Page 119 of Charming Like Us
I cup my hand over his mouth. “Muted, meu raio de sol.” I love my dramatic-ass nickname that is too damn accurate for Jack.
He laughs against my palm, and the air lightens when we return back to the remnants of the party.
“How many people were here?” I ask, watching as Jack lets go of my hand to check his phone. He mouths,Jesse.
I nod, and he leaves to take his brother’s call in the hallway.
“Four people,” Tom answers, collapsing on the singed couch. “Barelyeven a party.”
Charlie snorts. “Four is the most Beckett and I would let you invite.”
I stroll around the place, inspecting nooks and crannies where a smart “guest” would’ve planted hidden cameras. “Where is Beckett?”
“He stayed at our parent’s place,” Tom explains.
“Because he knew he’d wake to this.” Charlie lights a cigarette. “Andthisisn’t even the problem.” He looks back to me. “Luna’s fanfic was swiped.”
I roll to a halt by the bookcase. “What?”
“It was stolen, robbed,pilfered,” he clarifies.
Thank you, not.
“I know whatswipedmeans.”
Charlie skips over that. “I need to retrieve it, but I don’t have the last name of the guy who stole the manuscript.”
This is a major fucking problem.
“Ian or Vance should know,” I rebut. Tom and Eliot’s bodyguards aren’t completely incompetent, and even though they’re Epsilon, I’ve worked with them long enough that they’ll supply me a name.
Something’s still not adding up. I look to Charlie. “If you weren’t home last night, where were you?”
“I was on the roof.”
Of course he was. Becausewhy not?
Eliot starts buttoning up a black button-down. “We’re coming with you.”
“No you aren’t,” Charlie says, cigarette smoke billowing from his lips with the words.
“Luna’s our best friend, if something of hers was stolen, we’re going to help retrieve it.” Eliot tucks his shirt into black slacks. “It’s our duty.”
I really need my radio.
“No,” Charlie tells him. “You both have doneenough. You’re staying here and cleaning this fucking place so that Beckett doesn’t lose his shit. And I will go find the fanfic with Oscar and Jack. Understood?”
Tom and Eliot exchange a look, before Tom says, “As you were.”
Eliot nods. “We’ll concede. This time.”
Charlie rolls his eyes, then snuffs out his cigarette on the singed couch.
I’m already heading to the door. Leading the way.
* * *
Radio attached,comms on, gun holstered, and the thieving bastard’s name in my possession, I leave the Hell’s Kitchen apartment building without socking the Wreath brothers in the face.
