Play Dirty: Brooklyn Dawn Book 1

by Quinn, Cari

  Better safe than sorry.

  When we got back to the hotel, Jamie was getting bitchy because she hadn’t been fed—again. The girl needed a damn trough.

  “I want the biggest burger they can make,” she said as she disengaged the locks to our room.

  And I wanted the biggest bubble bath. Maybe we’d both get what we wanted.

  “Holy shit. You must have epic fucks. Look at that I’m sorry. Too bad he loses points for originality.”

  “What are you…” I lost my breath. “Wow.”

  In the middle of the coffee table, there was the largest vase of roses I’d ever seen. Long-stemmed deep red ones with little sterling silver buds tucked in amongst the dark leaves. The arrangement was stark and over the top without even a touch of baby’s breath to soften it.

  Bold and jagged like Alex in every way.

  “He doesn’t know you aren’t into roses?”

  Normally, I wasn’t, but this wasn’t a typical arrangement. There had to be fifty roses in the bundle with who knew how many sterling ones.

  I couldn’t resist the pull of them. I slid my fingertip along the largest bloom. There were still thorns on the stems. I smiled. So freaking Alex.

  The card tucked in with the flowers made my smile widen.

  I know you’ll be lovely tonight. As always.

  A

  That was his slashing writing. I knew it well. I had it bleeding all over the pages of my songbook.

  I pressed the card to my lips and the hint of his clean scent still clung to it. Not a print out of his handwriting. He’d actually written the card.

  Suddenly, tonight’s show wasn’t going to be such a hardship.

  Hell, now he actually deserved the surprise I’d been holding on to.

  I opened the email with the extra video I’d put on my personal account. The one of “Dream On” that showed me on display for the world, and yet secretly only for one man.

  Him.

  Dammit, it felt like some days were always for him.

  And that was scary as hell. Yet I still sent it. The whooshing telltale sound of the email flying into the ether nearly made me shudder.

  Such a big step. Would he even realize the courage it had taken for me to send that? Would he care?

  I followed it up with a text, not expecting a reply.

  Maybe that was the way to handle this. And him. No expectations. Just enjoyment of the moment.

  Whatever it brought.

  Twenty-Four

  Twelve cities in fourteen days was probably a new personal best. Not that best was the word I would use at the moment.

  I dragged myself to the dressing room and dropped onto the sofa, completely wrung out. The show that night had been amazing, but only because there was an internal switch in my brain when it came to stage time. I knew I was on the last of my personal battery cells. I’d dug deeper than usual to find the energy for the encore. And the crowd here in DC could have taken a good three more songs without complaint.

  Some nights, I knew the limits of the crowd. A Tuesday crowd might not be as ready to party as a Friday one. Sometimes the ratio of reserved fans to the outward rockers tilted the wrong way.

  Tonight, had been a good night. We’d had them in the palm of our hands, but even Jamie was maxed out at this point. We’d given them everything.

  I could literally squeeze sweat out of my jumpsuit. Ugh.

  “Lindsey, you have a man waiting for you.”

  My heart tripped. I glanced over at Shannon, one of our backstage techs. “Who?”

  She shrugged. “He wouldn’t say. He was wearing a lot of black and a scowl.”

  Again, my heart kicked. It couldn’t be. I’d been begging Alex to come out and see me for days. That stubborn man wouldn’t budge an inch to text me when he was working, let alone travel out of New York to come to Washington, DC.

  At least he was replying now, more or less. Not always, especially when aforementioned work was involved. But since I’d received that gorgeous bouquet from him, he’d been trying.

  I knew the man waiting for me probably wasn’t Alex. I still wanted to race out and check.

  Damn him.

  I flipped my huge halo of hair over my shoulder and smiled at Shannon. “Let him know I need to shower and change.”

  “He’s in the green room and seemed very impatient.”

  Another point that it could be Alex. I’d held my ass for weeks, so he could too. But the burst of energy from knowing it might be him was welcome.

  Jamie came up behind Shannon, her height dwarfing our little blue-haired dynamo. Shannon jumped and Jamie bared her teeth.

  Shannon scurried off. “I’ll tell him you’ll be a few minutes,” she said from halfway down the hallway.

  “Must you scare the crew?”

  Jamie shrugged and collapsed on the couch beside me. Her wet hair was twisted into a braid, her face scrubbed free of the little makeup she did allow Genie to put on her. Her post-show ritual was an immediate shower. Then again, it was way easier for her to strip out of her stage clothes.

  Me? I had to peel out of a catsuit and my stage makeup was more in line with a clown’s at this point.

  Another reason I wanted to strip stage Lindz off. I didn’t want Alex to see me all exhausted and drawn.

  My skin started to buzz. Could he really be here? I’d told him I was off for a couple of days. Not that he’d bothered to text me back after I’d dropped a hint the size of a Volkswagen.

  “Yo, earth to Lindz.”

  I glanced over at Jamie. “Huh?”

  She shook her head with an eyeroll. “I said, I thought we could hit a few of the clubs tomorrow downtown. See what’s what in the nightlife.”

  Jamie loved to check out the local clubs, the more underground the better. Usually, I didn’t mind hanging with her. We’d found our last opening act that way, and now Take Three was burning up the club circuit with their first headline tour.

  Not as big as the shows we did, but they had that killer hunger and the drive to find their audience. Oh, to be new and not jaded. I loved going on stage—it was still the biggest thrill of my life—but I missed being hungry.

  Well, for something other than Alex. Unfortunately, that hunger was gnawing and way more distracting than it should be.

  “Hello.” Jamie snapped her fingers in my face.

  I shoved her hand away. “Quit it.”

  She sighed. “You are totally not coming out with me.”

  “I’m just not feeling it.”

  “No, because you’re gonna go bang Mr. Grey.”

  “Shut up. I didn’t say that.” I crossed my arms. “He’s not a Mr. Grey anyway.” Okay, so he liked to pull my hair and maybe was a little into breath play, but…

  Jesus.

  I definitely couldn’t lead with that information.

  “I recognize the look.” She uncrossed her endless legs and stood. “And your suit is probably already juicy at the thought of that D.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Probably what you’ll be saying in a few hours.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to see him.”

  “Right. I bet George is on speed dial to get you to the airport.”

  I shrunk down on the couch. “I don’t know.”

  I was tempted. God, how I was tempted. But Alex made precious little time for me due to the studio project he was working on. Probably multiple projects, the secretive bastard. What if I showed up and he just blew me off anyway?

  Then I’d have to murder him.

  I only had a couple of days off and I didn’t really want to spend time weighing down his body to toss it in the Hudson. Or if he did actually make time for me because I was in town, was that worse? I didn’t want to just be the itch he scratched when it was convenient. I’d never been that girl and wouldn’t become her for Alexander Nash.

  Jamie stared down at me. “Just don’t lose your head.”

  “Where’s it going to go?”

  �
��You know what I mean. Don’t be fucking obtuse.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Fuck you.” She flipped her braid back so it swung between her shoulder blades. “Later.”

  “Love you too,” I called after her.

  She held up two middle fingers as she sailed out the door.

  My catsuit had seen better days. Thankfully, I had a couple versions of it because this one was on death’s door. I didn’t even bother putting it aside to ask if Mel, our wardrobe girl, could resurrect the sparkly suit. It went right into the trash can in my dressing room. I headed to the small bathroom for a quick shower, my skin prickling because it could finally breathe again.

  I refused to believe it was because he might be down the hall.

  In fact, I took an extra few minutes in the shower to deep-condition my hair and then lather up my skin with lotion after the shower. I even did a quick blow-dry of my curls.

  If Alex was here, he’d have to hold his ass this time.

  Teagan knocked on the door as I was tugging on my boot. “Hey, the last shuttle is ready to leave. Do you need them to come back for you? Or are you ready?”

  “I have to make a pit stop. Someone wants to talk to me.”

  “Oh.”

  “Ready?” Cooper’s deep voice came from behind Teagan.

  She jumped and flattened her hand against her chest. “Dammit, Coop.”

  “What?” His dark brown eyes warmed as he slung his arm around her shoulders. “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

  She elbowed him in the gut. “I swear, you guys get off on freaking me out.”

  He hauled her closer and kissed her forehead. “Because you are so damn jumpy.”

  Teagan slung her arm around his back. She’d finally started easing into the natural brotherly affection that everyone in our band seemed to have. I frowned a little at the puppy dog level of adoration going on in Cooper’s gaze.

  Hmm. Maybe not so brotherly there.

  Teagan glanced over at me. “Want us to wait for you?”

  “No, you guys go ahead.”

  “Okay. I think we’re going to head out for some food.”

  I smiled. “Have fun.”

  Teagan gave me one last look, her huge bluebell eyes making sure I was good. “Okay. See ya.”

  I couldn’t hold off any longer. Either it was Alex or a VIP. If it was a VIP, I’d probably have to do a lot of ass-kissing.

  I grabbed my bag and phone before heading toward the green room. I couldn’t stop myself from checking for a message one last time. Naturally, there wasn’t one.

  “Ass,” I muttered. I knocked lightly and opened the door.

  There was no one in there, save for an old Brooklyn Dawn poster ripped in two and a hole where my face used to be. Not just a cut-out. No, this was burned straight through.

  I tripped on a bump in the carpet as I backed away and nearly tumbled into the hallway. Still bent over, I slammed into the metal doorknob with my ribs and hissed. Only a quick grab on the doorjamb kept me from falling flat on my ass.

  “Lindsey?” Darcy was walking down the hallway, but when she saw my face, she moved into a sprint. “What’s wrong?”

  “Who was in here?”

  Darcy gripped my arm. “The green room? No one since before the show.”

  I dropped my bag and clutched my aching side. “Shannon came to my dressing room. Said someone was here to see me.”

  Darcy eased by me into the room and swore. She lifted the little mic she had attached to her ear at all times. “Shannon, are you still here?” She paused, obviously listening to someone talking. “Where is she? What do you mean she’s gone?”

  I dragged in a panicked breath but forced myself to settle. Dammit, I was usually better with this kind of thing. Fans were intense sometimes and some weren’t balanced. They just didn’t usually get this close to me. At least not in a damn long time.

  Darcy was barking orders and two security men came charging down the hallway.

  Instantly, I wondered if I was overreacting. It was just a poster. But it didn’t feel like just a prank. It made my skin crawl and the hair along my nape stand up. The fact that Darcy’s skin was as gray as mine steadied me. Darcy was cool under pressure.

  Usually.

  I was pretty sure the last time I’d seen her get this worried about something was when I got stuck out over the crowd during a solo for an extra three songs. That night, she’d been certain she would have to go out and get me with a crane.

  Jamie had come to the rescue that night, taking me back on her mini stage. Improv nights were stressful and usually incredible at the same time. We’d sung two Lita Ford songs and a Heart cover with a Joan Jett chaser as we came back to the main stage.

  Darcy had been screaming then.

  This quiet Darcy…

  Yeah, it made me itchy to leave. To get as far away from the scene as possible. At the same time, it was my responsibility to keep my band and the people we employed safe.

  Which meant I had to talk to Donovan. And I so didn’t want to do that.

  I’d fought long and hard to keep Donovan’s current brand of ultra-security away from our tour. I didn’t want to make everything a damn circus. Especially with Warning Sign’s still all too fresh wounds from what had happened during the promotional shows for their last album release.

  Now security would be out of my damn hands.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I tipped back my head as more security came through. Most of the staff had been already breaking down to leave. No one saw anything.

  Shannon couldn’t be found. She’d told Darcy she was flying home to see her family for the couple of days we had off. While I’d been dicking around in the dressing room for an hour, Shannon had been on her way to the airport for a late flight.

  So many fuckups in one little window of time.

  “Miss York?” I turned toward the voice. A cop who looked about as tired as I was gave me a wan smile. “I’m Officer Jakoby. May we speak?”

  “Of course.”

  He led me back into my dressing room. A coffee service had been put together. Normally, I didn’t go for coffee at midnight, but I had a feeling I was going to need it.

  I poured myself a cup. “Would you like one?”

  “No, thank you.” Though he looked at it longingly.

  I poured an extra cup and handed it to him. “I won’t tell. I think we both need it.”

  He accepted the cup. “It’s been a long night.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  He waited for me to sit down. “Can you tell me anything about the man you were supposed to be meeting?”

  I shook my head and took a sip before speaking. “I wasn’t expecting anyone. Mostly.”

  He set his cup aside. “Mostly?”

  I shrugged. “We do a lot of VIP things for executives. Sometimes through our label, sometimes friends and family, sometimes just the venue itself.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “And…”

  “I’m seeing someone and wondered if it was him.”

  “Would he do something like this?”

  “No.”

  “You’re sure?”

  I nodded. “It’s not Nash’s style.”

  “Nash?” He took out a notebook. His large blunt fingers made the small notebook seem as if it was better suited to a child.

  I bit my lip. It wasn’t like we were keeping things a secret, but we weren’t exactly shouting that we were seeing one another from the rooftops either.

  The officer looked up from his notebook. “Is there a problem?”

  “We’re both very private people.”

  His eyebrow rose.

  “As much as one can be when we’re both famous.”

  “Ah, I understand discretion, Miss York. This is DC.”

  I flushed. “It’s not an affair so much as we just don’t like to advertise.” I blew out a breath. “Alexander Nash is his name.” At his blank look, I folded my arms across my chest. “Unless y
ou’re a musician, or a music aficionado, you probably wouldn’t have heard of him. He’s a producer.”

  “Ah.” He nodded and scribbled a few more things. “Is there a way to get a hold of him?”

  I nodded. “I can contact him.”

  “I’d appreciate a phone number.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t give that out. Not my number to give. However, I can give you the head of our label.”

  His face, originally open and genial, suddenly closed down. “Is that like giving me the name of your lawyer? I’m trying to help. You do understand that, correct?”

  “I do. And I’m not trying to be difficult.” Except obviously, I was. I huffed out a breath. “Can I call my manager at least? Then I’ll know what steps to take.”

  “At this hour?”

  “She’s on the west coast. It shouldn’t be too hard to find her.”

  He inclined his head and held out his card. “This is my information. While you’re making the call, I’ll speak with security.” Then he stepped out into the hall, which should have been nearly empty. Instead, it was now buzzing with so many people that my gut wouldn’t stop churning.

  I contemplated calling Jamie, but I didn’t need her brand of crazy added to the night.

  I dug out my phone. I didn’t really want to go straight to Donovan this late at night. Hell, Lila Crandall wasn’t exactly at the top of my list either. I was about to cause a shitstorm.

  It wasn’t as if I didn’t deal with stalkers on the regular. Being a female lead singer, it kind of came with the territory. But this wasn’t the only incident.

  I’d considered the random phone calls with the odd messages as pranks or just as general weirdness. I still hadn’t had a chance to do the reverse lookup on the number, but I had changed mine just in case. When no more calls came in, I’d pushed them to the back of my mind.

  There was a reason why I often changed my number. People sold celebrity phone numbers all the time. But the fact that the calls had come in on my very personal phone, the one that only a handful of people knew—

  Well, it wasn’t good. So, I’d ditched the number and gotten a new one.