Pure Wicked (Wicked Lovers #9.5)(23)
Author: Shayla Black

“Did you already figure it out?” Had someone at the restaurant last night recognized him after all?

“No. You’re so quiet it’s eerie.”

With a grin, Jesse leaned back. “Told you I wouldn’t fuck it up.”

“I’m actually impressed. It’s a good thing you disappeared for a while.”

“So things are still ugly? Why aren’t the police releasing details?”

She sighed, and he heard her exhaustion. “The investigation is still ongoing. The fact that Maddy Harris died in your hotel room was bad enough. Now I’ve learned that she’d helped herself to the T-shirt you wore at that night’s concert. She was wearing it when she died.”

“Oh, shit.” He could only imagine what the press were saying about that.

“Exactly. An anonymous source leaked pictures of her body at the scene. I’m betting on a cop looking to make a quick buck. Then some Photoshopping genius positioned an image of you singing that night and her lying dead in the same fucking shirt side by side. It’s circulating all over social media. ET and Huff Post aren’t exactly being kind in their speculation, either. But I have no doubt it’s helping their numbers.” She paused. “Ryan’s funeral is scheduled for Tuesday morning in Shreveport. His next of kin was his great aunt. She lives there.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Until the police conclude this investigation and some time goes by, I’m not sure you should do anything but lay low.”

“I won’t miss his services, Candia. If I did, I’d look like an unfeeling prick. And I need to say good-bye. He might have had his flaws, but he was my friend.” He shook his head and struggled against tears. “I wish to fuck I’d been able to save him.”

The rock star life looked like good-time glitz to outsiders. Living it was something else completely. Different countries, different hotel rooms, transient “friends.” Jesse’s schedule was never his. Indulging in his goofy side wasn’t good for the badass sex-god image he’d cultivated over the years. Yeah, it sold albums, but he never quite relaxed. Music critics and a changing industry complicated everything. And the really suck-ass part was the paparazzi hovering, just waiting to snap pictures if the temptation to dive into the ever-present girls, booze, and drugs ever became too much to resist. Not for one minute did he forget that virtually everyone around him was making a buck off his vocal cords. If he lost his voice or died tomorrow, his fans would care. But would any of the people he saw day in and day out give two shits?

Not so much. Candia was the closest thing he had to a friend now, and she was a career woman first and always. If she didn’t have him, she’d mourn for thirty seconds, then pick up the phone and schmooze multiple job offers before choosing one and moving on.

No wonder he’d really enjoyed his time with Bristol. She didn’t expect him to be sexy or perfect or charming or anything except nice. And while he suspected she was a tad gun-shy after Hayden, she had opened up to him and shared parts of herself, like the fact that she was named after her dad’s Connecticut hometown and that she watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns whenever she caught one on TV.

“Ryan made his choices,” she murmured, her voice heavy.

Jesse gritted his teeth. “When he was so high, he barely knew his own damn name.”

“Sorry. I know he’d been a part of your band for years and you used to be tight.” She hesitated.

Tight? They’d shared both women and parties for years. Nothing more intimate than drinking out of the same bottle while both balls deep in the same chick. He and Ryan had grown apart after Jesse had stuck with his decision to stay sober, but that didn’t mean he’d cared about the guy less.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Maddy’s funeral is that afternoon in Round Rock.”

He winced. What a tragic waste. Sixteen was way too young to die.

“Did you get a hold of her parents?”

“I did. They don’t want anything to do with you, your apologies, or your money. And they definitely don’t want you showing up to their daughter’s funeral and turning it into a media circus. They want to grieve in peace. They don’t blame you for what happened. Apparently, Maddy had been through some trouble with drugs in the past. But they don’t want you or any token of yours around as a reminder of all they’ve lost. If you really want to make a gesture of some sort, I think your best option is to start a scholarship fund in her name or shoot an anti-drug PSA.”

That would cost him almost nothing. Jesse wished the girl’s parents had been more demanding…but forcing them to take from him would only serve to make himself feel better. “Done. Set it all up.”