by K. K. Allen
My next breath is heavy, as if I’ve finally come up for air after days of drowning, and a whoosh of relief fills me. I’m unprepared for the emotions, but I do my best to mask them. “Tomorrow?”
I don’t miss the small smile on Doug’s lips. Guess I’m shit at hiding things. The bastard knew what I wanted to hear. Of course he did. “Not sure. I know she’ll be at the final show, and then she’ll be flying with you guys to Florida for the studio record. The company wanted me to take the reins, but things changed today. I’m getting pulled onto another show.” He sighs. “I wasn’t planning to travel for a good while, but they need someone to babysit Tony after that catastrophe between you guys. Rumor is, he completely lost it after that night. Went rogue on his band, missed a show, and now he’s hitting the drugs hard.”
I lean forward, raising my brows in intrigue while trying not to reveal my satisfaction. If it weren’t for Tony’s bitch move that night, showing up at the club and manhandling Lyric like he owned her, none of us would be in this mess. Lyric would be here, with me, in bed. Under me. Full of me. Loving me.
Shaking my head to rid my mind of useless could-have-beens, I focus on Doug. “I don’t know how much of it is true, but with Lyric back out on tour with you, the company doesn’t want to take any risks.”
“Makes sense. So you’re taking off at the end of this leg?”
Doug nods. “Looks like it. I’ll get Lyric settled back in, and then I’m off.”
“I appreciate you telling me. And thanks for filling in this week. You’re always welcome on my bus, man.”
He smirks. “Thanks. Figured I’d tell you first. I should have told Crawley already, but I can’t stand the guy. Sorry.”
I shake my head. “Don’t be. He’s toast, anyway.”
“I can’t say I’m not happy to hear that. He’s definitely got it out for Lyric. You know he tried to alter the terms of her tour contract, right? I probably shouldn’t be telling you this because it’s a non-issue, but Crawley is a real sleazeball. I don’t trust him.”
My face flames. “What?” I try not to shout, but I know my voice is raised. I lean forward and grip the table so hard my knuckles turn white. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“I wouldn’t lie. He added a line about her working for him, not you. Some shit like that. The legal aid from your attorney’s office totally missed it and sent it through to the label. The kid should have been fired. You’re telling me no one talked to you about this?”
I shake my head, face flaming. “Crawley handles communication between the lawyers and the label. I trusted that he’d pull me in as needed.” Shaking my head, I take another swig of my drink. “I’ll call Fredrick today. Sounds like I need to be point of contact from now on.” Fredrick has been my attorney for years. Crawley talked me into hiring him when the band was beginning to catch the eye of labels.
Doug nods. “Luckily the label caught the new wording, questioned it, and had it fixed immediately. Crawley claimed it was an accident. The legal aid who missed it is a bumbling idiot, if you ask me. Your attorney must be fond of the kid because he got off with a warning. Reprieve for a first time fuck up or something like that.”
I don’t care about the legal aid. “Crawley’s got to go today. Fuck.” I pause, wondering how much I should tell Doug. “He says he’s got something on me. I wanted to find out what it was before I cut him loose so I wouldn’t be blindsided.”
Doug leans back, stress lines creasing his forehead. “Do you have any idea what it could be?”
I shake my head, gritting my teeth and still reeling from the legal fuckup. “Not a clue. I think he’s full of shit.”
Doug nods. “He’s probably bluffing. I’ve known the dipshit too long. It might be better to take your chances at this point and cut him loose.”
“Thanks, Doug.” I’m grateful for some sanity in all of this. “You wouldn’t happen to want to take the job, would you? You’d make a helluva band manager.” I flash him a grin.
Doug chuckles. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m quite looking forward to babysitting Tony. Keeping him far away from you and Lyric.”
I’m looking forward to that too, actually. “All right, then. Well, if you know any band managers who are up for the job, let me know.” I toss my napkin on the table and stand to shake Doug’s hand.
“You’re a good man, Wolf.”
“You too, Doug.”
Walking away from lunch, I’m feeling a million different things, but above all, I’m anxious. She’s coming back on tour. And I have no fucking clue what comes next.
Chapter Three
Lyric
She’s thirty minutes late when she finally breezes through Buon Appetito, a quaint Italian restaurant in downtown San Diego. I’m surprised. Although the establishment is high-end, the customers seem laidback, mostly dressed in casual attire. I fit right in, ripped denim and all.
I have to laugh when Destiny takes a look around the room and lifts her nose slightly in distaste. She, unlike the rest of us, is dressed in her finest pressed beige and white suit. Not much of a rock star look, but Destiny has always been a little different. She’s more socialite than rock star, anyway. And I have to admit, she looks Botoxed to perfection.
There’s no question that Destiny Lane is a world class beauty. Flawless skin, thanks to her premium gold and caviar-laden products and enough smarts to stay out of the sun. Perfect figure, thanks to Frank, her personal trainer, and her Jennifer Lopez-inspired diet of green smoothies and kale salad. And her hair is every woman’s dream—thick, long, waves straightened daily, every strand perfectly in place.
Lunch patrons turn to watch her walk through the elegant restaurant. As a little girl, I was in awe of the attention she always drew to her—like a spotlight followed her every move. Not much has changed.
A tight smile settles on her face when she finally sees me. Her eyes sweep over me, and I know she’s fighting the criticism already. I’m dressed just as I normally do: tight, dark designer jeans and a ribbed dress shirt. I can tell she wants to pick me apart, but it doesn’t bother me the way it used to. I look classy—especially with the Louboutins on my feet, the one concession I’m willing to make to placate my mother.
“Destiny.” I stand and kiss her cheek, returning her tight smile with one of my own. It hurts to pull off, then again, my face still has its full range of expressions, free from fillers and enhancements.
It’s so strange to hug the woman who gave birth to me but feel like I’m embracing a complete stranger. A twinge of anger surfaces, as it always does when I think of her, at just how much I’ve missed out on because of her. A reminder of why I don’t do this. Why I never respond to her desperate text messages. Because today, she’ll ask me for something that will send me over the edge. I already know it. It’s just a matter of time…
“Lyric, you look well,” she greets. Even after all these years of having this awkward, strained relationship with my mother, her formal tone hurts.
“Thank you.”
The waiter comes to take our drink order, and Destiny orders for us. A bottle of their best red. Of course. When another server brings a basket of bread to the table, she shoots him a glare and waves her hand, gesturing for him to remove it. My eyes go wide at her rudeness. Not only that, but I’m starved. I want that bread. I snatch a piece from the bowl before our server retreats.
My mother shoots me a disapproving glare, but I don’t care. I pick at the bread while staring back at her blankly. “I don’t have much time,” I say, careful not to betray my distrust and annoyance with the tone of my voice. “I have to pack for a tour.”
She nods and taps a perfectly manicured fingernail on the table. “Yes, I understand you’ve been off the road for a few days. I can’t say I’m surprised you’re returning to that tour. But can I ask why? Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough? First Tony, and now this Wolf character?”
My insides immediately boil. There was no warning, but then again, t
here never has been. I was stupid to think the insults would take a few minutes to roll in.
“Excuse me?” I narrow my eyes back at her, and she takes in a quick breath.
“Lyric, you know how I feel about you touring. People don’t understand why you aren’t making more of yourself.”
Because I don’t ever want to be like you.
“People?” I ask before shoving a bigger bite of bread in my mouth. “Or you?” Crumbs fly out of my mouth, and I’m completely satisfied to see a look of disgust cross her face.
“I know what you’re doing,” she says, her voice low. Then she sighs again. “I’ll never understand what you see in that job of yours, but fine. I have no strength to change your mind. However, your personal life, now that it’s public knowledge, is bad publicity for me too.”
Surprise, surprise. She only cares because of her reputation. Not mine.
“I don’t care how this looks for you.” My voice is low but starts to shake, so I pause a moment to try again. “Tony physically assaulted me. Did you know that part? He’s in the wrong here. Not me. Not Wolf. Wolf was just trying to protect me. His name has been tossed in the mud more than mine, yet no one seems to care that he’s innocent in all of this.”
My mom snorts. That’s right; Destiny Lane snorts. “Well, I hardly doubt his reputation isn’t deserved. Everyone knows about that boy. Why, dear, do you fall for these hopeless rock stars? You should know better than anyone that no good will come of this relationship.”
“Stop!” I say, louder than I meant to. Heads turn in our direction, and my face blanches.
“Look.” I lower my voice and stare back into her cold, brown eyes, which are wide with surprise at my outburst. I’m glad I got my eyes from my father. Hers are as dark as her soul.
“My love life and my job are of no concerns of yours. If you care about me at all, then please, keep your judgments to yourself. Your words don’t affect me anymore, Destiny. Nothing you do does.”
She gasps. “I am your mother,” she whispers back, but it’s dripping with contempt.
“You haven’t been a mother to me for as long as I can remember.” I push my chair back to stand, but she holds out a hand in a desperate attempt to get me to stay.
Predictable. She wants something.
“Stop,” she pleads. “I wanted to have a nice lunch with you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to turn so ugly.”
I do stop. Her expression is one of genuine concern, but I can’t help but think there’s something else beneath the surface. She definitely wants something from me.
I sigh, giving in for the moment. “Can we talk about something else?” I try. “What have you been working on?”
And that does it. There’s nothing that does the trick better than allowing Destiny to talk about herself. For the next hour as we drink our wine and eat our food, Destiny tells story after story about what she’s been working on, how her label plans to rebrand her and bring her back on the music scene with a splash.
By the time we’ve finished our food, my eyes are sore from eye roll restraint. I’m about to excuse myself to call for a car when she drops the bombshell.
“So,” she says casually, “Soaring Records is looking for some original material. The rebranding part is going great with the photoshoots and the producers we picked out, but the label wants me to emerge with something as fresh as my last album.” She takes a sip of her wine. “I can’t believe it’s been six years since I released My Forever.”
My Forever. I can’t believe she has the nerve to bring that up.
“You want my lyrics.”
No need to ask the question. This is what Destiny is after, what she’s always been after. At least she’s asking this time. I’ve never meant a thing to her, except for when she can use me. Thank God I’m not seventeen years old anymore.
She’s smiling brightly. “Honey, I thought we could work together. You know, collaborate? It would take you off that awful tour and out of the spotlight. Give the rumors some time to die down.” She’s smiling as if we’ve been great friends our whole lives. “And we could be closer, like we used to be.”
Bullshit. She’s delusional if she thinks we’ve ever been close.
She continues, “Maybe you can make a name for yourself as a songwriter. It’s the perfect solution to everything you’re going through.”
I sit back and assess her bright smile. She’s halfway gone on the crazy train. “Destiny, I am a songwriter. Just because there’s nothing published in my name, that doesn’t make me less of what I am. Or did you forget?”
She sighs and slouches in her seat, as if my words are an inconvenience to her plan. “Lyric, not this again.”
“Yes, this again, because you brought it up. You disappeared for months, made a record out of twelve of my songs, and never once mentioned me. Your daughter. And when I confronted you about it, you waved me away like I had no right to expect anything more from you.” I’m seething, but I do my best to keep my voice calm. “How could you do that to me? Every single song credited you as the writer and composer. Just you.
“Tell me, Destiny, how the hell did you manage to arrange an entire album all by yourself?”
Destiny’s eyes dart around the room, but no one is paying attention to us anymore. “Keep your voice down. I thought we settled this long ago. It was a misunderstanding.”
My eyes widen. We never settled anything. “A misunderstanding?”
She’s not worth the years of pain I’ve suffered trying to understand how a mother could steal something so significant from her own child. Songwriting was my dream. My everything. And then she just disappeared for months, only to return home with a hit record, and zero acknowledgements to the original artist. Me. Destiny Lane is a thief.
It still breaks my heart. Every single time I think about it. And there’s no way I’m ever going to let her hurt me like that again.
I pick up my things without another glance in her direction. “You’ll manage on your own, Destiny, just as you’ve always done. It’s been a pleasure.”
With that, I gather my purse, slip out of the seat, and exit the restaurant. There will never be closure with Destiny, and I’ve given up on hoping for it. All I want in life now is to move on and away from the pain and sadness. It’s time to get ready for my next challenge.
Tonight, I see Wolf.
Chapter Four
Wolf
“Hello, Irvine! You all ready to rock this shit?”
They scream. I smile. It’s like someone ignited a fire in me again, and I’m one with the crowd, letting them feed me. I’ve been starving, but all it took to get my metabolism back to normal was knowing that I’ll be seeing her again.
I give Derrick a nod and he’s on it, knocking his sticks together and leading the start of “Joke’s on You.” We kill it. Song after song, we’re at the top of our game. And then it’s time to introduce “Dangerous Heart,” and like they do every night, my eyes search the side stage for Lyric. Of course she’s not here yet. It’s just habit at this point, but waiting to see her again is driving me crazy, and the crazy feelings fuel an impromptu speech.
“Have you ever had your heart broken, Irvine?”
I hold the microphone out and let the crowd scream back at me.
“Me fucking too, Irvine. Me fucking too. So you know what we’re going to do tonight? We’re going to do a little cleansing. I’m going to heal your broken hearts, Irvine. Tonight, we’re going to dedicate this next song to all the heartbreakers out there. For fucking us up. For getting the best of us. For breaking down our walls and then slipping right in there. Like a snake.” I laugh as the crowd roars. “Thanks to them, we know what it’s like to live. To feel real pain.” I lift my fist in the air like I’m making a toast. “Thanks for reminding us why we’re better off alone.”
“Marry me, Wolf!” a girl in the front row screams, and I get another brilliant idea. I’m still riding the adrenaline wave as I scan the crowd.
&
nbsp; “I need a volunteer.”
The loudest fucking roar rains down on me.
“I used to have someone to sing this song to, Irvine, but not anymore. I’m going to need some help with this one.”
The guys are trying to get my attention. I can see Hedge inching closer and looking at me with his “Are you crazy?” eyes, but I don’t care.
The house lights come on, and the screams grow to frantic volumes as arms wave wildly to grab my attention. I’m scanning the front few rows for a victim, without a clue as to what I’m looking for. And then I spot her. A cute brunette with an amazing rack. I could do her. She looks nothing like Lyric, but I could pretend. If Lyric wasn’t on her way back to the tour, I just might consider it.
All I know is that this current of energy running through me has taken days to return, and I want to ride the wave as far as it will take me.
I grin at my possible victim, and her eyes widen in shock. She looks around in question before returning her gaze to mine.
Chuckling, I nod my head in her direction. “Yeah, I’m looking at you, honey. Come on up here.”
This time she doesn’t hesitate. She has to push and pry her way through a couple rows of elbow throws and shoves, which I wish I could help her avoid. Luckily security is able to reach over the blockade and lift my sweet, innocent victim into the press pit before boosting her onto the stage.
“Hi.” I kiss her hand, and I can practically see her heart beating in her chest.
I pull my eyes up to her chocolate-covered ones and notice the strange combination of panic and adoration in her expression. I chuckle lightly, loving the effect I have on her. I’d bet money this girl wouldn’t walk away from me like Lyric did. She’d probably drop everything just to step on my tour bus, be my girlfriend, and hang by my side. Something Lyric wouldn’t even consider.
