Play Mine (Brooklyn Dawn #3) - Cari Quinn Page 0,119
more were floating in the pool. “I didn’t even know there was that much helium in the city.”
I grinned. “I’ve been planning this for weeks. I thought of doing rose petals, but that shit is messy. I don’t want to be pulling them out of my ass forever.”
Zane held up a hand. “Hey, what you do with your private time is your business.”
“Thanks for the support.”
“Must be working for you, since our world has been in the crapper while we’ve been in lockdown, but you two are constantly smiling. I gotta ask, is it vitamins? Performance enhancements? Tantric techniques? Jamie thinks you lace your coffee with Viagra.”
“No, but if she keeps it up, I might lace hers with it.”
As soon as the words were out, I winced. Even joking about something like that brought back that night at Purgatory.
On one hand, it was the best night of my life. Being with Teagan had opened up the door to an entirely new life for us.
And it was just the beginning.
On the other hand, she could have ended up seriously ill—and Zane had gone through something that he was still dealing with the fallout from.
He hadn’t told us at the time, but he’d actually done a urine test after that night. Apparently, whatever drug he’d been given had been all but out of system by then, so they’d been unable to identify it for sure.
The physical effects of the drug had changed his life in more ways than one.
Before then, he’d been the least followed and photographed member of the band, and now he got the most attention, even more than Lindz and Jamie. He couldn’t go anywhere without a swarm of paps shadowing him. Speculation about his personal life was constant. Everyone was just waiting for “Wild Man Landry” to crack again and do something even more crazy.
Combined with the continual security threat focused on us, we were all on edge. Oh, we pretended not to be. After our last concert, we’d had some time off. The summer had been quiet. Even restful. But it was hard not to see it as the calm before the storm as we got back on the road this fall with an even more arduous touring schedule.
This difficult year had brought the band closer together, that was for sure. We were tight as a drum, a united front. Even more so since some of the preliminary investigations that had dogged our early summer were finally behind us.
Teagan had been cleared of suspicion of any wrongdoing in the townhouse fire, and the hope was we could start work on rebuilding later in the year. She was still gun-shy about dealing with anything to do with her place, so we were taking things slowly there.
Basically, that meant going at a speed opposite the one we’d undertaken with our relationship. Once we’d made that first move, we’d been all in.
We were also enjoying increased tabloid scrutiny due to our relationship. Including one intimate shot of us kissing backstage that Jamie had insisted on blowing up to life-size and hanging on our bus for “diddling inspiration.” With added fake marker mustaches for both of us.
That hadn’t slowed us down one bit. If Jamie thought she’d embarrass us into embracing the chaste life, yeah, not happening.
Especially now that one more hammer had been lifted from above our heads once Noah had confirmed Pat wasn’t harassing the band. He’d had an alibi for the recent incidents, and his phone records were clean. Teagan had gotten her new phone a bit ago, and she’d received no ominous calls since then.
We’d finally found our joy again. I would protect it at any cost.
But as much as we all wanted to believe the relatively quiet summer meant we were out of the woods, none of us were that naive.
I figured faux Priscilla was just biding her time.
Especially now that Roth had informed Lila that the real Priscilla had been missing for months. Faux Priscilla had stolen her identity…or worse.
Who knew how long this chick had been planning to come after us and use Teagan to gain entry into Ripper? If that was even the plan. I was pretty sure Noah was right. Things were bigger than just Brooklyn Dawn.
“So, yeah, I’m thinking of calling that number,” Zane said, obviously continuing a longer stream of consciousness that I had accidentally tuned out.
“What number?”
“You haven’t been listening to me. Let me guess, are you planning to buy Teagan a fairytale castle in her Irish homeland?”