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He didn’t answer right away. His shoulders lifted up, held, and he let out the breath as he took another long drag from his drink. His eyes found mine, and they weren’t void anymore. They were stormy.
I flinched.
His mouth flattened, and he grimaced. “Let’s talk about why you wanted to come here and not Naveah.”
It was like he threw a bucket of ice water over me, and swallowing over a knot, I glanced over. Fitz went to the booth’s door. The other two guards were on the edge toward the dance floor, the one remained at the bottom of our pathway.
We were good to talk.
I pulled my phone out and showed him Hoda’s text messages.
He read them, his jaw getting firmer and firmer until he scrolled to the end. He clicked on something, and then hit another button before almost shoving the phone back to me.
I took it, already looking. “What’d you do?”
“I sent them to my phone.”
“What?” I was scrambling. I hadn’t expected that from him. “Why?”
“Because that shit is bad.” He pointed a jabbing finger at my phone. “That shit can’t stay between us. That’s why you wanted to come here, isn’t it?” His eyes were blazing and fierce.
I shifted away, letting out a sigh.
That was messed up.
He was right. I needed to tell Kash.
I leaned back, my head resting against the back of the booth, and there, I felt the club swirling around us. Everything was swimming. I felt the waves pushing down on me. I was lost, hearing the techno bass, feeling the heat of the lights, the smell of the dry ice in the club, and he was right. He was totally right. I mean, I knew it, but seeing my brother’s reaction to Hoda’s text messages, I knew I’d been wrong.
But craaap.
Crap!
Crap!
I tasted salt and opened my eyes, everything blurring.
I was crying. Again.
I hated crying.
A hand circled my neck and I was pulled in to a chest. Matt’s arms wrapped around me again. He hugged me to his side. “Bailey. Man.” His hand began smoothing hair back from my forehead. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—Well, I don’t know what I meant, but if this is about Hoda and Quinn…”
I shook my head, the tears falling even faster.
It wasn’t. I wished it was.
He hesitated then, and finally, after maybe a minute of sitting there in silence, he spoke. “I think we should call Kash about this.” The admission came out of him in a rush, almost rueful, like he couldn’t believe he was saying what he was saying. Hishand shook as he said those words, then he smoothed it out, letting it fall to rest on my shoulder.
He was right.
And why was I crying?
EIGHTEEN
Kash
The inside of the warehouse was completely silent.
