“How did this happen?” I ask, my voice dropping low, trying to stay calm even as rage builds under my skin.
My Jace got fuckingdrugged.
Lamar hands me my clothes, already fully dressed, and I put the phone on the bench as I yank on my joggers. Missy starts talking, voice tight, tells me how Jace finally wanted to let loose, how he smiled and laughed and danced, howshebasically gave him the go-ahead to drink because he finally seemed happy enough to want to party, and now she feels guilty as hell.
“How did this happen?” I repeat, pulling my hoodie over my head.
When I grab the phone again, I see her pressing her lips together.
My voice turns razor sharp. “Did Mick have anything to do with it?”
“I’m not sure… I don’t think—”
I interrupt her with a curse. Something snaps. I’m over that guy. Fuckingdone. I’ve kept my cool about this dickhead formonths. I didn’t want to jeopardize Jace’s career, not when he’s finally doing so fucking good. But I can only take so fucking much. I’ve let the rumors roll off my back, let the headlines slide,bit my tongue when I wanted to bite back. Butthis? If he had anything to do withthis?
He better watch his back then, because next time I’ll see him? He’s gonna be fuckingmine.
“Tyler?”
“Yeah, sorry. Butdidhe have anything to do with it?” I ask again, just needing to know how it happened.
I stride toward the exit, Lamar on my heels with no need to ask. He snags my bag and drops my cap on my head, like he already knows I won’t have the hands or patience for it.
We’re practically jogging to our house—thank fuck it isn’t far—as Missy finally answers.
“No, I don’t think so, Ty.” she says, her voice tight, anxious. “I’m quite sure Jace took that shot by accident, he didn’t know what was in it. But when I spotted Jace acting weird on the dance floor, Mickwasplastered to him. Handsy.Waytoo fucking handsy. Like… pressed up behind him, holding his waist...”
My stomach clenches, rage mixing with something cold. With something sharp and unfamiliar. I’m not the guy who loses it. I don’t get angry like this. Ineverdo.
“Jace thought it was you,” she adds, quieter now. “Hethought it was you, Ty. Called him your name. Said he missed you, loved you.” I see her swallow, like she’s trying not to cry. “That’s when Ireallyknew something was wrong.”
Fuck.
I squeeze my eyes shut for half a second, trying to breathe through the burn behind them. The image of Jace, drugged out of his mind, loose and vulnerable and thinking it was me—thinking that prick was me—makes something inside me fuckingdie.
And then, in the background, I hear him.
A dreamy, slurred voice. A voice I’d recognize any-fucking-where, even over shitty speaker quality. Soft and sweet and wrecked.
“Ty… is that Ty-ler?”he drawls, the syllables loose, like he’s floating. Like he’s calling for me in a dream.
And it guts me.
“I’m almost home. What do you want me to do? How can I help? Did you call the police? A doctor? What can we do?” I fire off the questions one after the other, barely pausing for breath.
Lamar pushes a protein bar against my chest, and I mouth a quickthank youbefore ripping it open with my teeth. Shit, I need something in me, my body’s still running on fumes after playing for three hours straight.
“Don’t let him out of your sight,” I grit out, already cutting through the alley that leads to our back entrance. “I don’t care if you have to sit on him—just stay with him.”
“I know, Ty. I know. I’ve got him,” Missy says, steady as hell as I’m munching on the damn protein bar. “I swear I do.”
My screen shifts as she lowers herself beside Jace, and he immediately reaches for her wrist like she’s the sun itself. Drags her hand to his bare stomach andgroansat the contact like she’s just saved his damn life.
I see her glance at me through the camera with guilt in her eyes. “And as for your questions… No. No doctor. He didn’t have much, I can tell. He just needs to sleep it off.” She pats his stomach. “We didn’t call the police either. That would mean a report. Press. Headlines. And I honestly believe itwasan accident. He wasn’t drugged on purpose. We—”
Can’t risk it.
“Also,” she adds, stroking Jace’s abs like he’s a damn cat, making him practicallypurr, “G is basically untraceable. The effects come on quick, and they fade just as fast. He’ll be like thisfor maybe two more hours. Then he’ll crash. Sleep it off. He’ll be just fine, I promise.”
