Page 198 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

The shoulders were wrong. I tried to crane my neck, but then he was gone. I tripped over my words, then righted myself. I’d sung this song a million damn times. The words came out of their own volition at this point.

I looked again, but there was no one there.

Maybe I had just wished him on stage.

The under stage was empty. Everyone was up top trying to fix Cooper’s drums.

I felt a prick on the back of my thigh and the world went topsy-turvy. The dim lights of the understage shimmered. I stumbled.

“I’ve got you.” The Irish accent soothed me.

“Alex…” I swallowed as my tongue felt like I’d wrapped it in cotton. His face wavered, and I blinked to clear my vision. Not right. Too smooth. I pulled my inner ear monitor out and the roar of the drums and guitars above made my stomach pitch and my ears ring. “Alex, I don’t feel right.”

“Just rest. I’ve got you, duchess.”

That wasn’t how he said my name.

Not at all.

The crowd was screaming and stomping for more. For the encore. I still had the encore to do.

Then everything went silent and black.

Thirty-Nine

Wet pavement.

Gasoline.

Oil.

The hot, acrid air of a heater.

All of it dented my brain first. I needed to slice my fucking head off my fucking shoulders. Jesus.

My mouth tasted of death.

Not of alcohol, though my shirt stunk of whiskey.

I pushed myself off the abused pavement. Ashes from discarded cigarettes and the stale stench of beer broke through the haze I couldn’t quite shake.

Why the hell was I outside?

And on the ground.

I rolled up onto my hip. The pervasive tang of Jim Beam wafted up, making my stomach roil. I almost lost the craft lunch I’d eaten with Lindsey before she got ready for…

Lindsey.

I shook my head.

Lindsey.

I lurched to my feet, stumbling down on my knees almost immediately. The pain of it drove white light and little black dots along my periphery. But the quick shot of adrenaline pushed the fuzziness aside. I hauled myself up and tried to get my bearings.

A shaft of light sliced through the darkness.

“You there. You’re trespassing.”

---