Page 82 of Claiming Atlas
Leave what for me?I roll over in time to see her walk out of my suite and step into the elevator across the hall. “You didn’t close my goddamn door.”
“Close it yourself, asshole.” She turns around and flips me off as the doors start to close. “I’ll let Kayla know she’swaybetter off without you.”
My heart stalls in my chest as everything clicks into place.
That’s why she looked familiar. She was with Kayla the night we met.
I jump from the bed, but don’t reach the elevator doors before they close. I press the call button repeatedly, but it’s too late. The numbers above the elevator light up as she makes her way back down to the lobby. I glance at the door to the stairs, but there’s no way I’ll catch her in time and I’m in my fucking underwear. I’ve managed to avoid the tabloids for an entire month. Not going to change that now by running through the Hard Rock in boxer briefs.
“Fuck!” I reach up and tug at my hair in frustration—
Wait.
She said she’d leave something for me. What was it? Something from Kayla? I spin around and search the foyer for whatever it is. A piece of paper sits on the table next to the envelope I had Red drop off at Top Tier last night.
She doesn’t want to see me.
I pick up the paper, gripping it gently with both hands because it looks like it’s gone through the wash. Water marks stain the page in multiple places and some of the words are even worn off.
I don’t recognize the name on the letterhead. Some investment firm from Irvine.
Why the fuck did that chick bring this? It’s not a note from Kayla. Did she mix them up? It’s addressed to Kayla, though, so I keep reading. I chew my lip as I scan the paragraphs, then pause and go back to the top.
“Dear Kayla, we regret to inform you that after certain discrepancies have come to our attention...”
My voice cracks as guilt slams my esophagus closed. I can’t read the rest out loud. All I see iscall girl. It stands out on the page like it’s printed in bold.
Every other word fades away but those. I don’t know what thisLearn and Love Charter Schoolis, but because of Kayla’s connection to me, because she was photographed with me, then lied about, she lost funding.
Because. Of. Me.
I don’t know what this means, exactly, but I have to get to the bottom of it. That blonde chick came to me because she wanted me to know what happened to Kayla, and I turned her away, treated her like trash. I basically called her a whore.
I set the letter back down on the table, then look around at the suite I haven’t left in days.
I’m the only trash around here.
The guys have been enjoying Vegas all week, gearing up for our encore shows this weekend after we decided to extend the tour to include this new music festival this weekend, and I’ve done nothing but wallow in self-pity like a real fucking loser. I don’t even know how many girls have ridden that elevator in the last week, smiling on the way up and crying on the way back down, as I struggle to find one of them who can take my mind off Kayla for even a second.
I grab my cell and punch Red’s contact info.
He answers quickly. “Yo.”
“Come back, man.”
He’s been staying with Chris and Trin at the Golden Nugget—Trinity loves the sharks—because I was too disgusting even for my bodyguard to stick around.
“You done drowning yourself in pussy and powder?”
I snort. “Yeah.”Yes to both of those.
Clicking end on the call, I shake my head as I start making my way around the room. I fill the trashcan in the foyer, then move onto the bathroom and the can in the wet bar. How many bottles of Dom have I let go flat this week? She ruined my favorite bubbly for me because I can’t drink it without thinking of her.
Housekeeping was here, like.... I don’t even know when they were here last. A few days ago, maybe? I just know I yelled at the maid and haven’t seen her since. I pick up old candy wrappers and shove them into the trashcan by the desk in the bedroom until that one nearly overflows, then start stacking up old plates and room service trays. Once I’ve slid them all outside the door to my suite, I grab all my dirty clothes and throw them into a bag, then throw a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt onto the bed. I find my last clean pair of boxers and walk into the bathroom.
Time to shower, shit, and shave.
There’s no way Kayla will forgive me if I show up looking like a homeless fucking drunk.
