Heck, it probably will sooner or later.
Chandler rubs his head. “In that case, I’m heading back to my room for the night. Make sure he gets back to his.”
“Will do.”
He grumbles something under his breath as he stomps away.
When I look around, I notice most of the crew has disappeared, and the ones left seem to be shutting everything down.
If this asshole thinks I’m going to spend the rest of the night—make that morning—backstage when I can be sleeping in a nice, cozy bed, he’s out of his mind.
Growing frustrated, I flag down a passing crew member. “Hey. Do you have a key to this room, by any chance? I’m with the band.”
“I don’t. But Bruce does.” He gestures for another man to come over. “She needs to get into the greenroom.”
“Sure thing.”
Bruce produces a key from his pocket and unlocks it.
My stomach twists before dropping to the floor.
I was expecting Phoenix to be mid-thrust when I walked in…
Not gone.
“Where the hell did he go?”
“Who?” one of the guys asks.
“Phoenix Walker. He was supposed to be in here.”
The guy points to a door on the other side of the room. “He probably went out that way. There’s a long hallway that leads out to the strip.”
Fuck.
I make a mental note to check all greenrooms, bathrooms, and whatever other rooms Phoenix intends to enter in the future as I walk down the corridor of our hotel.
I mutter a curse when I swipe the key card because I don’t hear voices or fake moans of pleasure.
Walking past my adjoining room in the foyer, I enter his suite.
After checking every possible nook and cranny, I come up empty.
Out of options, I go to Storm’s room so I can enlist his help.
I knock five times before he answers.
It’s clear he’s annoyed at being interrupted because he swings the door open and grunts, “What?”
“I can’t find Phoenix.”
He expels a long sigh. “Shit.” Turning his head, he bellows, “Be a good girl and stay put. I’ll be back later.”
“I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to,” some girl replies. “But don’t be gone for too long. I need that big angry monster inside me.”
Big angry monster?
I file that under things I didn’t need to know about Storm.
He closes the door behind him. “Where was Phoenix when you saw him last?”
“In the greenroom with some groupies.”
“You know there are two doors in the greenroom, right?”
I don’t miss the hint of jest in his tone.
“I do now.”
In my defense, the one and only time I was inside it was when I realized Phoenix had vanished.
I’ll never make that mistake again.
We stop at another room and Storm bangs on the door.
A buck-naked Memphis answers…along with a blonde whose lips are fused to his neck.
I keep my gaze trained above his waist.
Then I remember I’m young, single, curious…and he’s famous, nude, and hot.
Yup. Little Memphis is the opposite of little.
Evidently, the members of Sharp Objects all have large objects.
Memphis gives me a sly smile when he catches me staring. “You’re welcome to come inside. I’ve got plenty to go around.”
“She can’t,” Storm rumbles. “Phoenix is missing. Have you seen him?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Have you tried his cell?”
“Unless his number is the same one from high school, I don’t have it.”
After fetching his phone from his pocket, Storm brings it to his ear. “Straight to voice mail.”
My stomach knots.
The blonde kisses her way down Memphis’s stomach, drawing his attention back to her. “You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want my cock again.” He looks at us when she drops to her knees. “Good luck.”
Then he slams the door in our faces.
Storm marches down the hall. “Let’s check the casino downstairs.”
Planet Hollywood is essentially one giant circle which should make it easy to spot him…
If he was here.
Exasperated, we exit the hotel and walk onto the strip. It’s after two a.m., but it’s a weekend in Vegas so there are tons of people outside.
Which is why I don’t think twice when I notice a large crowd gathered around the Bellagio fountains.
Until we get closer and I notice a bunch of cops and firemen surrounding the area.