Destroy Me - Ella Sheridan Page 0,88

the statement on a sigh. Three weeks. In the music industry it didn’t take much to be forgotten. If they put off studio time, there was no telling when they could get it rescheduled—a month, four, six. That put off the production timeline, release, promo… All the hard work they’d put into writing and development, all of V.’s new management efforts, all meaningless if they lost their window of opportunity. This could derail the next release for a long time.

Which was the reason they’d explained to Chad—more than once—why a vacation was impossible right now. A few days off, yes. A months-long trip to Europe? Hell no.

“Did you contact Drew?” Hank asked. Their guitarist needed to know what was going on.

“Not yet. He’ll be in Alaska in a few hours; I’ll call him this evening with the news. Hate to ruin his family time, but…”

Yeah, but.

“I can’t believe he’d do this.” Yes, Chad was fickle, but he was also a great front man. He knew how much the next few months mattered to the band. Didn’t he?

“That’s the power of the dick, apparently,” V. muttered. “Christ, Hank, he essentially laid us off, put the band on hiatus, via text.”

Knight reappeared at the bend of the stairs, his bright amber eyes questioning Hank’s delay. The look got Hank’s feet moving up the second flight of steps even as his mind raced to find alternatives to V.’s statement.

Knight danced before the apartment door, whining, anxious to get in. Hank dropped his bags on the deck and retrieved his keys from the pocket of his jeans.

“We’re fucked,” V. said, voice dragging with fatigue. He’d been working hard to get the band bigger and better venues, to get and keep their name out there. The latest single from their album had hit the top ten its first week of radio play. And now their horny lead singer threatened to bring it all tumbling down.

Opening the screen door, he said, “Maybe not.”

“And how are we supposed to avoid it?” V. shot back.

Hank turned the lock and opened the apartment door. Knight shot through the gap as soon as it was wide enough to admit his big body, his barks picking up as he disappeared inside. Hank shook his head at the dog’s antics and turned back to retrieve his bags. “What about an acoustic tour?”

The idea had merit. It might get them interim exposure until they could decide what to do about Chad.

“Without Chad?” V. asked. “People will expect the whole band.”

“Well, we could—”

From deep inside the apartment, a distinctly feminine scream split the air, cutting Hank off. Before he could do more than think what the hell? he heard fabric tearing, and then a bark from Knight. His hand went automatically to his hip, searching for his weapon, before he remembered he didn’t carry anymore.

“What was that?” V. asked.

With a hasty “Don’t know; I’ll call you back,” Hank hung up on the run. “Knight?” he called.

“Stop!”

Definitely female. The open space of the combination living room and kitchen was dark, the only light muffled behind curtained windows and, at the far end where a hall led to the bedrooms, a bright glow. But no Knight. Hallway it is, then.

The rush across the room seemed to take forever, each step punctuated by yips and growls and a woman’s arguing voice. “Knight?” Hank yelled a little louder as he reached the corner by the fridge. A deep breath, then he shot a quick searching glance into the hall.

What he saw had him gaping in shock. “What—”

There was a woman in his apartment. He’d guessed that much from the voice, though he still didn’t understand it. What he couldn’t have guessed was that the woman was mostly naked, standing in the hall wrapped in a flimsy towel that Knight seemed to think was a play toy. A torn piece of white material lay on the ground, and the dog had one corner gripped between his jaws. A game of tug-of-war had commenced that threatened to unveil what the woman had, for the moment, covered. Taking in the picture, the tension in Hank’s gut released. He stepped into the hall to lean against the doorjamb, unsure how to react.

Or who would win, for that matter. Hank had his money on Knight, and considering the woman in question, whoever she was, he felt pretty sure he’d be happy about the outcome.

She was slender. Wet streaks highlighted her bare legs, the muscles sleek and strong as she fought Knight’s pull. The