Page 120 of The Broken Note

“No,” I blurt. Slipping my left hand into my pocket, I finger the device Jinx gave me. “I’d rather come to you.”

“Don’t you have school?”

“I can miss first period.” The teachers aren’t going to penalize me for skipping class anymore. Everyone knows that touching me means touching Dutch and no one in Redwood Prep is foolish enough to try that.

I resented Dutch for his cruel presence overshadowing me everywhere I go, but it does come in handy now.

“Meet me at my private studio in an hour.”

I hang up and whirl around to face Sol. “I have to go.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“It’s kind of private.” I ease back. “But I promise, I’ll set time aside for you when I get back, okay?”

Sol’s fractured expression is the last thing I see before I skate outside.

I didn’t bring the motorcycle—a short, Redwood skirt isn’t exactly conducive to riding that machine—so I have to catch the bus.

I’m edging on being late for my meeting with Jarod Cross, but I crash through the doors just in time.

The recording studio is brightly lit and filled with sound dampening panels. The mixer board outside looks like it costs several million. I’m nervous to even breathe in the direction of the sensitive buttons and levers.

“Miss Cooper.” Jarod Cross leaves his guitar on the stand, opens the door of the recording booth and joins me outside.

“Can we talk?” I glance at the sound engineer and the band members behind the glass. “In private?”

“Sure. Come this way.” Jarod Cross leads me down a dimly-lit hallway. Posters of him cram the length of both walls. Him at various music awards. Him meeting presidents and royalty. Him on the covers of famous magazines.

I live life so far in the dirt and the darkness that it’s difficult to see so much gold. This hallway is a brilliant reminder that Jarod Cross is no mere human. He’s as close to supernatural as a mere mortal can get.

“In here,” Jarod says, holding the door open.

“Is this your office?” I glance around the richly decorated room. There are so many trophies in here, it looks like I’m staring directly at the sunshine.

“Yes, I conduct important business in here.” He gives me a pointed look as if I should be honored to have the privilege of standing on the hardwood flooring. “Whenever I’m in the city, I spend more time in this room than at home.”

I drop my fingers into my skirt pocket and roll the small device around. Right now, I’m a pawn on three different chess boards—Jarod Cross, Dutch and Jinx.

But I’m nobody’s puppet.

I can choose which strings I want to keep and which I want to cut off. I use them, just as they use me.

Jarod Cross extends a hand. “Let me see it.”

“See what?” My heart jumps to my throat and I grip Jinx’s device protectively.

“The evidence.” He arches both eyebrows.

“Oh.” I unzip my purse, dig inside and pull out the flash drive. I saved the video on the memory stick last night.

Jarod Cross accepts the device from me and sets it on the table. “Good work.”

“Aren’t you going to check it?”

His eyes dart to the side. An imperceptible move, but one I notice.

“Yes,” he says. I guess I should check it.”

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