Page 3 of Edge

I need alittle rest, he thought hazily.A cat nap, then I’ll go join theothers.

***

Christ, myhead hurts. Shit. Was I hit by a bus?

Jory managed to unstickone eye from whatever gunk was holding it closed and peeredblearily at his surroundings. He saw grimy carpeting and smeltstale cigarette smoke. His head pounded like the beat of a bassdrum was banging on his skull. He closed his eyes, thankful for thedark.

I’ll lie herea while and get my shit together. He knewhe was telling himself lies—he’d never have his fucking shittogether.

Heftinghimself up from beneath a scratchy blanket ofsorts—fuck, my brainhurts— he managed to sit against the backof the couch. Automatically, he reached into his leather jacketpocket for his cigarettes. The pocket was empty.

Fuck, whereare my ciggies?

Groaning, he took in hissurroundings. He was in what looked like a backroom, currentlyempty and quiet, but smelling of smoke and fast food. The onlything he could hear was the hum of what was a freezer or a fridge.He rubbed his eyes, squinting in disgust at what came out of them,and wiped his hands on his jeans. His mouth tasted sour, and whatwith the pounding headache, he knew he’d had a rough drinkingnight.

He was also missing histreasured baseball cap, one that had been personally given to himby the Blue Jays batman, Bo Bichette. He’d met Bo behind the stageat a concert Stone Edge had performed in Toronto around a year ago.The cap helped Jory protect his anonymity, together with shapelesssweatshirts and low-slung jeans.

“I want myfucking cap back,” he grumbled. “Whoever has it will meet with anugly end.”

Short bursts of memoryflashed through his mind. He’d been in the bar with Bernie andDumont, found some guy to get him off, then he’d had another coupleof drinks and then… He couldn’t remember anything past the lasttequila shot.

Shit, Dumontis going to be livid. He’s gonna cut me a new one.“Fuck him. He’s supposed to stick with me likeglue, so this is all his fault since he’s not here,” he mutteredbetween dry lips and fuzzy teeth.

His sobervoice of reason said, Yeah? That’s howyou’re going to sell it to the six-foot-four muscled behemoth whocould pick you up with one gym-toned arm?

Heshivered. I won’t go there afterall. He managed to stand, using the coucharm as a crutch. He staggered over to the door and pushed itopen.

I’m still inthe bloody club?

Boulevard 53 was quietand dark. Not what he was used to. There were dimly lit areasbehind the bar, and low light reflected off the bottles of boozeplastered against the wall.

He staggered over to thefire door on the opposite side of the room and pushed it open.Outside, the early July morning was alive with the sounds ofconstruction and traffic, people shouting and passers-by with headsdown, coffee cups in hand as they raced to God knewwhere.

Jory squintedin the bright sunlight, and then glanced down at his watch.Christ, it’s nine. I was in there allnight. He felt aggrieved Dumont hadn’t cometo look for him and had left him to sleep it off in a foul-smellingback office.

A hand gripped hisshoulder and he shouted loudly as he turned in panic.

“Enjoy yournap, princess?” Dumont stood there, blocking out the sun. He waschewing a bacon and sausage sandwich, huge pieces of bloomer breadlathered with butter and what looked like half a pig between theslices. Jory felt nauseous as Dumont thrust the monstrosity towardshim with an evil grin. “Fancy a bit?” He let go and bent down topick up an extra-large coffee cup from the ground outside thewarehouse.

“No,” Jorygrowled, trying to hold in the bile in the back of his throat.“Where the hell have you been? You left me in that shithole,riddled with God knows how many germs. I could’ve contracted somehorrible disease.” He crossed his arms in a huff. “And where thehell is my coffee?”

Dumont let out a guffaw,startling a woman and child walking past. “Princess, I had eyes onyou all night. Don’t worry. I saw you stumble in there at two andcollapse. I thought you could do with the rest. Rafe told me to letyou sleep it off undisturbed. At least I managed to find you ablanket.” Rafe Paisley was the owner of the club and a good mate tothe band. “And you left this in the club.” He handed over Jory’sprecious cap. “Put it on or we’ll be swamped with paparazzi, andI’d hate to see the headlines. ‘Drunken lead singer of emergingrock band Stone Edge stumbles out from downtown nightclub. Hislatest fashion statement appears to be one of pure grunge.’” Thebodyguard ran a critical over Jory’s attire. “You look like a damnstreet orphan.”

Jory jammed on his capover his greasy dark hair. He couldn’t wait for a shower. “Fuckyou. I’m glad I kept you out all night. Miss your bed, didyou?”

Dumont chuckled. “Not atall. I was all tucked up next door, nice and dry, with roomservice.” He motioned towards the small boutique hotel next to theclub. “I did a recce, made sure you were safe in there, then wentto bed. I got up early to check you were still in the land of theliving.”

Jory stared at him inhorror. “You fucking left me in there while you enjoyed the luxuryof the Cedarwood?”

Dumont winked. “Youlooked so comfortable curled up in there like a cute littlebadger.” His eyes narrowed. “And if you remember, I promised to getyou back from the stunt you pulled with Alice when the two of yousnuck out without telling me. Revenge is a dish best served cold.”He smirked and pulled Jory’s cap down over his eyes. “Now come on.The car’s around the corner. You stink of alcohol and jizz. Thosejeans of yours look stiff enough to stand on their own.” He strodeoff down the street, and Jory followed, muttering insults under hisbreath.

Sometimes he hatedDumont.

Sort of.

The car was a welcomesight. The black-on-black Toyota Vellfire—typical rockstar ride,which Sooty purchased for the team—was a luxurious combination ofbeastly strength and comfort. Dumont was the official driver, andto date neither Jory nor any of his fellow band members had evergotten close to driving the vehicle.

Jory climbed into theback so he could stretch out, and then laid his against the doorwith a sigh of relief. Dumont nudged him, pushing him against thedoor.