Page 27 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

I made more coffee and debated hiding out in there the rest of the day. I had the weekend—we had the weekend—before I had to be back in the city for a fan club show on Tuesday. Monday we were due for rehearsals and God only knows, probably another bullshit meeting where Lila would hint at security concerns that amounted to nothing more than a few petty thefts and overzealous fans. As usual.

You’d figure after so many years in the business, she and Lewis and the rest of the Ripper team would have more chill. Instead, they seemed to be getting more amped up about every little thing.

I came back out to find Daisy gone. But my half of the sandwich was still there, so I ate it in two bites before I went looking for her.

And soon wished I hadn’t.

A few feet outside my door, she was sitting on a rock in her bra and panties. Which was actually an optimistic name for them considering the amount of material they’d been constructed from.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Right now? Getting some sun.” She braced her hands behind her on the rock. “I’m so pale.”

I couldn’t argue. Her skin was like moonlight sprinkled with fairy dust. I knew that was probably just leftover glitter from the night before, but out here, she glinted like a damn beam of light.

“I’ll just leave you to it.” I turned to head back inside.

“Coward,” she muttered, but I didn’t rise to her bait. “Also, that coffee had way too much sugar. Don’t you have any balance?”

There was a loaded question. I let the slamming screen door answer for me.

I dumped out the paper plate and drank my coffee in a few gulps before rinsing out both mugs. She’d barely touched hers. Couldn’t please some people.

She was probably naked by now. God forbid she have any lines.

Why had I allowed her to come along? This couldn’t end well. A man only had so much endurance.

How long had it been since I’d had sex? I didn’t even know. Far too long when presented with Daisy Flannigan and her obviously wicked intentions toward me.

To drive me insane if nothing else.

Probably because she’d seen the outline of my dick. I couldn’t blame her there. That part of me was impressive.

My songwriting skills after a sleepless night? Not so much.

Five hours down was what I needed. If she disappeared in the interim, I’d consider myself lucky.

I stripped down and got into bed. It smelled like her maple-fucking-syrup scent and was still warm from her curvy body. I’d probably wake up with a hard-on after a dream about diving headfirst into a plate of sticky pancakes.

No euphemism intended.

I expected to toss and turn, but apparently, being surrounded by Daisy both inside and out was sedative enough. But I didn’t dream of pancakes.

Instead, it was screams. My sister’s, replayed over and over. Bouncing off the walls while I stumbled around in a fair attraction, one with mirrors that distorted shapes and turned hallways into a maze. I slammed my fists on doors that wouldn’t open, kicked at hinges that wouldn’t give way. My knuckles dripped with blood and pain sang through my exposed toes as the leather of my boots split. I couldn’t reach her no matter how I tried, and her screams wouldn’t stop.

“Oz.” I could feel hands pulling at me, dragging me back from the abyss. “Oz, dammit, wake up.”

I fought them. I couldn’t leave Kerry again, not like I had that night. She was depending on me, and I’d already let her down once.

Let her die.

“Oz, you better wake up. Oz! Dammit, come back to me.”

I shoved at the voice. I recognized it, but I couldn’t make her stop either. She was hammering at me, forcing me. Too soon. I wasn’t ready. Couldn’t she see?

My arm swung out, and her cry of pain had my eyes flying open. They locked on Daisy crumpled on the floor, her hand clutching her cheek.

Horror flooded through me as I clambered out of bed to kneel at her side. I expected her to cringe back, to beg me not to touch her, but she held up her arms.

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