by Tania Joyce
So much for keeping their parties separate. But he wasn’t going to complain about hooking up with his fiancée.
Laura caught sight of them and waved them over. She gave him the sexy eye, fucked the air with thrusts of her hips and pumps of her fists. “Come dance with us,” she shrieked. “You know you want to.”
Nope. Dirty dancing with her wouldn’t be on his agenda.
Vicki rushed over, flashed security her VIP pass, and jumped to a halt in front of him and Hunter. “Hello boys.”
Hunter slung an arm around his shoulders and slapped him on the chest. “Kyle, go with the guys and get drinks. I’ll sort Vicki and the girls out. They shouldn’t be here.”
“Oh, come on, Hunter.” Vicki play punched him in the arm. “If you guys are just hanging, why can’t we join you? Our table’s just there.” She pointed to the booth with its table covered in colorful cocktails set two away from theirs.
Kyle swayed and stumbled half a step sideways. Whoa. Way too much alcohol. “We’re not supposed to meet up. This club is on our schedule, not yours.” He scanned the group dancing, the bar, the entrance, out to the patio overlooking the waterfall and pool, but still couldn’t see Gemma. “Where’s Gem?”
Vicki shrugged a shoulder. “Not here. She passed out ages ago.”
“She what?” Kyle whipped his head around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Passed out?” That wasn’t like Gemma.
Hunter’s eyebrows shot skyward and he shook his head. “Gemma doesn’t pass out.”
Vicki drew her chin back and splayed her palms at them. “Well, she did tonight. Stone cold. She went absolutely wild at the revue, then we came back to her suite for a few more drinks before heading out again, but bang. Gone.” Vicki brushed any concern off with a flick of her hand and softened her tone. “She’ll be fine. She just needs to sleep it off. Kara and Lexi are with her. Sophie, her girlfriend, Kate and Bec went to bed. Carla, Laura, Shelley and I wanted to keep partying.”
Kyle rubbed the ache in his forehead. He couldn’t comprehend Gemma passed out. She could drink most people under the table. Something wasn’t right. “You can stay; I don’t care. I’m gonna check on Gem.”
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Hunter blocked his path. He had that are-you-insane look in his eyes. “No. You’re not. It’s your party. You can’t leave. There are a heap of girls out there on that floor we need to dance with. Drinks to drink. You’re not going anywhere. Gem will be fine.”
The DJ scratched out a new track and people from around the club rushed to join the thick crowd on the dance floor. Arms waved in the air and everyone bopped to the heavy beat.
Hunter was right. Kyle slackened his shoulders and held up his hands. “Okay. Okay. Just let me send her a quick text.”
“Awesome. I’ll grab us a drink.” Hunter slapped him on the back and headed toward the bar.
Kyle ripped out his cell phone and texted Gemma.
Heard you passed out. Everything okay?
Giving her a minute or two to reply, he turned to head over to the booth and join the guys, but Vicki stepped in front of him and tilted her head toward the dance floor. “Hey, are you sure you don’t wanna dance? Get your groove on? Because if you do, and wanna ramp the fun up a notch . . .” She edged in closer, slipped her fingers into the top of her blouse, toward the edge of her bra, and flashed him a small packet of pills. “. . . I’ve got a little something that’ll help.”
Shit. “Are you insane? No. I don’t do that shit anymore. Haven’t for years.”
She straightened her blouse and rolled her shoulders. “Don’t you want a hit for old times’ sake? Or are you turning into a bore like you were at the beginning of high school?”
As if. She had no idea what she was talking about. She didn’t go on tour with them, didn’t go to every party, didn’t do the adrenaline-fueled things that he, Gemma and Hunter aimed to do when they were somewhere in the world with a day off. Remembering bungee jumping in Queenstown, New Zealand still got his heartbeat racing. And tonight—with the strippers and drinking and hanging out with his friends—was far from boring. Best. Bachelor party. Ever. “Call me boring. I don’t care, Vick. I’m getting married. In two freaking weeks.” Oh crap. His gut took a virtual punch. Vicki wasn’t invited to the wedding; he shouldn’t have let the timeframe slip. Alcohol had loosened his tongue.
Her mouth fell open like a clown at a county fair. “Two weeks?”
“Yeah.” His pulse strummed in his ears. He had to backpedal somehow. “You had to assume it was close since you’re here for Gem’s party, right? Please don’t tell anyone. You know how Gem is. She’s stressed out enough.”
“Who am I gonna tell?” Vicki quirked a smile, turned her head side to side, and glanced around the club. “I think your secret’s safe with me.”
“Good. Thanks.” Phew! He hooked his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, let’s have a drink. But first . . .” He thumbed toward the restrooms. “. . . I need to drain the snake. Back in a sec.”
As he weaved through the crowd, ignoring the OMG-it’s-Kyle whispers, he quickly checked his cell phone. Fuck. Still no reply from Gemma. Was she still out of it? It burned every fiber in his body to resist calling her. But he had to make sure she was okay. He quickly shot off another message to her, Lexi, Kara and Chester. Surely one of them would text or call if something was wrong. He had to have faith.
After doing his business, he staggered out of the restroom. He stopped by the end of the bar. Clear of people ordering drinks, he checked his cell phone again.
Fuck. Still no texts.
“Kyle? Oh my God. It’s you!”
Kyle looked up, blinked, focused, and took in the girl’s face.
It was as if he’d jumped into a frigid plunge pool and turned sober within a split second. “Taylah?” He searched the club for Sam and found him standing vigilant a few feet away, eyes set on Taylah like a jaguar about to pounce. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Taylah fidgeted—with her phone, her hair, her earring. “I told you I was coming to Vegas to see you at iHearts. Is Gemma feeling better?”
“She’s great.” Hopefully. If someone would just fucking text him.
“There were tweets saying you were here at Wynn.” She waved the screen at him before hugging it to her chest. “I had to come and scope the place out. The likelihood of running into you was slim. But this . . . this is just . . . wow. It’s made my trip even better.”
Kyle held up his hand and put distance between them. “Taylah, you need to leave.” He could hear Sam murmuring into his headset.
“Why?” Her smile turned upside down. “I just wanted to say hi.”
“Great. Hi. I’ve gotta go.” Kyle went to step around her, but he halted in his tracks. He clenched his hands into tight fists by his side. Detective Jones had said they couldn’t link Taylah to the death threats, but it hadn’t gelled with him, especially when there’d been no other suspects. Jones had said don’t do anything, don’t get involved, leave the investigation to the police. But having Taylah in front of him burned Kyle’s blood. He wanted to find out why she wanted to hurt Gemma, why she was obsessed with him, and tell her to stop. He threw her an icy glare. “Just one thing. Why do you hate Gemma?”
“What?” Her eyes widened, the white eerily vivid against her dark markup. “I . . . I don’t. She’s amazing.”
Sam stepped closer, but Kyle held up his hand to stop him.
“Come on, Taylah.” Kyle couldn’t hide the frustration in his voice. He flicked his hand at her. “Don’t lie to me. We know what you’ve been doing. The letters have gone too far.”
“What are you talking about?” She eased back, putting a clear three feet between them. The bar blocked her retreat. “What letters? You mean the card I sent to congratulate you and Gemma on your engagement? You got that?”
He inched a fraction closer. Alcohol boosted his confidence. “We’ve got all your letters. Understand this—I love Gemma. I’m marrying her
. I don’t know what games you’re playing, but it stops now.”
“Stop what?” Vicki slipped out from behind a group of guys ordering drinks at the bar and edged in beside him. “Do you need saving?”
Ergh. No.
Kyle set his sights back on Taylah. If clueless had a pictured representation, Taylah was it. Oh, so fake. He wouldn’t buy her delusion. He glanced a shot at Vicki, only somewhat relieved not to be alone.
Taylah held out her hand for Vicki to shake. “Hi. I’m Taylah. I run Everhide’s Ringers fan club.”
Vicki raised one thin eyebrow, scanned Taylah from the ground up, and shook her hand. “Hiiii,” she drawled. “I’m Vicki. I’m one of Kyle and Gemma’s friends. We go waaaay back.” She nudged her hip against his. Gave him a wink. Turning back to Taylah, she lifted her chin. “I’ve heard of the Ringers. Isn’t it more of a Facebook page dedicated to Kyle?”
Really? He had no idea other than it was a huge fan club.
Taylah blushed, tucked her hair behind her ear and lowered her gaze. “I try to keep it even, but Kyle’s my favorite. Even when he’s drunk and weirding me out.”
“Sorry.” Only sort of. Meeting adoring fans usually humbled him, but Taylah made his skin crawl. Creepily crawl.
A group of girls at the nearby bar table took out their cell phones and snapped pictures of him. Perfect timing and an excuse to get back to the guys.
But Taylah tilted her head and pointed at Vicki. “I know you from somewhere. Have we met?”
Vicki shook her head slowly. “Don’t think so. Maybe at a concert or something.” She plastered on a smile and placed her hand on his forearm. “Taylah, it’s nice to meet you, but you’re keeping Kyle from his bachelor party. Only two weeks until the big day.”
Taylah’s hands shot up to her cheeks. “It’s your bachelor party? Why are you standing here? Go. Go party.”
Kyle groaned and jerked free of Vicki’s clasp. “Gee, thanks Vicki.” He waved toward the DJ. “Do you want to just go up there and announce to everyone what’s going on?”
“Oops, sorry. My bad.” Vicki fluttered her eyelashes, playing the innocent.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His mind spun, dizzy from too much alcohol. He hated he’d slipped the timeframe to Vicki and she’d blabbed it to someone else within minutes. Who else could’ve overheard? Gemma would kill him when she found out he’d stuffed up.
Swaying, his stomach gurgled like it contained a gallon of whiskey. He glanced at his watch. Took a few attempts to focus. 2:49 a.m. “Shit. I gotta go. I need to make sure Gem’s okay.”
Vicki threw her head back and sighed. “I told you . . . she’s fine.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her, he just needed to check for himself. Another text wouldn’t hurt. He grabbed his cell phone. Still no messages. The veins in his hands constricted, tighter and tighter. The pressure in his temples mounted. Pounding. Pounding.
“Kyle?” Taylah took half a step forward and held out her hand. “Are you all right?”
Stepping back, he nodded. He didn’t want her to touch him. “I’m fine.”
“Before you go.” Something in her voice made him stop. “What were you saying about the card I sent?”
“Just don’t send any more fucked up letters.” He tried to clear the fog from his head. “No more.”
“Letters?” Vicki voice peaked and gave him a quizzical look. “What letters?”
“It’s nothing.” Shit. Vicki hadn’t been given full details of their threats for security purposes. Kyle straightened his shoulders and found a fragment of composure. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s nothing the police can’t handle.”
“Police?” Vicki lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing with intrigue. “Kyle, what’s going on?”
Taylah cut in. “Has this got something to do with Brooklyn? I met with the detectives, I answered a heap of questions, but there was no mention of other letters.”
What the hell was Jones doing? Wasn’t he doing his job?
Kyle rubbed his eyes. Why did the bar lights have to be so bright? Jesus. He blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. God, he needed to shut his mouth. He’d already said too much. “I’m sorry ladies, I gotta go.”
Taylah nodded. “Thanks for saying hello. If you need any more information, I’ll do whatever I can to help. You know that?”
He grunted, hoping she didn’t hear. “Excellent.” He sliced his fingers through his hair, unable to erase his dizziness. “Ciao.”
Walking back to the VIP area, he couldn’t shake the feeling of vines twisting and wrapping and tightening around his spine. Was it a coincidence that Taylah was here? It was so hard to distinguish between the normal fandom Everhide experienced wherever they went and if Taylah was a real problem. The threats, her being in Brooklyn, at the show in Central Park, the fact she’d traveled halfway across the country to see them perform . . . it all set alarms off in his head. He wiped his eyes with his fingertips. He just wanted to see Gemma. Help the girls look after her. Be there when she woke up.
At the booth, he leaned down and spoke into Hunter’s ear. “Gem hasn’t replied to my texts. Nor has anyone else. I’ve got to go check on her. I’ll be quick. Back in ten minutes.”
“Noooo.” Hunter shot to his feet. “You can’t leave.”
“Please,” he pleaded. “For my sanity. She passed out. I have to make sure she’s okay.”
“I’ll call Kara.” Hunter pulled out his phone and dialed.
No answer.
“Her phone may be on silent if she’s asleep,” Hunter said.
“Another reason for me to check.” Kyle’s anxiety crept a rung higher. “Keep everyone entertained. I’ll be back.”
Hunter didn’t stop him. He cared for Gemma. With a nod, Hunter let him go.
Stepping quickly, Sam guided him through the crowd, past Vicki and Taylah lingering by the bar, and aimed for the door. Kyle should’ve never agreed to having their parties here in Vegas. He should’ve never let Gemma out of his sight. He hated not knowing if she was okay.
At the nightclub’s entrance, ice crept up the back of his neck, prickled deep into the marrow of his bones. Sent a shudder across his skin. He didn’t look over his shoulder, but with every step, he felt Taylah’s eyes pinned to his back.
Chapter 10
Gemma’s arms weighed a ton. Drawing the silky Egyptian cotton bed coverings over her bare legs and waist left her muscles fatigued. The air-conditioning chilled her to the bone, and she cuddled into Kyle for warmth.
Wait.
What?
She loved waking up next to him every day. But not today. He shouldn’t be here.
She peeled her heavy eyes open. With the bedroom’s blackout blinds down, it was dark, not pitch black. Kyle lay beside her in the king-sized bed, wearing only his boxer-briefs. As she watched the rise and fall of his chest, the hint of liquor lingered in the air. His messy bed hair lay tangled against the down pillow and the fair whiskers on his jawline caught the daylight washing in from the master bathroom.
Damn, I’m lucky. But ergh!
She fought the pain erupting inside her head. It took all her strength to roll onto her back and press her palms into her eyes. Why did she feel like death? So lethargic, barely able to move a muscle? She licked her lips, her mouth bone-dry. Her stomach squished and squelched like boots in the mud. How come she couldn’t remember Kyle coming into her room? When did he get here? In fact . . . she couldn’t remember coming to bed at all.
Last night’s bachelorette party flashed through her mind. Drinks with the girls here in the room, the male revue show, back here for a few more drinks. Then . . . nothing.
She never blacked out. She always knew what she did. It must’ve been a wicked, wild night. Even for her.
What the hell did I do?
Kyle stirred, blinked his eyes open, and smiled a sleepy smile. “Hey, beautiful.”
“What are you doing here?” She grimaced, pulling th
e pillow underneath her head. The neckline of her T-shirt dug into her throat. Twisting and tugging, she released the strangle. Why wasn’t she wearing his old Pearl Jam shirt? It was her favorite thing to wear to bed. This top of hers was too short and didn’t even cover her tummy.
Kyle scooped her hair back over her shoulder. Shivers tingled her skin beneath his soft touch. “Vicki told me you passed out. You didn’t return my texts, so I came and checked on you.”
She rubbed the confusion and clumps of clogged mascara from her eyes. She must look like a hungover panda. “You saw the girls?”
“Yeah, half your party turned up at the club.”
Gemma clawed her mind for recollection but came up blank. “What time was that?”
“I got here at three o’clock. You were asleep, totally out of it. I wanted to call the doctor. But Lexi and Kara insisted you were just wasted.”
Wasted? She scratched her forehead and couldn’t remember drinking much. She’d knocked back a fair few drinks, but nothing earth-shattering. Her head spun like a centrifuge. Every bone in her body felt as dense as osmium; any heavier and she’d sink through the mattress. But it didn’t change the fact he shouldn’t be here. She hoisted herself up to lean back against the padded headboard and crushed a pillow to her chest. “So why didn’t you go back to the guys?”
Propping himself on his elbow, he slid his free arm over her legs, his hand riding up to her hip, his thumb circling her skin near the waistband of her panties. If nausea wasn’t slushing around in the pit of her gut, she’d love him to rip her underwear off with his teeth. Kiss every inch of her flesh. But beads of sweat broke out on her brow and she fought the urge to vomit. She drew her knees up to block him coming closer. He just leaned forward, kissed and cuddled them. “I was worried.”