Pissed was an understatement when I shot to my feet, but I didn’t bother pummeling him. Braxton had already made him feel worse than I ever could. “Find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

Loren’s head shot up. When he saw I was dead serious, he looked to Houston, who shrugged. This was my show and my shot to call, but we were both still caught off guard by Houston’s refusal to interfere. Control was not something he relinquished without a bloody fight.

Braxton was changing everything.

“This is bullshit,” Loren spat like I gave a damn.

“Wheelchair.”

It was all the reminder he needed before he stormed off the bus.

Sighing, I headed for the shower while Houston cleaned up. With Loren gone, at least there’d be hot water.

One city blurred into the next as we made our way east. Exhaustion from performing nonstop, with only two real breaks to recharge in between, had drained my excitement for new places. I didn’t feel the spark I’d left behind in New Orleans until we reached the Big Apple two months later.

Now all I could smell since we arrived this morning was cinnamon.

Visiting had always been a dream of mine, and not even the pall Dallas put on the tour could ruin it.

My bus had been repaired and met us in New Orleans, but Houston had given it back to the crew rather than exile me again. Even though I was relieved for the crew, I wondered if Houston’s motive was to punish me since it meant staying on the bus with them. We didn’t speak unless it was absolutely necessary, and the three of them avoided me like I carried a flesh-eating virus.

I know I said I wanted space but going so far as to avoid even a shoulder brush was a bit much. All three seemed to jump out of their skin whenever I got too close and would hurriedly leave the room.

They still argued almost every night, but something had changed. They didn’t lash out anymore, and I was no longer a bystander. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup made sure to hash their beef out of earshot, though it was always close enough for me to watch them through the window.

Sometimes I had to remind myself that I’d asked for this. We were Pandora’s box, better left untouched than explored. I just didn’t count on it hurting this bad.

Against my will, I missed them.

I’d gone from feeling nothing to feeling sad, and now something else. I wasn’t sure at what point during the two months prior that anger had set in, but the chip on my shoulder was huge.

New York was as loud, smelly, and crowded as portrayed on television, but the magic was real too. Los Angeles had gotten me used to large cities, but there was an edge to New York that the City of Angels just didn’t have. No other place in the world could match the grit, speed, and glitz of the metropolis.

The best part was that we’d be here for a week before moving further north. After Boston, we’d storm through Canada, and then it was back to the west coast for our last two shows of the first leg—Seattle and Portland. I’m sure the guys were excited about returning home—at least until the European leg of our tour began.

The number of shows packed into one tour seemed…excessive, even for a band as notable as Bound.

I also wondered why we weren’t flying to each show instead of being crammed onto a bus. It was public knowledge how much money Bound’s tours made. I’m sure the label could afford to charter a plane. None of it made any sense.

I told myself I didn’t care, but the thought only went so far as the corner of my mind where it waited to spring out again at the most inopportune time.

At least Savant had sprung for us to stay in a hotel while we were here. It was a five-star hotel, and nothing I could have afforded on my own. Even with my large advance, I wouldn’t squander it on a few nights’ stay. Meanwhile, the crew was put up in a less expensive hotel nearby, which didn’t seem fair. I would have been fine without the glamour—even Stevens.

When I texted my friends to complain, Griff called me a self-sacrificing headache and ordered me to shut up and enjoy the all-expense-paid vacay.

I’d been talking to them practically nonstop since I no longer had the guys to distract me. Before, I’d been too caught up in life on the road and my whirlwind emotions to realize how much I missed home.

I hadn’t talked to my parents since they wouldn’t pick up the phone and wouldn’t allow Rosalie to, either. She did manage to sneak me DMs here and there since my parents didn’t understand social media. I wasn’t sure they even knew Instagram existed.

During our last talk, I tried to get a sense of where her head was, but Rosalie had been reluctant to let me inside. That was more than two months ago, so I knew she was avoiding me. She’d even abandoned her mission to convince me to fly her out despite our parents forbidding her any contact with me.

Rosalie believed I could move mountains while sometimes I wished she would beg me to come home. At least then, I’d have an excuse to leave Bound without wounding my pride.

Annoyed with myself, I sat up into a sitting position where’d I’d been lying in the middle of my hotel bed. I’d already wasted two months of new adventures. I wasn’t going to let Bound take away another.

Digging my brown crossbody from my suitcase, I filled it with things I thought I’d need for the day before shoving on my most comfortable pair of boots and heading out of my room. The white summer dress with long sleeves that hung off my shoulders would do just fine.

The four of us had been given the twenty-six hundred square foot duplex for our stay. It had four beds, four baths, and a view of Central Park and the city. There were only three bedrooms, so Loren and Rich had doubled up while Houston took the second bedroom, and I was left with the master.

I’d forgotten what it was like to sleep on a full-sized bed. The bedroom on our bus had been left empty since I refused to run and hide. And despite its purpose that Houston had made known, the guys never used it for any groupies—not since Loren that one time.

Nope. I’ve been content with my bunk, putting up with Rich’s loud snoring, Houston’s quiet contempt, and Loren jerking off every morning and night.

At least he used his curtain for privacy now.

I wouldn’t think about what I’d done with his pillow.

I was seeing red at the time, but I didn’t regret it. Sometimes you have to stoop to beat your opponent at their own game.

Emerging from my room for the first time since arriving, I descended the five or six stairs separating the master bedroom on the suite’s second floor from the other rooms.

Loren was sitting alone on the couch closest to the stairs, with his arms spread along the back, and his body sprawled as if the couch were his throne, and he was king.

Houston stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows gazing out at the city with his brows dipped even though the view was breathtaking.

Rich stood in the kitchen, sucking on an orange, and I tried not to remember how good he was with his tongue.

I pretended they weren’t there as I headed for the door.

“Stop.”

When my feet actually obeyed, I cursed him and me under my breath. None of them had spoken to me in nearly twenty-four hours. What made Houston think I’d want to listen now?

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked when I peered over my shoulder.

“Does the answer affect our show four days from now?”

Houston’s expression morphed into something that warned me to back down now. Loren watched me like he wanted in on the action, and for the first time, Rich wasn’t jumping to my defense.

Looks like I’d bonded them, after all.

“It does if you don’t plan on coming back,” Houston returned.

Spinning around to face them, I crossed my arms. “No need to flatter yourself, Morrow. I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s right, Braxton. You’re not. Get back in your room.”

The room suddenly smelled as if we were standing inside an inferno. I was so angry it almost slipped my notice that he’d called me Braxton and not Fawn. “Excuse me?”

“We dismissed our security team. They needed some time off. That means we’re staying put for a couple of days.”

How convenient.

“I don’t need buff men with guns to tell me not to wander down dark alleys.”

“It wasn’t an offer, and I’m definitely not asking. This isn’t a negotiation or a goddamn democracy. Sit. The fuck. Down.”

Houston’s voice had gotten rougher with each word he spoke, but he never reached the point of shouting. I was one thousand percent sure I’d walk out on them and this tour if that ever happened.

Savant could sue me.

This time, I didn’t bother to stop or offer another caustic remark. It would only give them the chance to corner me, so…

I bolted for the door.

Rich was closest, so I knew it was his arm around my waist, lifting me in the air while his free hand slammed closed the door I’d barely gotten open.

“It’s been two months,” he whispered in my ear as he held me. I could have sworn I felt his lips skim my cheek. “You’ve made your point.”