by Tripp Ellis
“Where are you now?”
“I locked myself in the bathroom and made myself throw up.”
“What room are you in?”
“The penthouse suite. 4100.”
“Stay put. I’ll be right there.”
I launched out of bed and got dressed.
Aria sat up in bed, her face twisted with concern. “What’s going on?”
“So much for harmless fun. Stay here. I’ll be back shortly.”
I caught a cab over to the King’s Court and stormed into the opulent lobby—marble floors and columns that vaulted to the high ceiling. I marched past the baby grand piano and the waterfall to the elevator bank. I quickly realized I would need a key card to access the 41st floor.
I ran back to the front desk and told them I was the band’s manager and had left my key in the room.
The desk clerk looked at me like I was full of shit.
“Look at me. Do I look like a fan?”
The clerk hesitated.
“It’s late, and I’m tired, and I have a bunch of assholes to wrangle. And I think they have a few teen girls up there.”
I wasn’t exactly lying.
He finally programmed a key card and handed it to me. I ran back to the elevator and rocketed up to the 41st floor. The dull thump of music billowed into the hallway.
I ran down the corridor, stuck the card in the key slot, and pushed open the door.
The suite was filled with smoke. There were rock stars and roadies and girls. The foyer opened into a large living area that split the bedrooms.
A big bouncer stomped toward me. He was 6’5”, bald, and as thick as a power lifter. A scowl twisted on his face. “Who are you? How did you get in here?”
I punched him in the face, then kneed him in the groin. He doubled over, and I jammed an elbow into the back of his spine.
He flattened to the ground with a groan.
I found the guest bathroom and rapped on the door. “Scarlett? Are you in there?”
“Tyson?”
“Stay there till I come back.” I glanced around the living room, looking for Sadie. I didn’t see her pink hair anywhere.
“Hey, mother fucker!” the drummer shouted. “Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops!”
“Go ahead. Call them!”
His hands balled into fists, and he looked like he wanted to do something, but he had second thoughts. His eyes flicked to the security guard on the ground, and even in his inebriated state, he realized he didn’t stand a chance.
The drummer backed down, and I stormed to the bedroom and kicked open the door. Sadie was passed out on the bed. Zazzle hovered at the foot of the bed, preparing to do something that was too low, even for him.
He slung the hair out of his face and his glassy eyes glared at me. “What the fuck, man?”
I swung a right cross as hard as I could. I’d been waiting to do this since the night I met him in Monaco. My knuckles connected with his jaw, and blood spewed from his lips. His head twisted to the side, and a pearly tooth tumbled from his lips.
Zazzle fell back against the wall and slumped to the ground, out cold.
His teeth against my knuckles hurt, and I shook out my hand.
It was worth the pain.
I climbed onto the bed and tried to wake Sadie. “Come on. Wake up. It’s time to go home.”
She didn’t respond.
My fingertips felt for a pulse on her neck.
It was faint.
Her chest wasn’t moving.
I scrambled for my phone and dialed 911.
About that time, the bouncer entered the room, and I found myself on the wrong end of a 9mm. Blood trickled from his nose, dripping down his chin. “Put the phone down!”
“What did you people give her? She OD’d!”
“Put the phone down. We’ll deal with this.”
“You’ll be an accessory to murder. She’s not breathing.”
He hesitated, then lowered the weapon, realizing this was too big to cover up.
I talked to the 911 operator while starting chest compressions, trying to revive Sadie.
Nothing I did worked, and by the time the EMTs arrived she was gone.
The cops weren’t far behind, and everyone was questioned. Several arrests were made. The officers took custody of the body and transferred Sadie to the Medical Examiner where a full autopsy would be performed.
I don’t know what they had given her, but it was a central nervous system depressant. It had slowed her breathing to the point where she couldn’t function.
Scarlet was dazed and didn’t say a word. She stared into the distance blankly. It was almost sunrise by the time we made it back to Aria’s apartment. Scarlett made a beeline for the guest bedroom and closed the door behind her. Her muffled sobs filtered through the wall for the next hour.
I caught Aria up to speed on what had happened. She made me breakfast, then I crawled into bed just after sunrise. I needed to get a few hours sleep. When I woke up that afternoon, I called the airline and changed our flight.
I said goodbye to Aria—we’d finish our discussion another time. Scarlett and I caught a cab to LaGuardia, and boarded the 6:15 PM flight to MIA. She would have to miss her meeting with the agent on Tuesday.
I was done with the drama.
We had an hour layover, then caught the last connection to Coconut Key.
It was midnight by the time we got back to JD’s. He was in the kitchen making a midnight snack before turning in for the evening.
Scarlett ran into his arms and gave him a big hug. JD winced, still sore from his wound. But that didn’t stop him from sharing a nice moment with his daughter.
“I promise, I’m going to stop fucking up,” she said.
JD didn’t buy it for one minute. “It’s your life, kiddo.”
“I know.”
“I’m just glad you’re safe.”
Scarlet rolled her suitcase into her bedroom and closed the door.
JD looked to me. ”Thanks for bringing her back.”
“Anytime.”
“Hopefully this is the last time.”
“She’s a handful, alright.”
“You’re telling me,” JD said.
“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
JD glared at me. “She gets it from her mother. Not me.”
I had a good laugh at that one.
“Oh, and I hate to break it to you, but you can’t stay here anymore.”
My jaw dropped. Suddenly, I felt small, like a little kid who had been kicked out of his home. “Uh, okay,” I stammered. I tried to play it off like I wasn’t hurt. “I was planning on finding a new place, anyway. There are some nice apartments on 23rd Street with a good view of the ocean.”
JD dug into his pocket and tossed a set of keys across the room.
I caught them in the palm of my hand. “What’s this?”
A wide smile curled on Jack’s lips. “My new boat. Your new home.”
I regarded him curiously. “What did you buy?”
JD just smiled.
The anticipation was killing me. But I'd have to wait until tomorrow to see his new boat. Tonight, I would crash on the couch.
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Author’s Note
Thanks for all the great reviews! I’m having such a good time writing Tyson and JD. I can’t wait to get started on the next adventure.
If you liked this book, let me know with a review on Amazon.
My Max Mars series is heavy with mystery and thriller elements, you might want to check it out.
Thanks for reading!
—Tripp
Max Mars
The Orion Conspiracy
Blade of Vengeance
The Zero Code
Edge of the Abyss
Siege on Star Cruise 239
Phantom Corps
The Auriga Incident
Devastator
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