At that, Ian grinned full-on. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen the stoic man smile before. “On it,” he muttered as he started messing with his phone once more and headed out of the room.
I turned my attention back to the guys, ready to drop a bomb, but I should’ve known better. They weren’t just friends or bandmates. They were my brothers.
“We’re with you, whatever you decide,” Killian stated before I had a chance to speak.
“Tour’s off.” None of them so much as batted an eye when I said that, so I continued. “Until we get all this shit taken care of, no way in hell am I leaving for Asia.”
“Not even a question, brother.” Mace nodded. “You do what you have to do.”
“I’ll call Eugene in the morning,” Garrett offered. “He’s liable to have a heart attack, and you’ve got enough to deal with. I’ll handle it.”
“Wait, wait,” John broke in. “You’re canceling your whole tour?”
“But isn’t this a big deal?” Helene asked.
“It’s a very big deal. And there’s no way they’re canceling.”
I shot around to find Tate, Gina, and Corrie standing in the entryway of the living room.
“I’m not letting you cancel that damn tour. You’re going.” She was looking at me with that familiar fire in her eyes, and the knot that had been in my chest all day finally started to untangle… at least until she spoke again. “But I can’t be your manager anymore.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Tatum
Declan did a slow blink, like he was having trouble processing what I’d just said. I took that as my opportunity to turn to my parents and offer them a lame wave. “Hey, guys.”
They both stood and came over to me, wrapping me in a secure embrace. “Hey, baby girl. How you doin’?” Dad asked.
“Been better. But I’ll survive.”
“What do you mean you can’t be our manager anymore?” Declan asked.
I broke apart from my folks and saw that he’d climbed to his feet, fully prepared to battle. Unfortunately for him, so was I. I’d done nothing but think about what was best for everybody for the past several hours. And unfortunately, quitting my job seemed like the only option.
“Deck, I can’t possibly be your manager after this. And there’s no way I can go on this tour—”
“Like fucking’ hell your not!” he boomed.
“Please, just listen to me,” I pushed on, lifting my hands in a placating gesture. “If I go, the whole thing will be a train wreck. I’ll be nothing but a distraction, and the media will be all over it. It won’t be about the music anymore, as far as they’re concerned. It’ll take away for the band. I can’t let that happen.”
He came at me, taking my face in his hands, his eyes pleading just as much as his words. “I don’t care. They can say and do whatever the hell they want. None of that matters to me. You’re the only thing I care about.”
“He’s right, Tater tot,” Mace said. “Until we get this shit handled—”
“You’ll finish your tour,” I said, completing his sentence before he could. “And once you guys get back, we’ll deal. That’s just how it has to be.”
I looked back to Declan, wrapping my fingers around his wrists and pulling them down, but I didn’t let them go. Instead, I intertwined our fingers and held tight since he really wasn’t going to like what I had to say next. “I’m going to head back to San Francisco with my parents.”
“No—”
“Let me finish.” His lips clamped shut in an angry scowl. “It’s just for a little while. You guys will be on a totally different continent for the next couple of months. There’s no reason for me to stay here all by myself, and to be honest, I really don’t want to. If I’m going to be hounded by the media and psycho fans, I’d rather do it with people around me. While you’re gone, I’ll stay in San Francisco. When you get back, we’ll work on fixing this mess.”
“Baby, that’s letting that asshole win. I won’t let that happen. You can’t let him beat you.”
“He’s not winning,” I replied, even though it kind of felt like he was. But there was just no other choice. The jerk had planned and timed this perfectly. The only option was for me to take a step back. And the guys were under contractual obligation. If they canceled or even delayed the tour, there were serious penalties. It was as if Chris knew all of that and screwed us both at the most inopportune time simply to make it that much worse. “He’ll pay once you get back.”
“Sweetheart,” my father called out. “Never thought I’d say this, but he’s right. You do this, you’re giving that prick exactly what he wants.”
My eyes began to sting with the threat of tears. “There’s nothing else we can do,” I insisted. “Going with them would be a mistake. You think I like the fact that he won this round? I don’t. I freaking hate it. But the game isn’t over yet.”
The stormy gray of Declan’s gaze grew more intense as his voice lowered to a raw whisper filled with emotion. “I can’t lose you again.”
Letting go of his hands, I stepped into him and wrapped my arms around his waist, giving him a fierce hug. “You aren’t losing me,” I whispered back. My arms clenched before I pulled back far enough to look up at him. “I’m not leaving you, I promise. I’m not ending this. I love you, Deck.”
His whole body jerked. “Say it again,” he insisted several seconds later.
“I love you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. Could you please repeat that?”
A giggle managed to escape me, even though I wasn’t exactly in a laughing mood. “I love you, Declan. I’m in love with you. I’m yours and you’re mine. And I want to be with you. We just have to wait a few months to be together again, that’s all.”
His eyes slammed closed and he dropped his forehead against mine, his face tight as though in physical pain. “I love you too. You have no fucking clue how much I love hearing those words, baby. I just wish you followed them up with something better.”
“I do too, but the situation is what it is. At least for now.”
“I don’t want to do this without you.”
A small laugh bubbled past my lips. “I don’t want you to, either. To be honest, I was really starting to love this job.”
He growled from deep within his chest. “I’m gonna fuckin’ destroy Chris.”
“You are,” I agreed with a nod. “But it’ll have to wait until after the tour.” Letting my arms drop to my sides, I stepped back, forcing down the tears that wanted to break free at the thought of living without him for even a day, let alone three months. “It’ll all be okay,” I said softly, even though my heart was breaking in my chest.
Fuck Chris Evers for taking Declan away from me for a second time. I really hoped that asshole got what was coming to him.
Declan
She let her arms fall to her sides and I did the same, going against every instinct in my body by allowing her to take a step back. With a bright smile that was as fake as the day was long, she addressed the room as a whole. “Good. That’s settled. Now, I’m starving. I’m going to make a sandwich. If you want one, I suggest getting your butt into the kitchen.”
With that, she turned and started out of the room. Mace, Kill, Gina, and Garrett followed, each of them giving me matching looks of sympathy as they passed by. Helene stopped in front of me and cupped my cheek. “It’ll all be okay. You’ll see.”
I didn’t have the energy to pretend like she was right, and as if sensing that, she dropped her hand and walked off.
That left me alone in the room with John Valentine, the man who’d threatened to rip my head off more times than I could count. But instead of the bloodshed I feared was about to take place, he shocked the complete hell out of me by standing and clapping me on the back.
“It’s our cross to bear, loving those women. Helene’s mom was the same damn way. Stubborn and headstrong to the core. It’s the hair. Swear to God. You’ll learn which battles to fight
and when to wave the white flag.”
I looked up at the man who’d always held my respect, no matter how much I feared him. “I never meant for any of this to happen, John, I swear. If I could—”
“We can’t control the actions of others, son. All we can do is decide how to react to them. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I’m guessing you’ll react the right way. Just… make her sacrifice worth it. And don’t give up. That’s all I ask.”
I had no idea what came over me in that moment, but I found myself speaking without giving it a single thought. “I bought this house for her. Six years ago. I’d already lost her, but I still bought this place for her and our kids. In all this time, I don’t think I ever really gave up.”
A slow grin took over his entire face. “Yep. You two will be just fine. Now let’s go get a drink. Something tells me you’ll be needing it.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Declan
“This is un-fucking-believable.”
The bright lights of LA filled the dark cab of the SUV, bathing everything in a glow of color. “Careful, Eugene,” I seethed into the phone at my ear. “You’re starting to repeat yourself. Old age finally getting to you?”
“You’re getting to me,” he barked. “I’m going to have a stroke because of you four. First it was no tour, then it was shortened by several months, then a day before it was set to start, you delayed it. You’re incurring countless penalties, not to mention pissing off your fans and the record label. And for what? Women,” he grumbled, like that last word left a disgusting taste in his mouth. “And people wonder why I never married.”
“You never married because no woman would have your miserable ass,” I bit out. “And I’d watch myself if I were you. You’re not indispensable, old man. Agents are a dime a dozen. Hell, with our success, we don’t even really need one. You keep talking shit like that and you’ll find yourself without your cash cow. We understood?”
“Well, you at least need to get another manager. You four can’t be unsupervised. I’ll get on that—”
“You won’t do anything about it. That position doesn’t need to be filled. I’m handling it, I told you that.”
When he didn’t say anything, I kept talking. “We only delayed the start of the tour by a week. So we lose our break between Paris and London, we’ll deal. I’ll pay the goddamn fines, I already told you that. And the label will get over it. If not, we won’t re-sign when our contract’s up. So I suggest you get on board and get off my ass, ’cause this is what’s happening.”
More silence, then a put-out “Fine. I’ll get it taken care of.”
I hung up without saying another word and tossed the phone onto the dash. We were supposed to have left Asia four days ago. If we’d been on schedule, we’d have been on stage in Tokyo at that very moment. But I just couldn’t do it. I’d promised Tate I wouldn’t cancel the tour, and I kept that promise. Fortunately, she’d given me a loophole. I never promised not to delay it. And when I told the guys my plan, they’d been all over it.
“We’re almost there,” Ian said from the driver seat. He was the only one I brought with me for this. Everyone else was waiting for us back in Seattle. I promised them I’d return at the end of the week with Tate in tow, and we planned to leave for Japan from there.
“You got the file?”
“Back seat.”
I reached behind me and pulled the folder off the back seat, flipping it open and looking through the documents Ian’s guys at Alpha Omega put together on Chris. “This is perfect. I can’t believe your buddy was able to pull all this together so damn fast.”
“There’s a reason they’re so damn good at what they do. Trust me when I say you don’t want to get on the bad side of these guys.” He turned the SUV into a shitty apartment complex in an even shittier part of LA. Chris really had been beaten down since the last time I saw him. Unfortunately for him, he’d tried to climb his way back up by stepping on my girl. Now I was going to crush him.
Ian parked and we both climbed out. “His place is up there.”
I looked at the door on the second level, just beside the dilapidated staircase. There were no lights on that I could see. “You sure he’s home?”
“Well, that’s his shitty car in the parking lot right over there, so I guess we’ll find out.”
After climbing the rickety stairs, Ian placed his palm over the peephole as I banged my fist on the dingy, rusted door.
“Who is it?” Chris yelled, and a light from inside flicked on. Instead of answering, I pounded again. “For fuck’s sake, hold on!”
The deadbolt disengaged, and Ian and I stepped to either side. As soon as the door opened, I spun around, landing a vicious jab right to his face.
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck?” Chris stumbled backward, cupping his bleeding nose.
“How you doin’, Chrissy boy?” I asked as I moved into the apartment. Ian closed the door behind us and stood in front of it as I grabbed Chris by the collar and yanked him off the floor. I landed another punch, that one to his jaw. “You doin’ okay?” I kicked out one of his kitchen chairs and dropped him into it, enjoying the sight of his nose and lip bleeding profusely a little too much.
“You stupid son of a bitch! I’m gonna press charges, swear to God!”
I sat across from him, tossing the file Ian had given me onto the table, then flipping it open and thumbing through the pages. “See, I don’t think you’re gonna do that. You’ve been a bad boy, Chris. And very busy. Let’s see….” I turned a couple other pages until I found what I was looking for. “Ah, here we go. Is that…? Yep. That’s a secret compartment in your trunk. Ian, does that look like cocaine to you?”
“Heroin, actually,” he corrected, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared Chris down like he wanted to stomp him to dust. “According to my source.”
“And does that look like he’s selling it to someone else to you?”
“Well, I see him passing a baggy to a guy while taking money.”
“You can’t prove that!” Chris cried.
“Oh, but… I think we can. Right, Ian?”
At that, Ian pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and pulled up a video his buddy in Alpha Omega had filmed when he went undercover to score off Chris the day before.
Chris watched the video, his face turning pale beneath the bruises already forming. When it ended, he looked between me and Ian. “What do you want?”
“How do you mean?” I asked, faking confusion.
“Don’t be an asshole,” Chris hissed. “What’ll it take for you not to leak that video?”
“Oh! Well unfortunately there’s nothing you have that I want.”
“That’s bullshit. Everybody wants something. What is it you want? Is it coke? You need a hookup? I can get that for you, no problem.”
“You got coke on you?” I asked, pretending to be interested.
“Hell yeah. I’m set. I’ll even give it to you at a discount. You got the cash, I’ll set you up right here and now.”
“God,” I chuckled, shaking my head. “You really are a stupid fucker, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“I don’t want anything from you, asshole. This isn’t about blackmail. This is about ruining your life. You never should’ve gone after Tate. That video, and everything else in that file—which includes some pretty damning proof of tax evasion, oh, and let’s not forget the kiddie porn on your computer—have already been turned over to the cops. They’re downstairs, searching your piece of shit car as we speak. Only reason I got to you first is because they extended me the courtesy of being the one to break the news. You’re fucked.”
I stood from the chair as Ian reached for the doorknob.
“You’ve got nothing, you prick! That shit can be doctored.”
Ian opened the door, and two officers were standing right at the threshold.
“You got everything in your search?” I asked one of the cops.
“Ye
p. We’ll take it from here.”
“Good deal. Oh, and you might want to search in here too.” I started for the door as they began cuffing him. “Oh, and just in case you were wondering, Brenda already released everything in that folder to the media. Just a little tip: it’d probably be best not to fight it when you’re being targeted by a bunch of white supremacists lookin’ to make you their bitch in prison. I’ve heard they like a challenge.”
Ian and I took off just as the cops started reading him his rights. He wouldn’t be locked up forever, but even a few years would be impossible for a spineless pussy like Chris Evers. And once all the major networks got hold of the story, nothing he said about Tate would count for a single goddamn thing. The icing on the cake was the fact that our lawyers were already going after the gossip site that initially leaked the story and pictures. Being tied to a convicted criminal with a history of selling drugs and pedophilia was going to ruin them.
That was just an added bonus as far as I was concerned.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Tatum
“Stop pouting. You’ll to give yourself wrinkles.”
I pulled the pillow from behind my head and launched it at Lyla, who was lying on the end of my bed on her stomach, painting her nails a bright, cheery pink. I hated the color and its stupid cheerfulness. I’d been back in San Francisco for a little less than a week, and I missed Declan so much it was as if a piece of me was missing.
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