Play Dirty: Brooklyn Dawn Book 1

by Quinn, Cari

  I opened the door to find Angel Martin slumped in the middle of the studio’s lounge. It was separate from the recording area. Couches in every size and comfort level framed the room. Logan’s guitar collection was on display all over the house, but his favorites were down here for him and his guests to use.

  She’d tripped over his favorite Gibson. Her ridiculously high heel pierced the body as she draped her long, lean body over two others that she’d taken down with her. Her cheek was pressed to the fret of another as she idly plucked at the strings.

  “Fly, baby, fly.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “Fly.” She rolled to her back and stared up at me. She was wearing a skirt—if you could call it that. It was dangerously short.

  “Jesus.” Her eyes were beyond glassy and she was feeling no pain. I knew that look. Craved it every fucking day. Sweet oblivion.

  “Fly with me, Al?”

  “Get the fuck up,” I snarled.

  Memories were so ripe and raw that my voice was harsher than it should have been.

  Instant tears flooded her huge, tilted hazel eyes. She shook her head. “I like it down here.” She drew her fingers down the cherry red finish of the electric guitar she’d dragged down to the floor with her. The squeak of her fingers followed by the metal twang as a string snapped was like a trigger.

  I hauled her up off the floor and set her on the couch. She shook her foot to get the guitar off her heel, but gave up and flipped the shoe free. Her tear-stained face twisted into an ugly clown-like smile as she laughed. Streaks of purple makeup dripped down her cheeks and snaked down her neck. “Stupid shoes.”

  She shook her head in some internal song only she knew. The words fly angel fly on constant repeat.

  I ground my molars together to tamp down the rage building with each echoing word. Her low hum floated into an off-key childlike voice.

  “Enough,” I roared.

  Her tears rolled again. “Why are you so mean?”

  I bent down to look her in the face. “Why are you high?”

  “I need it. You don’t understand.”

  “I don’t fucking care. What’s my number one rule? My only fucking rule?”

  She slumped back on the couch and gave me an insolent shrug. “Rules. Wh’ver.”

  I set Logan’s guitars into holders. One was beyond fucked. The other was a mess of broken strings.

  “How the hell did you get in here?”

  Voices from upstairs in the main part of the house started to bleed into the white noise attacking my ears. The noise threatened to drag me under as she slowly slid down the couch. The nonsensical mumble of words had me tripping back on my feet.

  “Get out of here.” My voice was shattered glass. I rubbed my throat, the scar tissue growing more irritated with each octave I climbed.

  “But I can’t. He’s flying and I can’t catch him.” She dragged at her shirt until the pale skin of her chest was on display.

  I slammed my eyes shut. She was barely more than a kid.

  Bella’s voice, sharp and panicked, chased by Logan’s rumbling deeper voice. The shriek of a child, then the quick pound of feet.

  “Get out of here!” My voice was raw. “How dare you bring that here?”

  Angel’s tears turned to sobs as she curled into herself. Her once strange and individual hair was now a stringy white and green tangle of unwashed knots.

  Twenty and innocent.

  Or she had been.

  Twenty when she came to me with hope and so much talent. She’d broken me down with her hope. With her sweetness, no matter how many times I shut her down. She wanted to work. Wanted to find her true voice.

  She was well on her way to being one of the few who were brave enough to share it with the world.

  Now?

  She was clawing at her skin, reacting to a mix of synthetic drugs. I knew the look. She was coming down. The designer drugs were passed around at parties with booze. Heroin. A cocktail of something even worse that would flood her system on its endlessly seductive trip to bliss.

  Only the bliss was shorter and shorter. It required more for each trip.

  And the sharp teeth that dragged through flesh and bone afterward burned like battery acid.

  I backed into the studio and slammed the door shut. I couldn’t look at her.

  My hands shook as Logan entered the lounge and discovered the chaos waiting there. His startled eyes met mine through the soundproof glass panels along each side of the studio door.

  I slammed the side of my hand into the unforgiving oak of the door.

  One.

  Two.

  Three times.

  The screaming outside the door couldn’t reach me right now.

  It couldn’t follow me to the darkness and rage bubbling in my chest. The splinters in the door sliced at the rage and pushed it back.

  I swung the door open again.

  “The only thing I ever asked—ever. And you do this?”

  “Nash.” Logan’s voice was even and resolute.

  “Get out of my sight.”

  Angel scrambled off the couch, one heel on, one heel off as she stumbled up the stairs.

  Logan slammed his hand into the middle of my chest. “No.”

  My chest heaved as the wild beast in my chest shrunk down again. As it slid back under its shell in the corner of my brain where the rage always lived. Where the hate and fear and addiction grasped inky black tentacles.

  Where they lay in wait to go on that one last ride that would surely end me.

  “Let me handle it.” The determination in Logan’s gaze set me back another step.

  I nodded.

  I had no choice. My words had been stripped away. Of all the things I’d lost that night so long ago, my voice was what I missed most.

  My voice. Me. They were both shredded on the floor of the past.

  Coming to Logan’s had been a mistake. A favor owed or not, I should have stayed away.

  Logan would see that soon enough.

  Six

  As far as I was concerned, all destination weddings should begin and end with Hawaii. Especially when the sun was just about to set in the distance.

  Rain had soaked the area not an hour ago, but you wouldn’t know it from the sky. It was crystal clear with wisps of clouds. Some sort of traditional canoe with a sail was the only thing marring the line of the horizon.

  The wedding party slowly made our way down the beach to a circle of plumeria flowers in the same bright magenta and white ombré as our dresses. In between the clusters of bright pink were butter yellow blooms, creating a soft effect that matched the skyline in the distance.

  The wind had kicked up and the spray of the ocean teased my thighs. The sand was cool between my toes. The kickass heels I’d found to wear with my dress had been declared obsolete the moment I spotted the beach. In the end, I’d embraced the island vibe—as well as the copious amounts of rum offered to those in the wedding—and hung out on the fringes of the party.

  They didn’t really need me. Sure, it made the numbers even, but the tightly knit group was all about celebrating Lauren and West. The bride and groom only had eyes for each other. West in his khaki pants and white linen shirt with a garland of traditional maile leaves draped around his neck. His long sun streaked hair was tied back in a queue, but the shorter pieces had escaped to float on the sweet, briny breeze.

  His groomsmen matched him in clothing and that was about it. Warning Sign was as diverse in music as they were in temperament. The entire band was lined up, some with a few more scowls than others, but they had all showed up. I even caught Mal grinning when Lauren giggled through the lei tying part of the ceremony.

  My gaze drifted over Lauren with her white dress and flower belt that matched her flower crown. She was smiling so big her cheeks had to hurt. I didn’t know the happy couple well, but they seemed like the real deal.

  More importantly, they felt like forever. I’d been around enough couples who
were in the fake it til you make it camp to know these two were different. No hesitation in their approach to the minister, no missteps as they entered in the traditional wedding circle on this beautiful beach.

  For God’s sake, they didn’t even look around throughout the ceremony to take it all in. She only had eyes for him, and West was of a like mind.

  To be loved like that was unsettling. To give yourself completely to someone? Scary as hell. I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to do that, even if a tiny part of me longed for it sometimes.

  A few sniffles from the women around me echoed the emotions that foamed up inside me with as much lacy froth as the tide crawling up the beach.

  Love.

  Fidelity.

  Forever.

  West leaned down to touch his forehead to Lauren’s as he repeated his vows and they made their promises. His husky, rumbling voice rose clear and strong as he said, “I do”. As the officiant unwound the leis from their wrists to loop over first the groom then the bride, he said something in their lyrical native language. The two exchanged rings.

  Before he could tell West to kiss the bride, the impatient groom dragged her into his arms. In true Lauren fashion, she hopped up and wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him back.

  “Thank God they have their own room,” Mal muttered. His wife, Elle, was the first to cross the wedding party lines to drag him down to her by the ears and growl something to him before kissing him senseless.

  After that, the wedding party melted into a puppy pile of hugging and laughing friends.

  I backed away to give them their privacy.

  “Nice if you like that sort of thing.”

  I turned toward Jamie’s voice. “Hey, hooker.”

  One of her raven black eyebrows spiked. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

  I lifted my skirt to show the flask strapped to my thigh. “Might have a little something to do with it.”

  Jamie made a gimme gesture. “You’re holding out on me.”

  I laughed and handed it over.

  Jamie took a slug, then winced and handed it back. “Too sweet.” She nodded to the people crowded around West and Lauren. “Much like that. Did you catch those vows? Forever? Who pledges that?”

  “Most people who do the getting hitched thing.”

  Jamie shook back her hair. “They can keep it. I’d jump off a cliff first.”

  Considering my bestie’s penchant for all things adrenaline-inducing, that wasn’t much of a statement, but I was too buzzy to argue with her at the moment.

  Jamie had taken the casual dress instructions on the wedding invite to heart and wore a ripped Kiss shirt over a bold red bikini top and cutoff white shorts.

  “Nice outfit.”

  “Cute, right?” She turned to show me the threadbare back of the white denim. More than half her ass was hanging out. “Pretty sure I caught the professor checking out my ass.”

  I laughed. “Molly would rip his eyelids off and feed them to him.”

  Jamie threw back her head. “She’s a crazy bitch. Wouldn’t put it past her.” She shrugged. “Well, someone’s eyes were on my ass.”

  “Everyone’s are because you’re showing half your assets.”

  “They’re prime assets.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You couldn’t wear a dress for once in your life?”

  “Nope.”

  “What if I get married?”

  “I can be your best badass. Just don’t make me wear a goddamn dress. Besides, who would you marry?”

  I shrugged. “It might happen someday.”

  Jamie slung her arm around my shoulder. Without my heels, she was actually a few inches taller than me. Both of us were taller than average—well except for this particular group of people. “It’s you and me to the end, blondie. And don’t you forget it.”

  I wrapped my arm around her hips. “To the end, bitch.”

  She steered me up the beach toward the tents. “Let’s get some lobster into you. I think I smell some barbecue too. These crazy kids sure know how to throw a party. If I have to go to a wedding, at least I get to stuff my face.”

  “Is that all you care about?”

  “Since everyone outside of Brooklyn Dawn is paired up other than West’s sister, food is the only thing on my menu. Though if I had enough whiskey in me, I might go for Raven. She’s hot.”

  I laughed. “Ten bucks says you’ll find someone to drag off to a corner before the end of the night.”

  “I don’t take sucker bets.”

  We trudged up the sand to the trio of tents set up for the reception festivities. The minute we crossed the threshold of the tent, a server came over to us with a lei and a glass of champagne for each of us.

  “I could get used to this.” Jamie accepted her glass and downed the bubbly like a shot. “Anything stronger than this?”

  “That was for the toast, Miss.”

  “Oh, right.” Jamie patted the server’s arm. “Guess I’ll have to find another glass later. Bar?”

  The woman wasn’t ruffled. Even by Jamie’s standards, she was tame tonight. The server waved her arm gracefully toward the large bar along the back.

  “That’s what I’m talking about.” Jamie grabbed my hand and dragged me along.

  “Thank you,” I called back to the woman.

  We got to the long pop-up bar and Jamie rubbed her hands. “I require a real drink.”

  “Aloha, lovely lady.”

  I snorted. “No ladies here.”

  “I beg to differ. I see two of the prettiest ladies in the world, and I’m surrounded by beautiful women.”

  “Wow, laying it on thick.” Leaning on the bar, Jamie propped her head on her hands with an exaggerated bat of her lashes. “Think you’re getting a big tip there, pal?”

  “I’ve already been paid. Free bar.”

  “Oh, now this I like.” She stood up straight and patted her barely there shorts. “I could barely fit my emergency fifty in these pockets.”

  The bartender’s gaze raced over Jamie’s long, lean form. The playful hint to his Hawaiian nice guy routine turned into a heated gaze.

  I rolled my eyes. “Can you set us up with some tequila before you lose your tongue?”

  “Only place he’s losing his tongue is down my throat to find the worm.” Jamie gave him a wolfish grin.

  The bartender’s Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed and shifted behind the bar before he left us to find a bottle of tequila.

  “Didn’t even make it ten minutes,” I muttered.

  Jamie hopped on the bar stool. “He’s kinda yum. He’s no Jason Momoa, but he’s got that hot island dude thing going on. I could use the distraction.” She rolled her neck as if she was going to jump into the octagon. “It’s been a minute since I found someone interesting enough to get naked.”

  I understood that all too well. Jamie might have been a little more willing to take a chance with a random guy, but I’d been in stasis for far too long.

  Since that night.

  I smiled in thanks at the bartender when he poured me a shot. I slammed it back and shut my eyes against the barrage of memories that threatened.

  No.

  Nope.

  It was just all this love and couplehood stuff going on around me. That long ago night in the club had nothing to do with romance, but it had been the last time I’d felt truly alive.

  I tapped the bar and another tequila magically appeared.

  Jamie’s eyebrow rose. “Gonna let me catch up?”

  I shook my head and filled my mouth with a lime wedge. Then I downed the shot. Memories fizzled and faded with the tropical flavors. Not wine and shadows. No, here it was all tiki torches and floral scents. No reason to think about him.

  No reason at all.

  Why the hell did he keep scratching at my brain lately? I hadn’t thought about him since… God, almost a year ago. There was no way to avoid him entirely in the circles I ran in. He was a hermit of the first ord
er, but he was still one of the most sought after producers in the fucking world.

  And my world was all about music, even if I’d chop all the heels off all my Louboutins before I worked with him again.

  I stepped off my stool and stumbled a little. I was more used to heels than bare feet most days.

  “Lightweight.”

  “Shut up.” I flipped my hair out of my face. The style had started off cute but with the ocean spray and wind—well, I didn’t want to think about what I looked like now.

  “How about a Tequila Sunrise, sister?”

  I shifted back and eyed the glass our beefy bartender placed in front of me. I shouldn’t. Two shots of the potent top shelf tequila plus champagne was already asking for trouble. Too bad all my smart choices had disappeared like my shoes. I took the glass and lifted it. “Cheers.”

  “Mahalo.”

  When in Rome... “Right, mahalo.” I took a sip and hissed. Way too much tequila in there, but I took it anyway.

  Jamie glanced my way as I stepped away. “Where you off to?”

  “Gonna mingle.”

  “Want me to come?”

  I could tell she wanted to stay with tall, dark, and curly. Jamie might be a nine on the crazy scale, but she was off the charts when it came to loyalty. If I asked her to come with me, she would. I waved her off. “Have fun. I’ll be back.”

  If I had another few tequilas, I’d be hiding in a corner, possibly slipping into a coma. It had been a long day of prep and impromptu rehearsals. Lots of standing around with an impatient bride. No bridezilla in Lauren’s game. She’d just been so excited to get to the wedding and to her man.

  I couldn’t imagine being so eager to be attached to someone forever.

  Marriage wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of happiness in my world. Between fellow musicians who crashed and burned after coupling up too fast, or the old money types from my parents’ generation who viewed weddings as mergers, there wasn’t a whole lot of happiness attached to the word as far as I was concerned.

  A shrill whistle followed by peals of laughter drew my attention back to the reception. I was pretty sure I was supposed to be over there with the wedding party as they did an elaborate dance to introduce the bride and groom. Considering I had been a last minute addition, I decided staying out of the way was a much better option.