Page 137 of Wicked Rockstar

“I’m good to go.” I poured myself and Jack a drink from my bar.

Jack set the beer down and headed straight for me with his long strides. I handed him the glass and he slung back the entire contents in one gulp.

“What about Trissa?” Judd asked hesitantly.

“What about her?” I growled back.

Judd, being a smart man, didn’t say another word about Tris. A few seconds later my phone pinged with the information I needed.

“Got it.”

“We going to fuck some shit up?” Jack asked, his grin fully in place.

“Something like that.” I was more than ready to burn off the feelings of rejection and regret.

Judd buzzed in my ear again with another warning. “Killian, I need you to be sure you can do this.”

“Just trust me, Judd. I know exactly what kind of game we’re playing. Jack’s in. He’ll be useful.”

Before Judd could argue further, I hung up and downed my fresh drink in one go then filled Jack in about what I’d been up to and what Judd expected from us. As I stood, the warmth spread through my chest and I steeled myself to be the reckless playboy once more.

I had a job to do; a role to play.

And if I was going to go off the rails, well, that was exactly what this operation needed.

The out-of-the-way restaurant was dimly lit, its air thick with tension and the acrid smell of cigarette smoke. I leaned against the hostess station, trying to appear casual even as every muscle in my body was coiled tight, ready to spring into action.

Jack stood beside me, a dangerous glint in his eyes that I recognized all too well. It was the same look he got before a big game, when the crowd’s roar was deafening and the pressure was at its peak. But this wasn’t a hockey rink, and the stakes were far higher than any championship.

“You sure about this, Killian?” Jack’s voice was low, barely audible over the ambient noise of the minimal staff moving around the small dining area. “We can still walk away.”

I was surprised to hear him offer that option. Jack had no fear, so maybe he wasn’t sure I was ready to handle this. Jack was an asshole, but he took care of his own.

I shook my head, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of our target. “No turning back now,” I muttered. “Besides, since when do you back down from a fight?”

Jack’s laugh was sharp and quick. “Fair point. Just remember, I’ve got your back. Always have, always will.”

His words should have been comforting, but they only served to remind me of another promise, anotheralwaysthat had turned out to be a lie. Not that Tris had verbally promised me anything, but after the other night I thought it had been understood. I pushed the thought away, needing to focus on the task at hand.

“So what’s going on with you and Tris?” Jack asked.

I should’ve known he’d sense there was more to me agreeing to help Judd.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “What did she do?”

“You have to ask?”

“I fucking hate her,” Jack seethed.

Before I could respond, the heavy door in the entryway opened in front of us.

I straightened.

This was it. The moment we’d been waiting for.

Flanked by two burly bodyguards, a man in an expensive suit strode into view. Nikol Petrosian, the drug lord we’d been tracking for months. His eyes, cold and calculating, met mine.

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