Page 62 of Naughty Dreams
“Got it. I’ll take care of business.” The door closed and the giggling became happy squeals. Thankfully they quieted down, probably because they’d gone into the bedroom on the other side of the suite.
Tal was home. So that was good. Or so DJ thought. In hindsight, he’d kick himself for not taking a closer look at what kind of shape Tal was in.
The sound of breaking glass and a high-pitched shriek brought DJ bolting out of bed and stumbling toward the door before he was fully awake. He damn near ran into it, too disoriented to turn the knob and open it first.
By the time he was in the living room, Roy was coming through the hotel entry door, telling DJ it had been at least twohours, overlapping the change in security shift. DJ was closer to Tal’s bedroom and went in first, which he knew would piss Roy off, but he did it anyway.
A naked girl crouched in the corner, her hands over her head. Tal stood over her with a broken bottle of booze. More glass than could have come from that was scattered around her. The cracked sheet rock explained it, brown liquid running down the paint. He’d thrown the first bottle and broken the bottom out of the second while still holding onto it. Like a weapon.
“Tal, wake up,” DJ bellowed. His bandmate froze and turned his way, his expression unseeing. The girl scrambled to another corner, putting space between them and giving DJ time to issue a direction to his bodyguard. “Get her. I’ve got him.”
“You’re the job?—”
“Fucking get her,” DJ snarled. “You think this isn’t something I’ve handled before? She’s most at risk. Get her into the living room.”
DJ knew Roy didn’t disagree with his assessment, because he wouldn’t have had a chance of prevailing otherwise. But he did give DJ a flashing steel, zero tolerance of disobedience look that would fuel his fantasies later.
“Stay away from him and that bottle until I get her secured,” Roy ordered. Then he held out a hand to the girl. She had a shallow cut on her cheek, probably from the spray of broken glass. If Tal had actually cracked it across her face, it would have been far worse.
Fortunately, she’d proven she didn’t go deer-in-the-headlights when frightened. She scuttled to Roy. He took her out the door.
“Tal.” DJ attempted a casual tone. “You’re buck ass naked.”
Tal’s gaze was glassy, disoriented. “Spiders,” he rasped. “Fucking spiders, man. Crawling all over the walls.”
“No, they’re not. But if they were, they’d be drinking all that expensive Kentucky bourbon you threw on them.”
In the time it would have taken him to thrust the girl into a chair, Roy had returned to the bedroom doorway. Hopefully she hadn’t fled the room and into the arms of the paparazzi clustered outside the hotel.
With a glance at Roy to be sure he wasn’t going to stand in his way, DJ took a step toward Tal. Roy’s expression said he thought DJ was too damn close to that broken bottle, but for now he was letting it be DJ’s rodeo.
Tal shuddered. “Fucking spiders, man.”
“Yeah. Can you put down the bottle, man? I’m worried you’re going to cut yourself.”
Tal looked surprised to see it in his hands. He swayed, laughed. “I’m immortal, man. I’m a rockstar.”
He brought the bottle down, ramming the edges onto his upper thigh.
“Fucking hell.” DJ leaped for him. By the time Tal dropped to the mattress, half cradled in DJ’s arms, Roy had grabbed a towel out of the bathroom to toss to his outstretched hand. Blood welled around the two-pronged cut. Not gushing, thank God. He hadn’t hit a major artery. Roy secured the bottle and made it disappear.
“Ah man. That was a good trip, but the destination always sucks.” Tal tipped his head back and gazed at DJ with a suddenly weary face. “Why’s the trip always better than wherever it ends? Hey, that’s a good line. Write that down. That’s some good shit.”
Tal pulled his leg away from DJ and turned away. “Gimme back my sheets. You always hog them. Remember the first time we were in Atlanta?”
“Yeah, I do.” DJ moved with him, taking the peroxide Roy gave him to treat the wound. Though Tal grumbled, his eyes were already closed, and he allowed it. DJ taped the cuts witha gauze pad from the first aid kit Roy had produced from somewhere.
When he was done, he pulled the sheet and blankets over Tal. He’d sunk his head into the pillow like it was a bowling ball. “Drink some of this, brother.” DJ got a bottle of water to his lips and made him swallow about half of it before Tal pushed him away.
“Sick. Plain water. You’re sick, dude. Go away.”
DJ stood. Aware of Roy’s gaze on him, but really not up to dealing with anything it meant, he picked up the bloody towel and went into the bathroom, dropping it into the tub. With another glance at Tal to make sure he was comfortable, he carried the first aid kit with him to the living room. Roy followed without comment.
Fortunately, the girl was still there. And it wasn’t her first adventure with musicians on a bad trip. Now that she was out of harm’s way, she was pretty cool. The cut on her face was superficial. Having DJ tend to it himself, then offer her a handful of free concert tickets and DJ’s shirt to keep, which Roy had grabbed off a chair and given to her to put on, was more than worth the hassle.
“I’d never do anything to hurt the band, DJ,” she swore to him. “We really, really love you guys.”
A beep from the door lock, and DJ saw G slide into the room. Both Warren and G were staying in the hotel, and DJ guessed Roy had called G to help handle the girl. G retrieved her clothes from Tal’s room, reporting he was completely out. After the girl wriggled back into the micro skirt, thin bra and tank in front of them, she offered to blow both men if they wanted. She also told G she was decent at eating pussy.
