Page 135 of A Little Jaded

The usual. Let me see if Judge can swing by and grab you.

Me

Don’t you dare. Judge terrifies me.

Dodger

Judge terrifies everyone.

He isn’t wrong.

Pretty sure I’ve only heard Judge say a dozen words in all the time I’ve known him. The idea of spending even twominutes in the same car with him sounds absolutely miserable.

Me

Seriously, don’t send Judge. I’m good.

Dodger

Fine. I’ll send Pax. Here’s his number: 555.972.2234 He’s on his way.

I check the time on my phone and frown.

Me

I don’t want either of you missing your set.

Dodger

Don’t give a shit about the set if you aren’t here to watch it.

Liar.

Don’t get me wrong. My brother loves when his family is there to support him, but he doesn’t play for me. He plays for him and only him.

Me

Mm-hmm. Sure.

Dodger

Stay put. He’ll be there in five.

I check the time again. His concert is supposed to start in five.

With a huff, I grab my purse and tuck my phone inside, confirming the taser Dylan gave me is still there, too.

Yup. There she is. Good ol’ Bertha.

Finley named it. Even decorated the side with neon puff paint during our girls’ day. Peeking out the window, I search for Paxton’s headlights, but the street is as dark as ever.

After fifteen minutes, I send Pax a text.

Me

Hey, Pax! This is Raine. Dodge said you were picking me up? Any idea how far away you are?

It’s a stupid question. SeaBird is barely three blocks away from Etch ‘N’ Ink. If Pax left when Dodger said he did, he would’ve easily been here by now. Maybe something held him up? Anxiously, I pace the waiting area, rearranging the magazines sprawled on one of the coffee tables. When I check my phone again, another five minutes have passed and the message is still on delivered, never moving to read.