SIN: I’m drunk and wishing you were here. Fuck. I miss you, sweet girl.

  “Was that before or after you had her practically humping you, asshole?” I growled at my phone’s screen.

  “Huh?” Aubree asked groggily from her bed.

  “Nothing,” I snarled.

  Ignoring the rest of his texts, I did a quick search on the private investigator who sent me the pictures. Less than ten seconds later, I had his number and was calling.

  Pacing out into the living room, I waited for someone to answer.

  “Lewis and Son,” a deep voice barked. “This is Barrie Lewis.”

  “Are you the Lewis or the Son?” I snapped.

  “I’m the Lewis,” he answered with amusement lacing his voice. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

  “I got a present from you this morning,” I informed him. “My name is Roanna King, and I want to know why the fuck you sent me those goddamn pictures.”

  There was a pause on his end during which I heard him shifting papers. “Ah, yes. Miss King. I was hired on your behalf by a…hold on…a Judge Blaylock. The judge said he was a friend of your father’s and that he was worried your boyfriend was cheating on you. One of my guys spent the entire weekend following him around Vegas. I didn’t see the pictures myself, ma’am, but from what my guy tells me, he got plenty of proof that your man has indeed been stepping out on you.”

  Judge Blaylock?

  Who the fuck was that?

  I didn’t know who the man was or why he was in Sin’s and my business.

  Those pictures were my worst fear, the one thing I hadn’t let myself think about since Sin and I had started seeing each other, but it had been at the back of my mind the entire past four months.

  During that time, I’d begun to relax, thinking maybe I really was enough to hold Sin’s attention and he wouldn’t cheat on me.

  Once again, it was being tossed in my face that I’d given him way too much fucking power over me.

  “Miss King?” Barrie Lewis’s voice asked with concern at my ear.

  “I’m still here,” I gritted out.

  “I’m sorry my guy couldn’t reassure you that you had a good man, Miss King.” His voice actually did sound regretful, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. “But I see this kind of thing every single day. People can’t stay monogamous to save their lives. Lucky for you there was someone who had your back and let you see how this guy really is before you got in too deep.”

  I was already in too deep.

  But even as hurt as I was, I couldn’t let those pictures float around out in the universe. Whoever this Judge Blaylock guy was, he could very well have his own copy and use them to make Sin’s life uncomfortable. Sin and the other Tainted Knights were rising celebrities, and trashy magazines would be all kinds of greedy to take those pictures off the judge’s hands. Kale had been hit sideways by a single picture of him at some stupid party the band’s road manager set up.

  I was pissed, there was no doubt about that, but I loved Sin too much not to do something to try to stop this before it got ugly.

  I blew out a pained breath. “Mr. Lewis, you sound like a nice enough man, but you’re not coming across as all that bright. I have no idea who Judge Blaylock is. I’ve never even met the man as far as I know. And honestly, my mother never knew who my father was. So I’m more than a little confused why this man took it upon himself to have you investigate my boyfriend, regardless of what you found.”

  A stunned silence filled my ear before he choked out, “I think we should meet to discuss this, then, Miss King.”

  25

  Sin

  I rolled out of bed with the mother of all hangovers.

  Between the whiskey tasting the night before followed by a shit-ton of beer, my head and stomach were equally trying to kill me. Beside me, Cash was snoring so loud it was a wonder the walls weren’t shaking.

  With Lucy’s bachelorette party joining ours at the strip club the night before, Cash and I had ended up sharing a room because the other rooms in the suite were occupied by couples fucking like rabbits all night.

  A long, hot shower later and I was coherent once again.

  And missing Roanna.

  I searched my stuff, looking for my phone, and finally found it tangled in the covers on the bed under Cash. Shoving at his shoulders, I tried to wake him up. “Get up, man. We got a plane to catch in a few hours.”

  Groaning, he lifted his head. “When Gray has his bachelor party, remind me not to drink so much all weekend.”

  “Yeah, I need that reminder myself.” Scrubbing a hand over my face, I tried to turn on my phone, only to realize it was dead. Muttering a curse, I found my portable charging brick and plugged it in, my stomach tossing as I waited for my phone to juice up enough so I could check to see if I had any missed texts or calls from Roanna.

  There weren’t.

  Fuck.

  She was still pissed.

  All weekend, she hadn’t taken any of my calls or responded to any messages. Her damn friends wouldn’t even answer so I could find out if she was okay or not. The one time I did get Genesis to pick up, Ro had hung up the phone before I could even speak to her.

  “Hey.” I nudged Cash with my foot when he started snoring again. “How many flowers do you think it will take for Roanna to forgive me?”

  His face was pressed into his pillow, so his voice was muffled. “What did you do?”

  “Didn’t tell her I was coming with you guys. She didn’t know until Thursday night.”

  “That was kind of shitty of you, dumbass.” He lifted his head, his face pinched as he thought about my question regarding the flowers. “I don’t know. A few dozen at least, I figure.”

  I found the website for the local florist close to Roanna’s apartment. It was open even on a Sunday, so I placed an online order for three dozen red and white roses. It was the first time I’d ever sent flowers to anyone, so I struggled for a few minutes with what to write on the card. Deciding to keep it short and to the point, I went with “I’m sorry, sweet girl” and ended it with a heart emoji and my name.

  She was supposed to get it before my plane even landed at LAX, so I hoped she would be glad to see me when I got to her place later.

  Everyone was slowly getting up and eating the buffet-style breakfast someone must have ordered beforehand. Platters of scrambled eggs, breakfast meats, hash browns, and French toast were set up. Needing the grease to combat my roiling stomach, I loaded down a plate and sat at the huge dining table the guys and I had played poker at Friday night.

  Kassa and Gray were already sitting there with Kin and Jace. I sat between the two chicks who seemed to be just as hungover as I was.

  “Good thing you drove,” Jace told his girlfriend, feeding her a bite of bacon from his own plate. “You don’t look like you could handle being up in the air today, baby.”

  “It’s your fault,” she grumbled, chewing slowly. “What kind of shit was that we were drinking when we got back here last night? It was so smooth I didn’t even notice I drank so much of it.”

  “That’s because it was a twenty-five-year-old scotch,” Gray informed her. “Harris’s dad called the bar where we did the whiskey tasting yesterday and bought us each a bottle as a memento.”

  “Yeah, well, Jace only has about a third of his bottle left.” She pushed her plate away then folded her arms on the table and laid her head down. “Kassa, no whiskey at your bachelorette party.”

  All the blonde could do was groan in agreement.

  I listened and watched them in silence as I ate my breakfast. When the bachelorette party showed up at the strip club the night before, I started missing Roanna even more. Lucy would have invited her if I’d asked, but that would have meant actually telling Ro about my trip to Vegas before I was ready.

  In hindsight, I should have stopped being a pussy and told her. Then I wouldn’t have to go home to a pissed-off girlfriend, and I could spend the next few days lost in her, where I’d wanted to be all damn weekend.

  ***

  I was walking out of LAX with Cash a few hours later when my phone rang.

  Hoping it was Roanna calling to tell me she’d gotten the flowers and she forgave me, I was disappointed to see it was actually Emmie.

  Cash glanced over at my phone as we stopped to grab a cab. “What did you do?” he laughed when I didn’t answer immediately.

  “I didn’t do shit. I was with you all weekend. Did you see me do anything I shouldn’t?”

  “Point taken. Better answer it before she starts breathing fire again.”

  Cursing under my breath, I swiped my thumb over the screen and lifted it to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Good, you’re on the ground. I’ve been trying to call you for about an hour but figured your phone was on airplane mode.” Her voice as cool, clipped, but I couldn’t tell if she was pissed at me or not. “Come to my office. We need to talk.”

  “Can it wait? I’m on my way to see my girl,” I told her.

  “No, it can’t wait. Not even an hour. Come straight up to my office as soon as you get here. We have a situation regarding our friend Judge Blaylock.”

  It took me a second to place the name, but when I did, I stiffened. “What the fuck does he want? I thought you took care of him and his whiny little bitch of a grandson.”

  “We can discuss that when you get here. Hurry your ass up.”

  “Emmie—” But she’d already hung up on me.

  Cash was holding the door open to the cab he’d hailed for us. “Problems?”

  “Fuck if I know,” I muttered, tossing my carry-on in the trunk and climbing in beside him. Leaning forward, I gave the driver Emmie’s office address even as I pulled up Roanna’s contact information. It rang twice before going to voice mail.

  At least her damn phone was on now. She’d had it powered off all weekend, and I’d been pushed straight to voice mail every time.

  Gotta go to Emmie’s office for a second. I’ll stop by your place when I’m done. Missed you, sweet girl.

  I hit send on the text and almost immediately saw that she read it, but I waited in vain for her to reply.

  Emmie’s office was closer than Cash’s apartment, so I was dropped off first.

  Even though it was late afternoon on a Sunday, there was a security guard sitting at the desk when I walked in. Seeing me, he gave me a nod in greeting and pointed to the elevators. “She’s expecting you.”

  “Yeah,” I grumbled. “The woman’s got a stick up her ass today.”

  He grinned in agreement as I stabbed the call button for the elevator. “When doesn’t she?”

  “Fuck if I know.”

  Most of the floor Emmie’s actual office was on was dark, but I knew the place pretty well and found my way without having to turn on the lights. Her secretary wasn’t at her desk, so I knocked before opening the door when she yelled for me to come in.

  Pushing the door open, I took two steps inside and stopped in my tracks when I saw Roanna sitting in one of the chairs in front of Emmie’s desk. Beside her, a short but fit guy in his late forties sat with a stack of files on his lap.

  Emmie waved me in when I just stood there eating up the sight of Roanna. Her face was pale, her lips cracked, and she was wearing those damn Nightmare Before Christmas pajama pants that always made her ass pop, with a matching themed hoodie. Her hair was pulled up into a messy knot on top of her head as she flipped through her own stack of files.

  “Barrie Lewis, meet Tate Sinclair.” The guy lifted his head, smiling grimly in greeting before pulling a few pieces of paper from the top file on his lap and offering them to Roanna.

  She took them and scanned them, pretending I wasn’t even in the room.

  “What’s this about?” I demanded, crossing to Roanna. She hadn’t looked at me once since I walked in. Crouching down beside her, I touched her leg. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  Her fingers clenched around the files in her hand, and she stared straight ahead as she spoke. “Did you have a good time?”

  “It was a fun weekend, but I missed you. I wished you were with me the entire time.” I rubbed my hand up the back of her calf, feeling her tremble, and my heart jumped in triumph that she couldn’t hide her reaction to me.

  “Good,” she said with a nod. “Glad it was fun.”

  “We have a situation, Sin,” Emmie stated, pulling my eyes to her. “Judge Blaylock has been having you followed.”

  “And?” What the fuck did that have to do with anything? “I haven’t done shit to be ashamed of or that could hurt the band, so what’s the problem?”

  My manager picked up a stack of papers from her desk and offered them to me. Pissed I had to move away from Roanna, I straightened and took them from her. It wasn’t actually a stack of papers, but pictures, almost half an inch thick. Pictures of me and the guys.

  At the strip club.

  Goddamn it.

  I flipped through them, my stomach knotting more and more with each one I saw.

  Cursing, I threw them back on her desk and pulled Roanna up from her chair. The files on her lap fell to the floor, scattering papers in every direction. I cupped her face, my fingers shaking as I tilted her head up so she had to meet my gaze. “That stripper came over, and Cash was being an ass. He told her to give me a lap dance. Those damn pictures don’t tell the whole story. They don’t show when I pushed her off me and told her to leave me the fuck alone.”

  “Okay,” she said calmly.

  Too calm.

  Why wasn’t she yelling at me? Why wasn’t she more upset? If the roles were reversed and it were me being blindsided with pictures of someone grinding on her lap, I would have been tearing the place apart in a jealous rage.

  “Those pictures were delivered to Roanna earlier today,” Emmie informed me. “Mr. Lewis here was hired on her behalf by Judge Blaylock to follow you around and find proof that you were stepping out on her.”

  That goddamn bastard. He couldn’t touch Roanna or me because Emmie had friends in high places, so he was trying to sabotage our relationship.

  “I didn’t. The only reason we were at that damn club was because of Harris and Lucy.” I dared to take my eyes off Roanna long enough to look at the redhead. “Something they said you set up.”

  She nodded. “I did, and I don’t need any details about anything that happened concerning Lucy. I would much rather keep those images of my niece out of my head, thank you.”

  “No one has any of those images but Harris,” I assured her.

  “Maybe you should tell us what was going on in those pictures. I can’t tell if you were just really drunk or…yeah. From what Lewis has told us, only his man and Roanna have a copy of the pictures, but just in case I suddenly get calls from the vultures, I need to have at least a little of the truth to tell them.”

  I turned my gaze back to Roanna, still cupping her face, still unsettled by her calmness. “I was drunk. We went to a bar before the club, and I overdid it during the whiskey tasting Jace set up. Then when we got to the strip club, I drank a lot of beer. By the time those pictures were taken, I was fucked up. But I didn’t touch her, Ro.”

  “Okay.”

  That damn word again. But hearing it again, I noticed her voice sounded hoarse. I stroked a thumb over her bottom lip. It was cracked pretty badly, and her complexion was off. “Are you sick?”

  “I’ve had strep throat all weekend. I just started feeling better this morning.”

  “Baby, you should have told me. I would have come home and taken care of you.”

  She shook her head. “Which was why I didn’t tell you. You wanted to go to Vegas with your friends, and I wasn’t going to be the reason you didn’t.”

  “You’re more important than a stupid trip,” I said, pressing my lips to her forehead.

  “If I may?” I stiffened at the sound of Lewis’s voice for the first time. Looking over at him, I saw he was shuffling the files in his hands. “Sorry to interrupt, but I had a feeling you were about to grab your girl and go, sir. Judge Blaylock asked me to put a full file together on you, Mr. Sinclair. Luckily for us both, I hadn’t turned it over to him yet.”

  “Shit,” I muttered, knowing what he’d probably found from my past. Roanna already knew about Brandi, but no one else did except for Dad.

  “My guy was able to locate and speak by phone with a Mrs. Brandi Sinclair. After discussing your run-in with the judge with Mrs. Armstrong, I think it’s safe to say no one wants anything from that conversation falling into the man’s hands.”

  “I’m going to kill him,” I seethed.

  “There was also mention of a boy,” Lewis continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “There was a question of paternity in which you were ruled out as the father after a DNA test. But based on the fact that there was a question who fathered the child, I gather that would create a media field day all its own.”

  “Emmie,” I gritted out. “I want the judge to go away, or I’m seriously going to kill the old fuck. It’s bad enough that he was trying to put my relationship with Ro in jeopardy. Now he’s digging into my past and stirring up things I will commit murder to keep there if that’s what it takes.”

  “I’m already on it,” she assured me. “Lewis here is good at his job, as are his employees, but I have my own guy on retainer. I did a full background check on the judge and his grandson after what happened at the movies that night. Seller is meticulous. I have so much dirt on Blaylock, he will be begging for mercy by the time I’m finished with him. Looks like he didn’t get the message last time when I turned over a little of what I have on him to his rival. But that was just the tip of the iceberg.”

  She pulled something from her desk and handed it to Lewis. “This is a nondisclosure agreement.” As he signed it, she handed him a check. “This is for your services. Give the judge his money back or not, I don’t care, but this is for the work you did.”

  The man barely put up an argument over the money and was out the door minutes later. The entire time, I just stood there, holding on to Roanna. She was stiff as a board in my arms. Those walls I tore down were back up, reinforced and encased in steel.