by Vicki James
“Not really. What other choice do I have? If Janey Dominic is coming after my friends, it’ll only be a matter of time before she goes after my family, and we both know they’re not as loyal and as quick to react as you.”
“Remind me how it’s possible that someone as lovely as you is related to those three imbeciles.”
“I wish I knew.” I hit call and lifted the phone to my ear.
The phone connected quickly, a chipper sounding male introducing himself as, “RDB Management, this is Malcolm speaking.”
“H-hello, I need to speak with Dicky Bennett… please.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Bennett isn’t in the office right now. Can I take a message?” the enthusiastic, high-pitched Malcolm chirped.
“No, I need to speak to him now.”
There was a slight pause. “And who may I say is calling?”
“My name is Tessa Lisbon.”
Another pause. “I’m sorry, Miss Lisbon, but what’s this regarding?”
“It’s regarding…” I looked up at Molly, and she gave me a wide-eyed nod, urging me to go on. “It’s regarding Presley West.”
Malcolm cleared his throat ever so slightly. “All press and publication enquiries go through Mr West’s publicist, Julia Speed. Any interview requests, media—”
“Cut the crap, Malcolm.” I sighed, surprised by my own abruptness. “I’m not part of the press. I’m Tessa Lisbon. I’m the one person Dicky Bennett will want to speak to today. Trust me. And if you don’t trust me, on your head be it when Dicky finds out you were the guy who had me on the end of the phone and turned me away.”
Molly’s eyes widened, and I cringed up at her.
“Okay,” Malcolm eventually responded. “I’m going to need a reason to make him take your call, Miss Lisbon.”
“You tell him you’ve got the one girl who matters on hold. He’ll understand.”
And just like that, with a few clicks and beeps, I had Dicky Bennett on the other end of the call.
“Dicky Bennett speaking,” he said roughly. I heard the scraping of a chair and a few things being shuffled around.
“Hi,” I squeaked, instantly intimidated by his gruff tone.
“Miss Lisbon, I assume?”
“That’s right.” I nodded like he could see me. “You probably know me as—”
“The new pain in my ass?”
“I was going to say Cherry, actually.”
“Right.” Dicky sighed like he was bored. “And how much is this call going to cost me, sweet Cherry?”
“Excuse me?” I frowned.
“Money, Miss Lisbon. That’s why you’re calling me, isn’t it?”
“Money for what?”
“Your silence?”
“Hell no,” I breathed out.
“Shame. A problem that can be solved with money isn’t really a problem. A problem that can’t be solved with money is a whole other ball game.”
“Why do you assume I’m calling with a problem?” I asked defensively.
“Why else would you be reaching out to the likes of me?”
“Maybe because I’ve suddenly found myself caught up in something that I don’t want to be caught up in, and this is so far out of my realm of normalcy, I didn’t know who the fuck else to call. Especially when I find out that Janey Dominic has got spies on me from all angles and is trying to get to my friends to bribe me for information about Presley.”
Dicky remained silent for so long, I found myself holding the phone out to check the screen and make sure I’d not accidentally knocked the mute button, or worse, ended the call altogether. When I heard his breathing, I continued.
“Janey had someone come into my workplace, hit on my friend, get her drunk and then try to get information out of her about Presley and me.”
“Welcome to the world of fucking a rock star. What did you expect? To screw Presley and then go back to work on Monday morning like you weren’t fresh meat for the tabloids to rip into?”
“I—”
“What I want to know is, why are you calling me and not your boyfriend?”
“He isn’t—”
“And what makes you think I have the time to listen to your problems when I have a million of my own?”
My mouth hung open as I stared up at Molly, whose anger was clearly growing into rage with every word she heard Dicky bark at me.
“Newsflash,” he began, and I heard the creak of a chair followed by the tapping of a pen. “I don’t know what you want from me, but Janey Dominic is your problem now. You play with fire, and you get burnt. The guys of the band knew the risk involved in dragging people they actually cared about into this life. It’s a jungle out there, Miss Lisbon. It’s savage, unforgiving, and unconcerned with a good girl’s morals and decent heart. If Presley West selfishly brought you into it and then left you to deal with the aftermath by yourself, I’d consider this…” He paused, the sound of his exhale echoing down the phone. “Consider that he doesn’t actually give a fuck about you and that him saying you were a girl who mattered was just a line he said to help get him laid.”
Molly’s eyes narrowed in anger, and she gestured for me to hand the phone to her, but I shook my head and held my hand up, knowing I needed to deal with this for myself.
“First of all, thanks for that,” I said in quiet, yet somewhat sarcastic response. “Secondly, you can talk to me with disdain in your voice all you want, but I didn’t know Presley was going to knock on my door yesterday. I’ve not seen him in over three years—not in person. I don’t know how to handle this kind of stuff, Dicky, and the last thing I want is this Janey Dominic finding some reason to dig into my life and splash it across the front pages of some damn newspaper when all I’ve ever tried to be to Presley is a friend. I want him to succeed. You know that, right? I want him to live his life. I don’t want his or your money. I don’t want to be that chick who holds him back. I don’t want anything from him. I don’t want…”
“… him to love you like you love him?”
I swallowed the lie I was about to respond with, instead, taking a moment to compose myself.
“What, exactly, are you expecting me to do here?” he asked, cutting off my thoughts.
“I need to speak to Presley one more time,” I answered.
“Then call him. I’m sure you have his number.”
“I don’t,” and even through his silence, I could tell that answer surprised Dicky, “that might sound strange to you, but Presley and I only ever spent one night together a few years ago, and apart from his return this weekend, I made him promise to go live his life and keep me out of it. I had no need for his number. I didn’t want him to feel like he owed me anything.”
“How very noble of you.”
“Watch how you speak to my best friend, you suit-wearing prick!” Molly called out, her annoyance overflowing.
“Molly!” I hissed in warning, covering the mouthpiece, but it was too late. Dicky had heard, and his rough, echoing laughter burst free.
“Sorry,” I told him, lowering my hand.
“Don’t you dare apologise to him on my behalf,” Molly warned, and I had to roll my eyes and plant my palm on my forehead.
“Send your friend to Janey Dominic. Maybe that’ll keep her from knocking on your door,” Dicky suggested sarcastically.
“Unfortunately, it was my friend Janey went after this afternoon.”
“Ah, I guess that explains the anger.”
“No, that’s all on you, arsehole,” Molly grumbled not-so-quietly.
Dicky chuckled again before there was silence between all three of us.
“So… can you get him to call me?” I asked quietly, my heart beating hard against my chest.
“You’re a complication I don’t need in the band’s life, Cherry. If I get him to call you, I’m telling him I’m okay with this whole thing that’s going on between the two of you, and to make my stance on all this crystal clear to you… I’m not okay with it.”
“
I understand.”
When I glanced up at Molly, she was mouthing all kinds of obscenities at me, urging me to stand up for myself. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t being my usual, sarcastic self. Maybe because I knew, deep down, speaking to Presley again was a bad idea. He’d already walked away once, and so had I. We were equal now. If he walked out on me again, my irrational little heart would feel cheated, and I knew damn well I wasn’t strong enough to walk away from him a second time.
“How do I know you won’t be that complication for me, Miss Lisbon?” Dicky asked, cutting through my thoughts.
“I guess you won’t.”
“Then you’re asking me to take a gigantic leap of faith with a woman I don’t even know.”
I’d run out of reason, rhyme, or responses. Maybe I should just let Presley go and deal with the aftermath of his brief return by myself. If I stayed hidden enough, surely they’d get bored of me. Surely they’d figure out that a girl like me could never sell their newspapers for them. Without Presley, I wasn’t news.
Without Presley, I was still a fighter, though.
A survivor.
“I’m not going to beg you,” I told him calmly. “If you don’t want to tell Presley I called, don’t. If you don’t want him to know I need him, that’s on you. But I know Presley, Mr Bennett, and I can promise you one thing: whether it’s now, a year, five years, or ten years… he’ll come back for me again. He’ll find me again when he needs something real to drag him back down to earth, and next time he does, I may take it upon myself to make him stay a little bit longer than I did this time around. Longer, forever, whatever I see fit once he’s grown tired of your and the industry’s games.” Molly’s smile grew slowly, her eyes widening as her approval shone back at me. “Over to you, Dicky. I’ll survive no matter what you decide. I hope you can say the same for yourself if Presley ever finds out I needed him, and you were the one who didn’t let him know I was in trouble.”
I was about to end the call when I heard him call out, “Wait!”
Raising my brows, I did as I was asked, my eyes locked on Molly’s.
“I have another proposal for you,” Dicky said, a huff of air leaving him at once.
“What kind?”
“The kind that guarantees you Janey Dominic won’t be a problem to you or your friend ever again.”
“That depends what it’s going to cost me,” I answered softly. “My soul isn’t for sale here.”
“You won’t lose anything, but you’ll gain your peace. No more reporters. No more harassment. I’ll make sure that, in their eyes, you never existed.”
“No, no, no,” Molly mouthed, shaking her head violently and wafting her arms back and forth.
But I remained still, the galloping of my heart getting faster at the thought of peace—true peace.
“What would I have to do?” I asked with caution.
“Only one thing, Tessa.” He paused. “You promise to never answer the door to Presley West ever again. You guarantee me that, and I’ll set things in motion to keep Janey and the rest of them away from you.”
I searched Molly’s face, and her eyes were begging me to refuse.
But peace was a girl like mine’s dream. Peace was an invaluable gift.
Peace for me.
Peace for Presley.
Peace for what we could have been.
Peace for what we never would be.
Without Presley, peace was the only other thing life could give me that I’d treasure for the rest of eternity.
“Do we have a deal?” Dicky asked.
Chapter Seventeen
Molly decided to spend the night, opting to sleep in my bed beside me. But listening to her soft snores while I stared helplessly at the night’s shadows on the ceiling made me restless, so I found myself making my way to the sofa in the living room, where I curled up into a ball with a fluffy cream blanket wrapped over me. I’d left all the curtains open, choosing to watch the outside world for a while instead of letting myself drown in the dark.
What was I doing? What had I done? How could I try to pretend that Presley didn’t mean what he meant to me?
My eyes burned for sleep, but my busy mind had other ideas. There was a constant knot in the pit of my stomach, tugging and teasing at my every last nerve. That only got tighter when the screen of my phone lit up the living room, remaining silent so as not to wake Molly, but alerting me anyway.
Sticking a hand out of my blanket, I stretched and reached over for it before pulling it closer to me. The minute I saw his name, my heart began to beat to the rhythm of one of his songs.
Presley: Are you awake?
I began to type back a witty response, but then I remembered the promise I’d made to Dicky earlier, and instead, I sat up and stared at my screen in total confusion. Presley had never text me before. I didn’t even know he had my number, and I definitely hadn’t ever stored his on my phone.
“He must have done it while he was here,” I whispered to no one but myself. “You promised not to open the door to him again, Tess,” I said, closing my eyes to try and control my breathing. “Don’t answer—”
The phone in my hand began to vibrate, and my eyes shot open to see Presley’s name lighting up the screen again—only this time he was calling me.
I didn’t answer the first three attempts he made, and by the time his calls stopped, my hands were shaking, and it felt like I’d chewn a chunk of my bottom lip out.
Presley: I know you’re awake. I saw the bubble come up when you first started to reply… before you chickened out. You better answer my next call or else I’m about to make my way back to your place and knock your damn door down.
Fuck!
Right on cue, the phone rang again.
“Hello,” I answered quietly.
The noise coming from the other end was explosive, with the heavy bass of music pouring into the quiet of my little apartment.
“Cherry?”
“Yeah.”
“What the fuck is with the shitty mind games? Not answering my calls. Ignoring me. Pretending you’re asleep. Don’t ever do that again. That’s not who we are.”
We...?
I heard a door slam, a lock turn, and the noise around him dilute just enough to let me hear his caramel, smoky voice a little clearer. Presley was cursing under his breath, wheezing down the phone like he’d just run a damn marathon.
“I’m just going to fucking ask this outright because for once I can’t find the words to say what I want to say,” he admitted sharply, his tone off. “Did you make a deal with my management about me?”
The question hung in the air, waiting to drop.
“Did you?” he pressed.
“Yes,” I answered softly, unable to lie to him.
The sound of disgust he made caught in his throat. “You? My Cherry made a deal behind my back?”
“I’m not... I’m not your Cherry, Presley. You need to stop saying things like that to me.”
“Okay, first of all, you don’t get to tell me what the fuck you are to me—or what you were to me. That’s not up to you, so quit with the second-guessing, the bullshit excuses as to why I can’t feel what I feel. Second of all…” He blew out a breath. “I would have bet my life on it that you would be the last person in the world to do this to me.”
“Presley, it wasn’t like that. Whatever Dicky told you, I haven’t—”
“Oh, you have,” he spat back, and I could almost see the look he’d be wearing in my mind: nose curled. A hand raking through that hair of his I loved so much. His mouth downturned. The light and warmth from his eyes gone.
“Not how you think. Not the way you’re imagining it. I haven’t asked for any money or anything.”
“Yeah, because that’s the only thing you could take from me that would hurt, right?”
“This isn’t just about you. This is about me, my life, and the fact that I can’t fight like you can.”
“Fight? What the fuck does that mean?
”
“It means I don’t have a management team or a publicist behind me if my shit gets spread across all the newspapers. It means I don’t have any protection like you. I don’t have a nice life or bottomless bank balance that can sort out all my problems. I have a mother, father, and brother made from mistakes and bad reputations. You think I want the whole bloody world to know about them, or me, or my friends? Do you think I want them to be associated with you—to embarrass you with their stories?”
“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
I sat up straighter, a hand worrying my forehead as I stared down at the floor—the one we’d screwed each other on only a day before. The one that held the ghosts of our reunion. “Janey Dominic knows. She came after me… and my best friend Molly.”
“Came after you, how?”
“Dicky hasn’t told you this part?” I scowled.
“Told me what?”
Great. Just great.
“It’s a long story, but Molly was in danger. Janey roped someone else in to get information from her about us—you… and me. Not long after, I got a call making threats, demanding I talk about you. Demanding I tell her why you could possibly want to run to… me. She said she wasn’t going to quit until she got her damn story. She wasn’t going to leave me alone.”
“Shit, Cherry,” he hissed.
“You really didn’t know?”
“If I knew, do you think I’d be at this lame arse fucking party right now? I’d be chasing that bitch around London, tracking her down so I could serve up a few threats of my own.”
I frowned harder. “Presley, what exactly did Dicky tell you about my phone call to him?”
“That you’d called him in a panic and told him you wanted me to stay the hell away from you. You’d had enough. You couldn’t handle me being around, so you went ahead and made a deal.”
“But not why? Or what I’d actually said?”
“No.”
It was my turn to sigh before I ran through everything that had happened with JD, Trey, and my phone call with Dicky. I explained, word for word, what conversation we’d had, including the parts where I asked for him to get Presley to talk to me, followed by the crap I’d reluctantly agreed to about never answering the door to Presley again. The only thing I left out to save both our souls was the part where Dicky had suggested I was in love with Presley West.
