Page 5 of Wicked Rockstar

Chapter Two

KILLIAN

Judd was a fucking asshole.

I adjusted my sunglasses and pulled my hoodie lower, hunching my shoulders and stretching my sleeves to hide the tattoos that ran over my wrists and the backs of my fingers as I shuffled into Cradle and Crown. The gentle instrumental music playing and the overly bright lights in the baby store made me want to gag. I’d faced screaming crowds, rabid paparazzi, and even a few overzealous groupies, but nothing prepared me for the sensory assault of this place.

“I swear, Judd’s doing this on fucking purpose,” I muttered to myself, navigating past a display of breast pumps. I quickened my pace, keeping my gaze fixed on the floor as I hurried past things that looked straight out of a sci-fi novel. A young mother, struggling to keep her toddler in the stroller, did a double-take as I passed. The slight frown on her face indicated she questioned my familiarity.

I sped up even faster and angled my head away from her as I located my foster brother Judd in the diaper aisle. He was pushing a cart filled with an assortment of baby items. His facelit up with barely-concealed amusement, eyes gleaming with fucking mischief behind his thick Peter Parker-like lenses.

“There you are, honey. I was worried you’d get lost in this sea of adorableness,” Judd called out loud enough for a nearby associate to hear. She turned away with a smile when Judd waved her off.

I gritted my teeth. “I hate you.”

“Aww, don’t be like that. Here, hold this.” Judd tossed me a pack of diapers and continued to mosey down the aisle. He lowered his voice. “How was the party last night?”

I caught the diapers, fumbling slightly. “Insane as usual.” I shot him a withering stare, which only made that stupid grin on his face widen. “I was surprised you didn’t show up.”

Judd shrugged, examining a pack of wet wipes with exaggerated interest. “Did the little rockstar make any new friends?”

“I got what we needed.” I leaned in closer. “The next shipment’s coming in on Saturday. It’s a big one. They want to renegotiate the deal from last time. They just started using luxury yachts to transport.”

“Interesting.” Judd tossed a variety of wet wipes and diaper creams haphazardly into his cart. “Hard to suspect or check every billionaire’s plaything. How’s your new pretty?”

I smirked. “Oh, she’s a beauty. Perfect for an intimate … get-together.”

“I bet. Guest list?”

“The usual. I managed to get an invite for their higher-up. I demanded it. I told them I was sick of dealing with the small-time players.”

Judd whistled. “Risky. But if it pays off … ”

“It will. We’ll have access to better merchandise than we’ve been getting.” With my wealth and connections, I had my pick ofthe local drug runners, yet it was ridiculous I had to fight to get what I wanted.

My hands clenched reflexively. Once my fingers broke through the plastic, I remembered I still held the fucking pack of diapers and tossed them onto a nearby shelf.

“Hey,” Judd protested. “We need those for your … um …ournephew.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’ll be sure our non-existent nephew has plenty of these.”

“How’d you find out?”

“I overheard a few of their lower-level guys boasting about their new smuggling method and how it was so easy to hide their cargo among the toys of the rich and famous. I figured I’d toss my hat into the ring. After the success of my last gathering, I thought they might go for it.”

“And you, being you, convinced them to party next on your new yacht,” he finished for me.

“What can I say? I’m convincing.” The circles I ran in knew I had expensive tastes. “Before we left, they were practically begging to bring their boss along.” A mix of anticipation and caution swirled in the pit of my stomach.

The thrill of evading getting caught played a part in my participation.

“I’ve got your back,” Judd reassured me.

I nodded. That was a given.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” he admonished me. “Neither of us need to get caught.”

“I make no promises,” I smirked.

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