The Devil's Lair by A.M. Madden

remember putting it in my usual safe place. I flew to the said safe place just to find it empty. I waited for Mandi to go to the bathroom so I could crawl around on my hands and knees searching under every piece of furniture in our suite. I checked my jeans pocket, my jacket, and the trash. I looked everywhere. I have no idea what I did with that fucking card.
    The entire band was in my suite, and so was housekeeping. Someone had to have found it and taken it, but who?
    Trey is the only one who knows about my little hobby. Could he be messing with me? I wouldn’t put it past the fucker to try. I watched him during rehearsal, trying to pick up any hints that he’s trying to fuck with me. He hasn’t let on that he is. Of the two possible scenarios of who could have this card, Trey is actually who I’m hoping for. I can handle him, and I’d get it back. If housekeeping found it and recognized an opportunity, I’m fucking sunk.
    I wait until he and I are the last ones left on stage. As he packs up his bass, I step up behind him and demand, “Hand it over.”
    He gives me a sideways glance, but doesn’t stop what he’s doing. Once his case is snapped shut, he turns to face me.
    “Hand what over?”
    “You know.”
    “I know what?”
    “Stop playing around. Just give it back.”
    He folds his arms, eyeing me suspiciously. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
    The possibility that he doesn’t have it actually makes me feel sicker. I was banking on him and his normal prick-like ways. I’m taking a huge risk confiding in him. I am well aware of that and the realization that this can most definitely haunt me and or backfire.
    The alternative is far worse.
    I sigh heavily, mimicking his position. “I left the SD card out by mistake, and now it’s gone. You’re the only person who knows about it, so hand it over.”
    He loses it…full-blown hysterics. He doubles over while holding his knees as his laughs bellow out of his fucking face. “Oh my God, this is beyond hilarious.”
    “You asshole. Just think of Mandi and stop being a prick.”
    He wipes his eyes with a grin still splitting his face in two. “I don’t have it, man. I don’t. I wish I did, but I don’t. Sorry.”
    Fuck.
    “You must promise me something, though. Please let me be there when you tell her.” The asshole cracks up all over again. His laughter and the pounding of my feet are the only sounds that fill the arena as I storm away.
    I’m so dead .
     
     
     
     

Jack
    That rehearsal was awful. It has left me feeling very unsettled. We’ve all had our bad days, except Hunter. He never has a bad rehearsal, until today.
    I watch Leila and the twins playing on the floor. She senses my eyes and looks over at my frowning face.
    “Babe, are you still thinking about rehearsal?”
    She walks over and settles on my lap, the smirk on her face tells me she thinks I’m brooding unnecessarily. Bad rehearsals bring me back to the days of our first tour when every bad one we had was a direct result of the crap we were dealing with at the time. Like an anemometer that measures wind before a massive storm, you could say I equate a bad rehearsal with signs of trouble ahead. It’s probably a stupid way to think, and I hope I’m wrong.
    “He never fucks up,” I blurt out and Leila shoots me a dirty look.
    “Jack.”
    My eyes fly to the twins, who continue to play oblivious to my gutter mouth. If Madden had heard me, he would have repeated it. Crap. I’ve been so good with that.
    “If there is something going on with Hunter, he usually can’t hide it well. With luck, he just ran out of Froot Loops .”
    “Do you want me to talk to him?”
    I shake my head. “No, if something is up, he’ll tell us. I just…” I grip the back of my neck, stalling for the right words. I hate bringing up those days. It upsets her.
    “What?” She instantly calls me out.
    “It’s me. It’s my issue. I’m overreacting.” She gauges my facial expression, and I