When I said he beamed at me, I meant he was smiling stupidly at the wastebasket. He reached out, patting it. “You’re a good sister. Smart, too.” Then he moaned, going back to resting his head over the open toilet.

We were still there five minutes later, when a guard came to the door.

“Everything is picked up.”

Kash nodded, running a brisk hand down his face. “Have staff clean everything, bedrooms too.”

“On it.” He indicated Matt. “A guest complained from three floors below about the music. Hotel staff didn’t want to deal with it, called it in to one of our guys right away. That was the call. He barred them from the room so they weren’t sure what was going on in here.”

Kash scowled. “Guards should never be barred from a room. That defeats the purpose of why they’re paid.”

“Agreed.” He flinched. “I’ll talk to my men tomorrow.”

“You’ll suspend those that fucked up. Helms as well. I told him to take off for three days.”

“Sir?”

“There should be no emotional attachments. They’re hired to do their jobs, that’s all.”

The guard was confused, but he dipped his head down. “Yes, sir.” He hesitated again. “Orders for the rest of the night?”

Kash’s gaze had fallen to me, holding there. He asked the guard, “Quinn didn’t want her at the estate?”

The guard stood up tall, reacting to his question. He coughed before answering, “Uh. Yes. Those were her orders.”

A storm was brewing. Something uneasy passed in the air. The guard felt it. I felt it, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. Even Matt paused, confused, as he turned to look at us again. He mistook the tub for us this time, and nodded, his eyes glossing over before he turned back to the toilet.

“Sir?”

Kash snapped out of his thought, shaking his head. “Normal rotations. I’d like an on-call nurse to come up. She’ll relieve us from Matt.”

“Yes, sir.”

The guard left immediately after.

Not a word was spoken over the next hour.

Kash moved to grab some water for Matt, but returned to half standing/half leaning against the counter by the toilet. I slid down to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest, and after thirty minutes, I rested my head on my knees. When Matt took a breather, Kash would hand him the water with instructions to take only a few sips. He’d take the water when Matt was done, hand him a washcloth to wipe his face, and take it back before Matt lurched over the toilet again.

Judging from the almost bored expression on Kash’s face, I had a feeling this was normal. For them.

Once Matt stopped, Kash and a guard carried him to his bed. He was gently laid down, which surprised me. Another guy might’ve just tossed Matt in, but Kash and the guard didn’t. He was propped on his side. The water on the stand. A fresh washcloth next to it and a towel folded up. Kash put the garbage right underneath Matt so he could lean over and vomit if he needed. At the same time, the guard was positioning Matt’s head so a towel was underneath his face, over the pillow and bed. His knees were bent forward.

When they were done, they stood back and studied him.

The guard glanced at Kash. “Leave the pants on?”

Kash grunted. “I’m not taking them off.” He side-eyed the guard. “You game?”

“Is that part of my job description? Undressing a detox patient?”

For the first time that night, Kash’s mouth flickered in a grin. It was grim and still dark—his theme since he got to the club that night—but it was there.

Oh boy. My heart jumped at the sight.

But Kash was saying, “I think we’re good. Go get the nurse.”

The guard left, and Kash pulled up the sheet over Matt. The room plunged into blackness, and a second later we could hear Matt’s deep and even breathing.

A hand found mine, our fingers linking, and Kash tugged me from the room.

A nurse was standing in the hallway, coming from the living room. She paused, taking us in. Her eyes enlarged at the sight of Kash, but she didn’t say anything. A faint blush came to her cheeks. I didn’t blame her.

He stopped, giving her instructions to check on Matt.

Then we were leaving. Kash went to the elevator. And just as when we were leaving the club, the SUV was waiting for us. We ducked in, slid in, and the vehicle took us to another underground parking lot. We got out, repeated all the same motions, until the doors opened up to what I knew was Kash’s downtown home. This was the one he mentioned before, where he kept all his stuff that he wouldn’t trust around a stranger.

I was tongue-tied, realizing what he’d just shown me by bringing me here.

Kash trusted me. When had that happened?