Crashing East (The Save Me Series Book 4)

by Aly Stiles

  Yeah, but I didn’t know our entire future rested on the jerk in 33G.

  Problem is, there’s no universe where I can tolerate a schism with Viv, so if this is what she wants... “You’re totally right. Again, I’m sorry. I’ll go find him and apologize, okay?”

  She nods, visibly relaxing at my concession. “Thanks. And I’ll go smooth things over with the rest of the band.”

  At least one of us feels better when she leaves me alone in the artist lounge.

  I peek through the glass of Studio Three just to make sure Julian didn’t go back after he stormed out a minute ago, but all I see is Viv chatting with the remaining bandmembers as discussed.

  Great, so I guess I have to do this.

  Maybe it’ll be good for Julian and me to confront each other. We’re obviously set on a crash course toward an end that isn’t an option. Viv wants this, and I need to want what Viv wants. If that means lying to this guy and pretending I can tolerate him during our public interactions, fine. I managed to convince Viv’s ex-fiancé I didn’t want to stab him in the eye. I can do this.

  I roam the halls for a good two minutes before I finally hear heated voices coming from one of the artist lounges on the other side of the building. One sounds male, in the right age range for Julian, but the other doesn’t make sense, so I rule out the possibility. The second voice is too young, a child. Then again, leave it to Julian Campbell to pick a fight with some random kid at a studio.

  “I can’t lose this opportunity!” the guy says. “Please, Naomi, I’m begging you. This is as much for you as for me. Can’t you see that?”

  “Oh, this is for me? Is that why you’re hiding me in a fucking closet?!”

  I freeze, shocked at the little voice uttering those huge words. Also, maybe a tad dramatic.

  “Oh, come on. I’m not hiding you in a closet. This lounge has a big screen TV, video game systems, a pool table, a fridge. Believe me, I know how well these things are stocked. What else do you want?”

  “Nothing!”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “You!”

  “Me?”

  “Yes!”

  “How?”

  “Just… Gah! Never mind!”

  “Naomi…”

  “Stop saying my name!”

  “Okay, it’s just… God, Naomi I don’t—”

  ”I said, stop! I hate you, Uncle Julian. I fucking hate you!”

  I press into the wall as a preteen girl in black shoots from the room and storms down the hall.

  “Naomi! Fuck!” Julian hisses, following her out a second later. He doesn’t see me as he stares after her, his fingers clenched in his hair like I saw earlier when he looked at his phone. His chest rises and falls in a heavy sigh, his eyes tired and confused as he fixes them on something in the distance. He tugs hard at his hairline before dropping his arm to his side where it hangs from slouched shoulders. That strange hurt from earlier floods into his face, draping his entire body and transforming him into something else.

  In this moment, he’s been openly possessed by a person he must be fighting to hide.

  I can’t breathe as I watch in awed silence. My fingers twitch with the need to reach out, to fix something I don’t even understand and know he’d never want to share with me. He might as well be buck-ass naked for the intrusive glimpse I’m getting of his stripped-bare soul.

  He turns to move back into the room and freezes mid-step. His eyes land on me, still welded against the wall like a sconce. They widen in surprise, then horror before his gaze darts down the hall and back to me.

  “Shit,” he mutters. “How much… Fuck!” His hand returns to his hair, and an alarming impulse to free it and soothe his clenched fist surges through my stomach. I swallow it, as horrified at the thought of wanting to comfort him as he is to find me spying.

  “Uncle Julian? So that’s your niece?”

  He sighs, shaking his head, then nodding. “Yeah. It’s… complicated. Look, I know I owe you an explanation and an apology, but I have to… deal with that. So, can we raincheck on the bickering?”

  His lopsided smile shoots through my chest, straight to my heart. Jarring. Yes, I’m jarred as I absorb this unexpected new version of him.

  “Sure. But…” I’ll blame the jarring for my next statement. “They really need you at rehearsal. How about I find your niece and hang with her for a little so you can practice. What’s her name?”

  His look matches how I feel. A WTF the size of Kansas at my offer. I’m already retracting when those dark lashes fan over pleading brown eyes. “Really? You’d do that? Even though…” He stops, those haunting eyes finishing the thought. Even though I’m a total asshole?

  Yes, Julian, I would, because Viv and her dream are worth more than you and your asshole-ness.

  I only nod, though, nervous about what might come out of my mouth right now. It could be anything from “I despise you” to “stop looking at me like that because it makes me want to rip off your shirt and tackle you.” What?! I blink through another round of emotional roulette.

  “Thanks, Hadley. Really. I…” His hand brushes my sleeve before he cringes and shoves his fingers in his back pockets like they’re being punished. What was that? My pulse picks up when his eyes flicker to mine again. “I know you’re not a big fan of me. I accept that, but I swear to you, I want this band thing to happen. More than anything. I need it to happen, so doubt anything you want about me, but don’t doubt that.”

  You know what I really hate? How the thing I’m doubting the most right now is myself.

  Once I’m free of Julian’s confusing presence, the reality of what I offered to do comes crashing down. Find and babysit the mini-hurricane that came blustering by. If her uncle can’t handle her, what hope do I have?

  As a middle child, I have some experience with preteen angst when my younger sister entered (and never left) that phase. While my brother and sister were vying for spotlights, I did my best to avoid them. I had no interest in drama, a fact that has left me isolated from my celebrity family and made me the perfect companion for Viv. I understand her world, while having no interest in being a part of it.

  I love the fact that I can go to a store and not be stopped, that I don’t have to worry if my roots are showing more than they should or my makeup isn’t as crisp as it could be. I hate Viv’s world for her, which is why I work so hard to protect her from it as much as I can. Her boyfriend Oliver is the same, and together we’ve finally managed to help Viv recalibrate her life onto a healthy, sustainable trajectory. Which is why… so help you, Julian Campbell, if you mess this up for her.

  There’s no Plan B, so if that means I need to babysit a kid for a few hours to protect Viv’s dream, then I babysit a kid for a few hours. It wouldn’t even be in the top fifty of the weirdest tasks I’ve done over the last five years in my mission to assist and shield my friend. The money doesn’t hurt either, but honestly, I’m wired to be a protector. A fixer. I’d probably do this job for free, much to the chagrin of my “successful” family.

  Crap, what was the girl’s name again? Nadia? No. Na… Na… Naomi!

  I remember it right as I catch movement through the glass doors of the main entrance. A slight form dressed in all black balances on a decorative stone wall in front of the building. Her legs dangle over the ledge, her heels crashing against the wall with each absent arc.

  I push into the sunlight, and she doesn’t notice me approach, probably because of the music blasting in her ears. Ducking slowly, I enter her line of sight and wave. The girl’s eyes lift to me in surprise before she manages to convert them to irritation. I wish I could say her pretentious reaction was any different than what I get from my sister who’s a decade older.

  “Can I help you?” she asks, ripping an earbud from her ear.

  “Naomi, right?”

  The surprise flickers back, maybe a hint of concern. Her gaze shoots to a vehicle in the neighboring lot, and I wonder if that’s Julian’s.
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  “Why? I’m not hurting anyone. Just sitting here.”

  I smart from the defensive tone of her voice, a dull ache forming in my stomach as her eyes shift into fear. What happened to this poor girl?

  “I know. I’m just here to hang out. I’m pretty bored. What about you?”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “Your Uncle Julian. My boss is in his band. Viv Hastings?”

  Her eyes widen a bit, and I breathe a small sigh when she adjusts in a way that indicates I’m welcome to sit. I take advantage of the invitation before she can change her mind.

  “Viv Hastings? She used to be Genevieve Fox, right?”

  I nod and cross my legs over the edge of the wall. “Yep. But now she wants to take a different direction with her music and career. She’s really excited to work with your uncle. He’s very talented.”

  The girl shrugs. “I guess. I wouldn’t know.”

  I watch her for a second, surprised by her sharp response. “What do you mean?”

  She shrugs again. “He never plays around me or lets me watch.” She glances back at the building before studying the paver stones beneath us again. Wait…

  “Is that something you’re interested in? Music?” I ask.

  This time her indifferent shrug isn’t as believable. Not when she casts another look behind her. I see the way her black nails tighten around the phone in her hands, a music app open on the screen. “I mean, music’s cool, I guess. This place is pretty sweet. It would’ve been cool to… never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Cool to what?” I ask.

  She glances up, searching my eyes for a second. It’s then that I notice the pale green irises glowing through the dark cloud cloaking this girl. Because she is still just a girl. Somewhere inside this tiny wannabe-woman is a child that’s deeply hurting. My heart breaks the longer she stares back. She blinks and pulls her gaze away, focusing once again on the ground.

  Another shrug. If this is all Julian has to work with, no wonder he’s so frustrated. Thoughts of the blatant defeat that settled over him in the hall come racing back. I force away another unexpected twinge.

  “It would’ve been cool to see Genevieve, I guess. She’s kind of… I just mean, she doesn’t suck, you know?”

  I breathe through the silence, doing my best to string these hints into a cohesive story. Pieces start falling into place, and suddenly, a flash of awareness sends a shiver through me. This girl lives with Julian, which means…

  Could that music that’s been annoying me for weeks be a curse for him as well?

  Maybe what I was seeing when I confronted my annoying neighbor wasn’t indifference to my concerns, but a veiled attempt to take the blame for his niece. Let the girl from downstairs hate him; he had bigger problems. And if the fight I’d witnessed was any indication of their regular dynamic—holy powder keg. No wonder he was late today and had to keep leaving rehearsal.

  “Hey so, I should probably get back and see if Viv—Genevieve—needs me. Um…” I leave a calculated pause as I pretend to consider something. “You wouldn’t want to come help me with a project for her, would you? I mean, I know it’s probably silly or whatever, but she’d probably love to meet you.”

  Those green irises light up, blasting me with hope that hurts so much I have to swallow a lump of emotion. Everything about her appearance, demeanor, and what I’ve seen up to this point tells me hope is a rare thing in her world. Does this girl ever smile?

  “Really?” Then her eyes dim again. “But Uncle Julian… he doesn’t want me around.”

  I search her face for more, but can’t break through the mask this time. “Did he actually say that? I happen to know he’s under a lot of stress right now and probably isn’t expressing himself well at the moment. I bet he’s saying and doing a lot of things he doesn’t mean.”

  She shrugs, and I smile.

  “Anyway, it doesn’t matter what he thinks. I’ll handle your Uncle Julian if there’s an issue. Let’s go.”

  I hop down from the wall and motion for her to follow. When I look back, the slightest hint of a smile has arched her lips.

  CHAPTER 3

  JULIAN

  She brought her here?

  The bridge of “Silverlight” crashes to a halt when Hadley returns with Naomi in tow. I almost choke as my neighbor parades into the studio like it’s totally normal for her to show up with my niece.

  To Naomi’s credit, she looks less certain when her gaze flickers to me. It’s not that I don’t want her here, it’s just… okay, yes, that’s what it is. I need to focus, and focus is the last thing I can manage when she’s around. It’s hard to do anything when someone goes out of their way to make sure you know how much they hate you with every look, action, and word. Even now, she’s firing eye-darts at me, as if daring me to make a scene so she can make a bigger one.

  My inhale is so heavy the mic picks it up from a few inches away as Hadley waves Naomi into the room.

  “This is Naomi, Julian’s niece,” Hadley announces. “She’s going to help me with a project while you all practice.” Then she proceeds to drag another chair across the entire floor of the studio to her spot, all of us staring in silent shock. I feel the tension in the room, the epiphanic moment when the pieces snap into place and everyone figures out why I’ve been so weird and what I’ve been hiding from them.

  Plus, Naomi wants a scene.

  I see the way her fingers ball in a fist and brace on her thighs as she takes the seat Hadley offers her. Her eyes bore into me, daring me to challenge the two of them and their weird little pact. I swallow the instinct that wants to lash back, to indulge her pettiness, because guess what? It turns out pettiness must be genetic because man do I feel petty right now.

  My attention shifts back to Hadley and her smug smile. She had to know this is the last thing I wanted. No wonder she volunteered to help. Is this payback? Her way of getting me to crack in front of her boss and get my ass fired on day one?

  She saw our fight, saw my weakness when the mask slipped and I thought I was alone. For a brief moment I thought I felt a thaw between us—maybe even more than that, if I’m honest. Hell, my hand got a mind of its own and reached for her until I managed to retract the strange reaction. Cleary, I misread that entire exchange.

  Gripping the neck of the guitar, I ignore the awkward energy of the room and clear my throat.

  “Yes, that’s my niece. You don’t mind if she hangs with us for today, do you?” I force out.

  A chorus of awkward “no’s” and “of-course-nots” litter the air amidst more subtle coughing and throat-clearing. This is exactly what I’d been trying to avoid. I can practically see Viv on her phone to Sam after this disaster of a rehearsal, begging her to get her out of our contract.

  Worst part, I can’t blame her. I’d do the same in her shoes. If I’d been able to jump ship before the Eastern Crush fiasco, I wouldn’t even have looked for a lifejacket. Just dove over the edge and braved the sharks to avoid the hell that followed.

  Is Viv thinking the same? Her assistant Hadley clearly thinks I’m a cancer. I glance at my niece who hates me and consider the catalog of shitlists I’m on. There’s only one common denominator.

  My jaw sets in a hard line as I force my gaze away from Naomi and Hadley. This is my last chance. I played all my cards, cashed out for this, and already I feel it slipping away. I swallow the surge of panic, the fear swirling through me that’s suddenly making my palms sweat and my muscles constrict.

  Just don’t let them see. Once you lose yourself, you lose everything. Again. And again.

  And fucking again.

  I clench my eyes shut, drawing in a breath. My lungs ache; my heart pounds in my chest as I fight to push away the past and get a hold of the present.

  “Okay, um… let’s pick it up from the top. Viv, you killed that second chorus. I love the run you did on ‘wander.’ Max, maybe less snare and more toms for the pre-chorus, but that groove when we hit the bridge
was perfection. Beck, can you run the same bassline you did on the bridge in verse two? I think it would sound cool with what Travis is playing on rhythm and Max is doing with the kick. Yo, Trav, that overdrive you had on the intro was sick. Maybe keep that going through verse one.”

  I feel more centered when I return to the mic. My pep-talk to the band was as much for me as them. Music I know. Hell, it’s the only thing I know. I’m useless outside of that, which is why I need this to work. I’ve already sold my soul and lost. Now I’m selling the shards of what’s left.

  I shove my right in-ear back in to drown out Hadley and Naomi’s hushed tones behind me. Probably discussing what a shitty guardian and human I am. Whatever. They’re not wrong, but right now I can’t let my failures screw up the one thing I have left. If I lose this too—

  “Hey, Julian?”

  I startle at Viv’s voice and glance over at her.

  She smiles. “This song is gonna be amazing. You’re doing great.”

  By the time we break for lunch, Hadley and Naomi are BFFs.

  Maybe part of me feels relieved to see the girl smile. Sure, I worry about her. Constantly, really. Her mother is dead and her father is the ass-crack of a piece of scum. Of course I feel for her, but I don’t know how to reach her, how to help when I’m probably only a step above her shitty dad.

  What do I know about raising a troubled kid? Two seconds of reading through articles about me and Eastern Crush, and you’d think I was on the committee that invented fuckups. I’m sure she’s seen the articles as well, that she believes all the lies—and tiny slivers of truth. Most people do, and honestly, a lot of my act is to convince myself I deserve this second chance as much as everyone else.

  Naomi laughs, huddled at a table with Hadley and Viv while they eat the lunches she and Hadley brought back for us. The sound catches me off-guard, strangely musical and ethereal. Young. Innocent. It pierces me as I study her from the other side of the room, grabs at my heart and lodges in the pit of my stomach. That should be me making her light up. I’m her family, her guardian, and yet, I’m the one who makes her run.