Page 67 of Wicked Rockstar

I nodded. “Sure. Maybe you can stop by the recording studio while we’re there.”

“I’d like that.” She covered a yawn and I realized how late it was. “I’m about to change and head home. Lexi left a rolling rack here with my new stuff. I just need to find a way to get it to my place. Do you mind if I keep it here for now?”

Lexi had texted me a few minutes ago with the total damage for Tris’s new wardrobe. I didn’t even blink before I paid it. Triswas worth any amount, especially when I saw how the clothes gave her so much more confidence.

I nodded. “Of course. I can have Max bring it to you whenever.” Or I’d bring it myself.

“Thanks.”

She left and reappeared a few minutes later to say goodbye. I’d already changed into a hoodie and jeans I had stored in my recording studio and perched a pair of sunglasses on my head.

She laughed. “I think it might be a little late for sunglasses, rockstar.”

I touched the aviators on top of my head. “Right.” I couldn’t explain why I’d reached for them seeing it was dark out. Habit? Nerves? “I’m following you home. Make sure you get there safe.”

Tris narrowed her eyes. “I’m a big girl and have been driving myself home for over a decade. I don’t need you to do that.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s happening.” I moved towards her and laid my hand on the small of her back, guiding her to move.

And I may have had to give myself a silent reminder to not slide my hand over her firm ass.

Tris darted away like my touch burned her and shot me a frustrated look before marching out of my penthouse.

She’d learn eventually that her safety was not something I’d ever compromise on.

As we drove, Max managed to keep a close distance between cars as she zigged and zagged through traffic. When she parked her car, she exited and flipped me the bird.

My chuckle at her parting gesture stopped abruptly when she reached the door of her building. Well, technically it was my building now that I closed on it. Tris and I would need to have a conversation about the safety of her home. I knew she’d fight me on any changes I insisted on. I should’ve addressed this sooner.

She disappeared inside without another glance back. Now completely out of my sight, I had no idea if she’d made it safelyto her apartment. And with her current attitude, it was unlikely she’d text me when she made it upstairs.

I was angry. At myself, not her. I’d spent the time and money to add cameras to the outside, installed a more secure front door and security lock, and updated the lighting in the parking lot. But now that we were here, I realized I hadn’t assessed the interior to see what measures were in place inside. Or what I could do about it.

I stepped out of the car.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” Max asked.

“Yeah. I’ll message you when I’m ready to leave.” Which might be in two minutes or it might be in an hour. I yanked my hood up over my hair and slid on my shades. I hoped this outfit was enough to disguise me. I didn’t want to be recognized or bring any additional attention to Tris.

Not yet, anyway.

As I approached the front door, it opened. A guy around my age walked out, holding the door until I could grab the handle before it shut all the way.Fucker.He had no idea if I lived here. I could be a murderer and here he was letting me in with a damn smile. I wanted to rip his head off for allowing Tris even a second of possible harm.

Reason went out the window when it came to her. I was borderline acting like an overbearing asshole. Tris was an adult and could take care of herself, but the part of me that wanted to claim her as mine told that side to take a fucking leap off a tall building. While she was in my life, it was my responsibility to keep her safe. And when she was gone, I’d do everything in my power to make sure everything was set up in a way for that to continue even without me there.

My impatience went up a notch at the “Out of Order” sign taped across the elevator doors. Tris lived on the sixth floor.

The general manager would be finding a termination letter tomorrow.

Motherfucker.

Not only was security seriously lax in this building, it needed to be updated. I texted Smee about getting the elevator fixed, firing the current building manager, and hiring a new one.

At the door to unit 612, I wanted to bang in the door to prove to her just how unsafe she was. This lock was a joke. One basic deadbolt and likely one on the inside of the doorknob—no way was that effective enough to keep her safe.

My fist connected with her door. When she didn’t answer, I waited a few seconds before doing it again. Feet shuffled on the other side and I imagined Tris looking through the peephole.

Wait a sec.

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