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Dylan rubbed his eyes, "Well, next time, I will." He shook his head, looking down at the pictures. His eyes froze on the singer, his heart skipping a beat.
Lisa looked at him with a concerned expression, "Do you happen to know who she is? I haven't gotten around to asking if anyone knew her. It's hard to say because I'm pretty sure she's wearing a wig."
Dylan thought for sure he was seeing things wrong. There was no way that was Rose in the photo. Rose never looked like that.
The Rose he knew wore lighter colors and cute outfits to make her students happy. She had skirts with instruments on them, for God's sake. Rose didn't wear tight-fit leather jeans with a red see-through blouse. Rose didn't wear dark makeup and have bright pink hair.
His body ran cold, taking in several other photos. Rose was wearing different outfits, and in each image, she wore a pink wig. He knew it might make other people look twice, but he could tell. He knew his mate anywhere, and here she was.
"You okay?" Lisa asked, looking down at the photos, "Something wrong?"
"No." Dylan shook his head. "Thank you for getting these. This means a lot to me. I know it wasn't easy." He looked at her outfit before shaking his head. "And I will allow this to slip because you did. But next time, don't agree to something like this. I would have been happy to make the call to the photographer myself."
Lisa chuckled, "If he turns out to be a dud and won't leave me alone, I will." She turned with a smile. "Is there anything else you need before I head back to my desk?"
"No." He shook his head, looking back toward the pictures. His stomach was in knots seeing Rose. He needed to get ahead of this situation. "But I'll be out of the office the rest of the day, so hold my calls."
Lisa slipped through the door, and Dylan moved quickly. He grabbed his jacket and hurried out of the office to his car.
He knew exactly where he was going, and he just might kill someone. He got into his car and pulled out of the parking garage like a bat out of hell.
He headed for Slick's building across town, gripping the steering wheel tightly. How the hell had Slick figured this all out before he had? He was dating Rose. He should have known way before him.
But that begged the question, why didn't Rose tell him? He might have understood why not on the first date and maybe the second. But for God's sake, she should have by now.
He sped up. Nerves and anger pushed him forward. Slick was up to something, and Dylan needed to put a stop to it. Rose was in danger if he didn't, and he wasn't going to allow what happened to Jazzy to replay again. He wasn't fucking this up too.
Slick was going to try to convince Rose to sign a contract with him. He knew he would, and Rose could lose things important to her. Slick was a slimy little asshole that would get what he wanted one way or another, and if Dylan didn't hurry, he would be too late.
TWENTY-ONE
DYLAN
Dylan pulled up at Slick's building and felt a shiver run down his body. He hated being here, and it reminded him of Jazzy. He quickly shook off the feeling, not having time to waste. Rose needed him.
He went inside, and the secretary stopped him, speaking in a snotty tone, "Do you have a meeting? Slick is very busy at the moment and doesn’t have time for a walk-in."
Dylan growled at her, warning her to back off. He didn't want to spend a damn minute waiting any longer.
The gal froze, stiffening in her chair. Dylan walked past her desk, straight for Slick's office down the hallway at the end. He knew the exact door, and he knew where Slick would be sitting.
Slick was seated at his desk, and his eyes flicked up as the door bounced off the wall, shaking the entire room. He glanced at Dylan before pushing himself back in his chair, holding an empty expression.
"Where is Rose?" Dylan asked in a growl, having no time for games. He tried calling her on the way, but she never answered. He was worried Slick already had her too deep in his bullshit.
"I don't know," Slick said, looking bored. "But even if I did, I wouldn't be telling you."
He looked around Slick's office, taking in the cheap furniture and the wall of liquor. Slick was always one to cover himself in the finer things, but Dylan knew it wasn't his own hard-earned money.
"Where is she?" Dylan asked again, taking another step into his office. "Tell me where she is."
Slick scowled. "I honestly don't know." He folded his hands together. "But it seems she went running to you. How else would you know to come here? I warned her to stay away from you, but it seems she didn't listen. I should have figured. She doesn't listen well."
Dylan blinked, not understanding. What did he mean? The confusion only angered him more. "Stay the fuck away from her, Slick. I mean it, fuck off."
Slick pushed himself up and glared at Dylan. He smirked. "That's not possible. You see, Dylan, I have the upper hand here. You do not. Do you think you can come in here and yell at me to do something? Well, that's not how it works. I figured you would know that after Jazzy."
Dylan growled, hating how he was saying Jazzy's name so easily. He loathed the man as he tilted his head, watching Dylan's every move.
