Not only does she admittedly want to ruin me, she’s the one and only thing on the planet that I can’t fucking have.
Fortunately, the shit I pulled last night will guarantee her a seat on the next flight home.
I just need her to get her ass in here and uncuff me first.
Pressure on my bladder constricts and I yell for her again. “Come on, Groupie.”
Finally, my bedroom door opens. Only it’s not her who walks inside.
It’s Storm.
“Why are you here?”
“I saw Lennon downstairs.” Lips twitching, he walks over to the bed. “Figured you were still a little tied up.”
The son of a bitch has jokes.
“Laugh it up while you can, fucker. It’s not happening again.”
“What do you mean?”
“Thanks to my drunken dip in the fountain, she’ll be getting the ax.”
Which probably explains why she never came in here. She’s pissed she got fired.
Too fucking bad.
The hand that was uncuffing my wrist stills. “Hold up. You did that shit on purpose?”
For someone with such a high IQ, he can be dumb as a brick sometimes.
“Fuck yeah, I did. I told you, I want her gone.”
Does anyone fucking listen when I speak?
Oh, that’s right. They’re all too busy profiting off my voice to give a fuck about the man behind it.
I’m no longer a person. I’m a product.
Storm’s eyes become tiny slits. “You’re an asshole.”
“How am I the asshole in this scenario? She’s the one who came here, remember?”
The vein in his forehead makes an appearance. “Because she needs the money.”
That gets a laugh out of me. “Yeah, right. Are you forgetting she lives like a princess in that nice, big house?”
Unlike us, Lennon didn’t have to want for a damn thing growing up. Everything was handed to her on a silver platter by her dad.
Crossing his arms, he stares me down. “Is that why she’s working at Obsidian?”
The only Obsidian I know is the strip club back in Hillcrest.
And fuck knows Lennon would never work there.
She wouldn’t even let me take off her shirt when we fucked during a blackout. Ergo, the likelihood of her taking off her clothes for a roomful of men doesn’t add up.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Taking mercy on me, he uncuffs one of my wrists. “I heard from a buddy back in town that she’s working there.” He frowns. “She obviously needs the money.”
And he needs to lay off the weed. “She’s not—”
“It’s where Chandler tracked her down, man. If you don’t believe me, ask him.”
A weird mixture of rage, jealousy, and uneasiness coils in my gut.
I want to ask him more about it, but the door opens and Lennon waltzes in. “Oh, you’re up.” Her eyes fall to my unbound wrists. “And free.”
“As much as you’re enjoying this, it’s not cool to leave me restrained so long. A man has to take a piss every once in a while.”
I’m getting ready to do just that when Chandler storms inside, waving around his phone.
“He jumped into the goddamn fountain last night?”
To her credit, Lennon doesn’t cower like most people do when he goes on a rampage. “I told you he went swimming.”
Storm snorts, which only pisses Chandler off more.
“You also told me you could handle the job.”
“I can handle it.” She sweeps a hand in my direction. “He’s not in jail. It didn’t hit the news—”
“There are pictures all over social media,” Chandler shouts. “You’re fired.”
Her strong demeanor diminishes. “But—”
“It’s not her fault,” I interject.
I don’t know why she’s working at Obsidian, but I do know she wouldn’t be unless she had no other choice.
As much as I don’t want her here, I don’t want her there even more.
“I lied and snuck out,” I say when he whips around to face me. “She tracked me down, though. She also convinced the cops to let me go. I think that warrants another shot.”
Chandler’s gaze is scrutinizing. “I thought you wanted her gone?”
“It was only her third night,” Storm cuts in. “And she’s already doing better than the others since she didn’t fuck him.”
Chandler doesn’t look swayed by this one bit.
“Christ. I went swimming in a damn fountain. No one got hurt or arrested, thanks to Lennon.” I take a step closer. “Fire her and it will get a whole lot worse. Trust me.”