Actually, I don’t even have to worry about murdering him since it looks like Sydney will be doing it for me. She won’t even make it a quick death. That girl looks like she is going to strap him to a chair and tear his toenails off one by one. Maybe she’ll castrate him too, play ping-pong with his balls.
Instinct has me rushing forward to grab Stevie as she crumples in Parker’s arms.
The last sixty seconds play on loop in my mind as a stare down at her.
I was pissed, walking out of my streaming room to a bunch of people shouting. When I saw her, everything came to a halt. I thought I was momentarily hallucinating. Stevie looked like an absolute vision in her tight gold gown. The light sparkling off the dress turned her ethereal. Transcendent. Until reality came crashing down.
I lift her out of Parker’s arms into a princess carry. Everyone is staring at her with mixed emotions, anger and concern bleeding together. Ignoring them, I walk her over to my bedroom, kneeing open the door. I lay her on my bed and untangle her hair from her face. Worry needles its way into my chest as I stare at her.
Seventeen thousand emotions are running through me, but Stevie’s safety is at the forefront.
Running my thumb over her wrist, I check her pulse. Her heartbeat is steadying out, and it seems like her breathing is relatively normal. I reach down and slip off her heels, placing them on the floor next to the bed. I give my room a quick once over, but it’s relatively clean minus a collection of empty glasses strewn about and my pile of jackets in the corner. I push off the bed and leave her to rest while I go back out to deal with the shitshow.
“Alright, everyone shut the fuck up and go sit on the couch.”
The three of them turn to look at me, and I cross my arms. In the distraction, Parker all but sprints away from Sydney and throws himself protectively into the corner of the couch, hugging a pillow to his chest.
Sydney huffs at me before trudging over and perching herself on the arm of the couch farthest from Parker. Jackson follows me over and sits down on the cushion next to Sydney. I lower myself to the coffee table so I’m facing them all.
I can see the wheels turning in Sydney’s mind. She’s working at a mile a minute, running through thousands of scenarios, planning hundreds of defense measures, trying to solve a puzzle she only has half the pieces to.
“Parker.” I turn to him, and he stares at me with big blue puppy-dog eyes. Fucking hell. “Care to explain how you ended up bringing Stevie back to our apartment?”
“Wait, you all know her?” Sydney cuts in.
Jackson just laughs, giving me a look that says, “all you, dude.”
“We met her at the VSAs, she was a server. Then we saw her again when we went to Electric Tyger. She hung out with us a little bit.”
“Yeah, if you call grinding on her ass in the club ‘hanging out.’”
Jackson has the gall to use air quotes.
“So, she is a groupie. Goddammit.” Sydney whips out her phone.
“No!” Parker and I shout, me lunging forward to rip Syd’s phone from her hand.
“Can you just listen to us for a second?” I plead. I might be pissed as hell at Parker for giving away our apartment location and bringing Stevie back here without any safety measures, but there is a kernel of sick happiness there as well.
Sydney narrows her gaze on me. Her bloodhound abilities rise as she studies me.
“You’re not telling me something. This seems like more than a two-hit wonder.”
Great. I’m really not sure how I’m going to get out of this unscathed. Parker and I might both be at equal risk of murder when this is all over. Although, my death at least might be a little swifter. Maybe.
“I might have run into Stevie a few times as Aleks, not Blade.”
“What’s a few times?”
“Like…four or five?”
“Four or five is a pattern, Aleksander.” She tilts her head. “Are you seeing her?”
“Not technically.”
“Meaning?”
“We went on two dates…”
“I knew it!” Parker shouts, throwing his pillow at me. “You’ve been proper chuffed lately, texting all the time. Nice one, mate.”
“Not. The fucking. Time.” I grind at him through closed teeth.
“Aleksander Knight. As your publicist, I need to know these things. I can’t do my job if you keep me in the shadows. How you all failed to mention this woman hasn’t escaped me. Aleks is not the only one in trouble here. You all are.”
“Oh, come on, what have I done?” Jackson throws his arms up.
“Don’t play pretend with me, Jackson Lau. Parker here might have had a hunch about Aleksander sneaking off, but I’ll bet a month’s worth of salary that you knew, without a doubt. I bet you even covered for him.”
Jackson purses his lips, looking in the opposite direction of Syd.
“Alright, we’ll deal with this later. What I want to know is how she ended up here.”
We all turn to Parker. He just stares at us with wide eyes, holding his hands out in front of his body.
“Now, now. Let’s not all gang up on Parker, okay?”
I grab the pillow he tossed at me and throw it back, whacking him.
“Stop screwing around.”
“Fine, fine. She was at the party I went to tonight.” He points to me. “Remember when I told you she seemed familiar? It’s because she is an Andwell. Her family runs in all the high society circles here. Now, don’t get me wrong. I didn’t know she was an Andwell until I got to the party and saw her. By then I’d already waved to her.”
“And she had no clue who you were or how you knew her.” Sydney sighs.
“No…”
“Which made her suspicious.”
“Kind of? She was getting into it with her ex and his new girlfriend, so I stepped in, took her to get some champagne and get away from the crowd. Those events are breeding grounds for twisted emotions. I don’t know how she did it, but she started piecing things together. She guessed who I was, and I just kind of…bolted.”
“You bolted.” Sydney stares at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Of course! And then the crazy chick ran after me, right through the party in her damn heels. All but threw herself into the car.”
“Crazy isn’t a nice word to use, English.”
We all whip our heads around to stare at the tall brunette leaning against the wall in the the hallway.
“And I didn’t throw myself into the car, I dove, gracefully.”
“If a stone is graceful,” Parker scoffs.
She ignores us, padding into the kitchen, dress swishing as it drags around her. We watch as she begins to open random cupboards until she locates a glass and fills it up with water from the fridge dispenser. She takes a sip, eying me over the rim. Normally, she bleeds her emotions, but right now, I can’t read a thing.
She is stone cold.
“I can’t believe you just told her who you were,” Sydney groans.
“Actually, Parker never verbally admitted he was English. Just ran like his ass was on fire.” She sits on one of the stools at the island. Everyone is twisted on the couch to watch her. “I highly suggest you never try to rob a bank or anything, you’d be god-awful.”