Information about Hendrix, no doubt.

Once again, revenge comes first. I walk toward the door, my hands trembling. I get to it before Dimitri realizes I’ve moved. “Whoa, Jess, where are you goin’?”

I turn to him just as soon as I’ve opened the door. “Where am I going?” I begin in a whisper that quickly turns to a scream. “Where am I going? I’m going to fucking leave, that’s where I’m going. How dare you take his side? How dare you support the monster that he is? I thought . . . I thought you understood better than anyone but I was wrong. You’re no better than him. Revenge is all you care about.”

“Luke, get hold of her,” Dimitri murmurs to Luke, his eyes still on mine. He knows I’m about to run.

He’s right.

I turn and I bolt out into the crowd. I hear him bellow something, and I hear Luke’s answering yell. I honestly don’t think I’ll be able to get out of the fighting ring before Luke gets hold of me, but I have an advantage—I’m tiny and Luke is huge. I shove through the people, squeezing through gaps. The minute I reach the door, I leap out into the cool night air.

Like the heavens have opened for me, I notice a cab parked on the side of the road. I charge toward it and swing open the door. Someone who was waiting in line spits a curse at me, but it doesn’t halt me. I need to get out of here. The moment I have the door shut, I turn to the driver, “Can you get me out of here, please?”

The cab driver nods and pulls away. I turn and peer out of the back window just in time to see Luke and Dimitri run out of the club. I duck in my seat, panting. I swallow over and over, trying to keep the bile in my stomach from rising. I didn’t really think about my plan, I just knew I had to get out of there. I don’t have any money, which means I can’t even pay this driver.

I feel panic rise in my chest.

What am I supposed to do? Without money, I’ve got no hope. I remember the phone Dimitri gave me, and with a sudden rush of desperation, I yank it out. I know Hendrix’s number back to front, but the chances of him answering it are so slim it’s almost not worth trying. But I have to try—he’s possibly the only chance I’ve got right now, slim or not. I begin to dial his number when a text message flashes on the screen.

Dimitri—I will find you, Jess. Come back to the club. We need to talk.

I shake my head, holding back my tears as I finish dialing Hendrix. Taking a deep breath, I press the phone to my ear. It begins to ring. That’s a good sign. If he was out of service, it wouldn’t ring at all. I begin losing hope, though, when it rings and rings, with no answer. I’m just about to hang up when I hear the distinct clicking sound of someone answering.

“Yeah?”

Relief floods my body and I lose hold of the tears I was keeping back.

“H-H-H-Hendrix?”

“Jess?” he rasps. “Fuck, Jess, is that you?”

“It’s me,” I whisper, trembling.

“Are you okay? Where are you? Tell me where you are?”

“I’m . . . I’m . . .”

I have no idea where I am. I lean forward and say to the cab driver, “What city are we in?”

He gives me a look over his shoulder and mutters, “Los Angeles.”

Really?

“Did you hear that?” I whisper.

“I’m docked there too,” he says, his voice a sound I’ve missed so much. “We’ve been tracking Dimitri. I didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to bring you onto land . . .”

“I’m in a cab, I just ran from him. I’ve got no money, Hendrix.”

“Tell him to bring you to Hotel Bel-Air. I’ll meet you there.”

“Is Indi with you?” I whisper.

“No, kid, she’s on the ship still. Be there in twenty.”

I hang up the phone and tell the cab driver where to take me. It takes us a solid forty minutes to reach the hotel, but the moment we arrive I can see Hendrix standing out front, pacing. My heart swells and more tears stumble down my cheeks. Hendrix turns to the cab, and his eyes widen. I open the door and get out, and I see his chest exhale. He was holding his breath.

I rush over to him and he takes big strides to get to me. The minute I’m in front of him, he leans down and lifts me up, scooping me into the biggest hug he’s ever given me. “Fuck, Jess, I’m so sorry.” He holds me tight, so tightly I can hardly breathe, but I don’t care. Seeing him again is all I wanted. My tears soak his shirt and I take a minute to inhale, remembering him the way I know him.

“Excuse me?” the cab driver says. “That’s eighty dollars.”

Hendrix lets me go and shoves a hand into his pocket, pulling out two fifty dollar bills. “Keep the change.”

“Why . . . thanks,” the cab driver says, getting back into the car and driving off.

Hendrix turns back to me, and his hands reach out and take mine. Then he starts turning my arms over and staring at them. He’s seeing if I’m hurt.

“I’m okay, he didn’t hurt me,” I whisper.

“Come inside, we have to talk.”

I nod and follow him inside. He tells the girl at the front desk that he wants a room for me, and when we have the keys we head up. On the elevator, he turns to me and cups my cheeks. “Fuckin’ scared, every fuckin’ second.”

“I know,” I whisper. “I’m okay.”

The elevator dings and we both exit, heading to the room. When we get in, I take only a moment to look around. It’s a nice room, with a king-sized bed and warm tones. The bathroom is a warm caramel-type color and there’s a massive bath. There’s a small fridge and a kettle, as well as a two-person sofa. A set of large sliding doors open onto a deck with a great view.