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"I'm going to kill him," Gideon growls, pacing holes in the carpet in the lobby.
"Not if I fucking kill him first," Kane growls down the line. "He can't just fucking decide he's not fired. It doesn't work that way."
"He seems to think it does," I mumble, dropping my head into my hands.
"What did he say exactly, Kenna?" Kane demands to know.
"He said if I want to fire him, I can take him to court because breaking the contract is going to cost more than I can afford to pay."
"I read through every line of your contract with him," Kane says. "He's full of shit."
"Unless he's not."
I turn to look at Gideon.
"You're both assuming he was talking financially, but he never said it would cost her money. He just said it would cost more than she could afford to pay. From where I'm sitting, that leaves a whole lot up to interpretation."
"Jesus Christ," Kane growls. "You think he'll try to ruin her?"
"It's one interpretation."
"He could try to have the deal pulled."
"That's why he was here," I whisper. "He said the label was mad that I pulled you up on stage and that if I wanted to keep the contract, I better not do it again."
"Fuck him," Gideon growls. "Do you have a contact at the label?"
"Yes. Well, sort of. I have a whole list of numbers and people I can call if I need anything, but I haven't really had to use any of them. They usually run everything through John since he's my manager."
I feel like an idiot for letting that happen, but you can only keep so many irons in the fire at once. Eventually you have to trust someone to carry some of the load, or you start dropping things. I trusted John. He's been in this business for a long time. I guess the saying is true, though. No business keeps its secrets better than show business. Because I never even heard any whispers that he's a backstabbing jerk. But if he's doing it to me, he's done it before. A leopard doesn't change his spots. An a zebra doesn't grow claws.
Gideon jerks his head in a nod.
"What am I going to do?" I ask, though I'm not sure if I'm talking to them, to myself, or to the universe in general.
"I'll go through the contract again," Kane says. "I'll go through the contract with the label again too. They can't just pull it just because you brought someone on stage and sang a song, Kenna. But I'll make sure we're prepared in case they try."
"Thank you," I whisper.
"We're going to figure this out," Gideon promises, kneeling in front of me, He slips his hands into mine, bringing them to his lips. "I swear to you, Sparrow. That prick isn't taking a goddamn thing from you. He'll have to pry my boot out of his intestines and dislodge my fist from his throat before I allow that to happen. Everything you've earned, you're keeping."
He's right. I'm not letting him take anything from me. He can throw his fit and have a tantrum because I'm not ever going to sleep with him, and I don't want someone working for me who thinks it's okay to speak to me the way he did today. But he doesn't get to take anything from me.
I've worked for everything I have. I've spent eight years working for it. John showed up at the eleventh hour. He doesn't get to claim credit for the last eight years. And he doesn't get to take anything, not even a freaking paperclip.
"Okay." I exhale a breath, nodding. "So we fight then."
"Yeah," Gideon growls. "We fight like hell."
Chapter Nine
Gideon
The next three weeks are some of the best and worst of my fucking life. Kenna has no shows, but she's in the studio every day. We spend most evenings at her place or sneaking away to mine.
John doesn't show his fucking face. I'm guessing the fact that Kane hunted him down like a dirty dog and threatened to rip his dick off and feed it to him might have something to do with that. But I don't mention it to Kenna. She has enough to worry about.
The label is more than happy to work with her directly when we contact them. In fact, I get the impression that they prefer it. That eases a little of the worries plaguing her mind, but there are a thousand more still battling for her attention.
