Jude. What’s wrong with that?”

I believe her. I’m out of sorts because some of the things she is saying about Krista are hitting home. And they’re things I don’t want to hear.

“Krista wants nothing from me. I walked into her life, not the other way around. Hell, I gave her no choice but to pick me up on the side of the road. And, for whatever reason, she gave me a chance. It’s helping.”

“Well, I’m happy for you,” she rolls her eyes. “I want you to get better because I’m all fucking messed up about how things are changing. What is up with me being left in LA alone? Before you say it, Ethan doesn’t count, and you know it. He’s a clown.”

“Where is Ethan?” I ask.

“In his room, as far as I know.”

“Do you really believe he’s stayed in his room?”

“Probably not.”

Her brother is not the kind of guy who will relax in his hotel room. He’s in a new city, new people to meet, new women to screw. Nope, Ethan will not be keeping a low profile. My fingers itch to check Instagram and find out what hell he’s creating. Or how much attention he is drawing.

“So he’s out in the city. Everyone will know where he is.”

Solene ducks her head. She knows what I’m getting at.

“All I asked for was two weeks.”

“I know.” She still doesn’t lift her head.

“And I let you have my tracking information for peace of mind, not so you could follow me here and potentially make shit worse.”

She rubs her brow. “That wasn’t what I meant to do.”

She gets up and starts pacing in front of the fireplace. She’s a ball of nervous tension, which she is trying to hide by showing how concerned she is for me.

“Everything is going insane back in LA. The whole thing with you needing your space. Then Cody turning out to be a god damn snake. The record label is losing their shit over that. They’re talking about having Fisher take over managing us. And then Paul ups and leaves. It’s falling apart.”

“Nothing is falling apart.” I pour another shot and down it. “Paul is going to work with a producer who is free while we’re taking the break. He has said nothing about leaving the band. I’m not leaving the band. And Fisher? That guy who kept hitting on you before Ethan lost his chill and threatened to rip his tongue out of his throat.”

“Yes, that one. Although since then he’s not been a bother.”

“Will you be alright if he becomes our manager?”

“Atlas will kill him if he tries anything.”

I glance towards the bedroom where her bodyguard disappeared to earlier. I’ve always had my suspicions about Sol and Riggs. No one else ever calls him by his first name, Atlas. I guess he’s around her a lot, so their relationship differs from how he is with me. He’s always professional. I’ve never seen him staring at Sol weirdly. There is just something about the way she talks about him.

“Did you talk to him?” she bites her bottom lip. “He wouldn’t answer my call tonight either.”

“Who?”

“Paul. Keep up. I don’t give a shit about Fisher. So long as he doesn’t steal from us, or work us to the point of everyone leaving the band.”

“Stop being dramatic. And yeah, I spoke to him, and he told me about the situation. He told us he was working on a solo album. He’s got the means and the opportunity to do it right now, so I don’t see the issue.”

“It’s weird. Why does he even want to do a solo album? What’s wrong with Reckless Soul? Aren’t we enough for him?” She half laughs, but it’s more manic than amused.

“Sol? What the fuck? This isn’t you. What’s going on?”

She turns her back to me. Her arms are wrapped around her waist. Like she is hugging herself. Shit, I didn’t realize she was this affected by everything. When she lays it out the way she has, it seems a lot. She’s usually stronger than this.

Setting down my drink, I get up and walk over. “Sol?”

When she turns back to me, there are tears brimming on her lashes and the tip of her nose is red.

“Hey.” I lift my arms and pull her into me. “Hey, come here.”

Sol melts into me, keeping her arms around herself, but she presses her face into my chest. After a few moments, I feel wetness through my shirt. She’s crying in earnest now.

“What is it, Sol? What’s wrong? You know I can’t stand it when you cry,” I say, stroking a hand up and down her back.

My heart is pounding. This isn’t normal. God, what if she is right and everything is going to shit? I’ve been so far up my own ass, hanging out with Krista, that I’ve switched off. No wonder she thinks I don’t care.

She makes a hiccupping sound that’s part sob, part laugh. We stand still for a few minutes until she gets herself together. She draws away and walks back to the couch, sitting on the edge with her knees pressed together. Her elbows rest on both knees and she presses her palms to her cheeks, wiping at the tears.

I give her a minute to get herself together, then go sit on the coffee table in front of her.

“Talk to me.”

“I need a drink.”

The tequila bottle is beside me. I grab it and go to pour her one, but the one I poured earlier is still sitting on the table. I try to hand it to her, but she shakes her head. We sit in silence as she works things through. From experience, I know it’s best to let Sol work on her own timetable. But I am worried. She’s always trying to look after everyone else.

Ethan does nothing but give her grief with the way he behaves. I’ve tried to tell her repeatedly she doesn’t need to keep him in line or worry about him. He’s a grown man who can take care of himself, but she can’t help it. As much as she moans about him and calls him all the names under the sun, he’s her little brother.

“About six weeks ago, we were in Vegas for that music festival.”

“Yeah.” I remember. Vaguely.

We’d been one of the headline acts the last night. Once we finished our set, I barely remembered any of what we performed. The crowd was still screaming for us, so we must have done something right. I barged off the stage and headed back to the bus, not even bothering with the dressing room.

The rest of the guys had gone out after the show, but I stayed on the bus, trying to sleep but staring at the ceiling for hours instead.

“I met this guy. We were both at the blackjack table.”

Her voice brings me out of that bad memory.

“I was losing, as usual.”

“You’re a terrible gambler.”

“It’s fun,” she gives me a sad smile. “It’s not like I need to worry about losing a few grand.”

“That’s how all gamblers end up in the hole.”

“Shush. You know I’m not stupid. Anyway, we got to chatting. He was gorgeous. Kind of aloof, and he got pissy when people tried to talk to him, but with me, he was charming. You know how I’m a sucker for a guy in a suit,” she reaches for her braid and pulls on it.

“Aren’t we all?” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

Sol smiles, but it falls almost immediately. “We went to his room. He was in one of the biggest suites in the hotel. It had a swimming pool in the living room.”

I move closer to her. “What happened Sol?”

If she tells me this guy hurt her, I’m going to absolutely lose my shit. I will go get Riggs out of that room and kick his ass for letting something happen to her, then I will find the asshole and fucking kill him.

“It’s not what you think. We had a good time,” she shrugs. “In fact, it was probably the best night of my life. We weren’t supposed to be staying in Vegas, so I snuck out of his room when he fell asleep. I left him my number on a napkin with a lipstick kiss,” she laughs like it’s the most ridiculous thing ever.

“He didn’t call?”

“No. And what’s worse, I don’t know his name. We never gave our names. Though I’m sure he recognized me. Why wouldn’t he when there was a giant Reckless Soul poster just outside of the casino advertising the festival? Oh god,” she puts a hand over her mouth. “This is hard.”

“Solene, please fucking tell me what happened. What did he do?”

“I haven’t told anyone else. I thought I could handle it, but… It could screw everything up even more. Jude, I don’t want to screw anything up.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. I promise. You’re not alone.”

“That’s sweet. I’ll remind you, you said that in about twenty seconds.”

“What? Come on, tell me.”

Solene blows out a huge breath, tips her head back, then reaches out and clasps my hand. She speaks just as the door to the bedroom opens.

“I’m pregnant.”

My mouth falls open. Solene’s head whips to the door and she stares at Riggs. He has his cell phone in his hand and was about to speak when he heard what Solene said. I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck she just said, but Sol and Riggs are staring at one another as if the entire world has stopped spinning on its axis.

She doesn’t take her eyes off him, her hands are shaking. Riggs’ jaw is tense as he stares back. Then he looks at me. Who is sitting here doing an excellent impression of a fish out of water.

Pregnant? To a random dude in a suit, she had a one-night stand with. Whose name she doesn’t know. Fuck, no wonder she’s crying. Holy shit.

“Atlas,” Solene breathes out her bodyguard’s name.

“I just got a call from Enzo,” he says, straightening up, drawing himself back into the stoic bodyguard, in that unaffected way they have. “Ethan got into a fight in a nightclub. He’s been arrested.”

“Shit,” she looks at me, but the worry in her eyes isn’t all about Ethan.

It’s more about Riggs hearing what she said. And his reaction. If I hadn’t thought there was something going on between them before this, now I know there is. How far, I don’t know. But Riggs is pissed, and Solene is upset that he is.

God damn. Solene’s pregnant.

Then Riggs’ words catch up with me.

Ethan got fucking arrested .