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Maybe I should call my sponsor; he may have some ideas that would help with the situation. Hell, he may even call the label and tell them how bad of an idea this is and that Sky needs to go. It’d be a long shot, but I think it’s worth a try.
The door to the garden slams open at the same time I hear a familiar grunt of Gunner stomping his way toward us. I guess both of them decided to join me today. If this was about to become a normal thing, they were going to need to join my breathing exercises. There was no way I was going to be able to find some peace with babysitters and party crashers.
“That bad?’ I question through closed eyes.
“Worse,” he answers, taking a seat behind me next to Bas.
“How worse?” I hear Bas asking in a guarded tone. We all knew how bad this situation was going to be. If we didn’t stick together one of us could wind up dead next.
“The label isn’t budging. She who shall not be named is here to stay. It’s the only person they trust to blend in and handle the situation. I tried to tell them, to reason with them, how bad the situation was, but they wouldn’t hear it.” His tone was full of anger. I knew, at this rate, he would find himself in the gym for a good long workout, and then he’d probably take off looking for a fight to help him relieve some stress. The bastard just loves taking a beating and giving one in return.
“They asked if I wanted to be responsible for the next guitarist's death or not.”
That’s when I open my eyes and turn to look at him. “What the fuck does that mean?” I try to wrap my head around the comment, but it makes no sense. Hell, none of this situation makes any sense. None of us even knew we had a stalker until this morning. Does that mean we were somehow responsible for Ezra’s death? What the hell has our label been hiding from us?
“No idea,” Gunner answers in a gruff tone. “We need to get to the bottom of all of this—and sooner rather than later.“
“No shit,” I chuckle darkly.
“We can’t trust anyone,” Sebastian demands. Already I can see the wheels turning in his mind. He’s always been the smartest out of all of us, outside of maybe Sky. With him, there’s no way we won’t find out the truth. “Don’t tell anyone we are looking into this. Creed, do you think you can get your hands on all personnel files for the record company, especially those on our team closest to us? We can’t rule anyone out until we see definitive proof they are innocent.”
“Yeah,” I nod. “It shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll make a few phone calls when we get back to our room.”
“Perfect,” he answers. “Gunner, I need you to call in some favors. Do you know anyone who can be paid off to provide some extra hidden security?”
“That’s going to be a hefty penny, and maybe a favor or two owed, but yeah I can get us a couple of guys,” he adds through a guarded expression. His eyes are all that give away how much he doesn’t want to do what he was asked, but he will anyway because he knows Sebastian wouldn’t ask if we didn’t need it.
“Whatever it is, we pay it together, don’t worry,” Sebastian says, clasping his shoulder in a small gesture of comfort. “Is it safe to go back to the room?”
“Alexandra thought it best if they all had their own suite. They are on the same floor, but it’s going to have to be good enough for today. Tomorrow will be a whole different problem. She pretty much said that practice will be every day until the label feels we are ready to go back on tour,” he explains, exhaling a deep breath.
“Fine, but I’m taking one day to be free of her and adjust. Anything is better than being stuck with her immediately after, basically, being told we don’t have a choice if we want to keep our contract. After what she did to us, I can’t believe the record label thought this was a good idea and expected us to be okay with it. I guess it doesn’t matter, but I’m still gonna be mad about it.”
Bas shrugs, accepting our fate for what it is. “We have the day to do everything that’s needed, and we can deal with the rest tomorrow.”
Bullshit.
Chapter Four
To say walking into that hotel room was the scariest thing I’ve done in my life would be an understatement. Thinking back on the event, I remember feeling every single part of me want to flee, to turn around and run as far and as fast as I could to get away from the three men I loved unconditionally. I knew seeing them again wouldn’t go over well.
They hate my guts, and I can’t blame them for it. Hell, I hate myself for what I did, but, given the choice, I would do it all again. No amount of apologies or explanations will ever get them to listen to me, though. They made up their minds a long time ago, and that was going to be the end of it. The memory was still fresh in my mind, and I couldn’t stop replaying it.
When Rome, Valentina, and I arrive at the hotel, Alexandra, the band manager, tells me that I am heading straight to the boys' suite to meet them, and I almost have a panic attack. The whole ride up the elevator, I just focus on my breathing, controlling it the best I can, which isn’t exactly a lot considering it feels like my heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest, thumping so hard, it physically hurts the entire ride up. The anxiety inside of me is balled so tight that I would probably jump, scream, and run, in that order, if anything takes me by the slightest surprise. As we walk to their room, she tells us to wait outside the door and she will come to get us after she makes sure they are awake and ready to talk.
“Are you ready?” Valentina questioned, her eyes searching me for something, but I’m not sure what.
“No,” I chuckle darkly, swallowing. “I will never be ready to face those men again.” I clench and unclench my fists, willing myself to calm down and just breathe.
God, what I wouldn’t give to have my hands on a computer keyboard right now.
The familiar sounds of the keys clacking would help calm my mind as I watch all the code flying across my screens. It’s something I’m familiar with, something I understand, even when my mind is in distress. That’s what I need right now because I thought I had left the years of Damned Embers behind me. Hell, only at the darkest times of night do I even pick up my guitar and strum a few cords. I only resort to playing when my mind won’t quiet down long enough for me to sleep. It’s rare but it happens, and thankfully my skill hasn’t disappeared.
“We can turn around right now and walk away,” Rome suggested as we waited. His idea held merit. It was the same thought I had already considered multiple times since we left Rockport.
Sighing, I give the answer I don’t want to give. “No, we need to do this. Just because I left to protect them and gave this life up doesn’t mean that I want to continue to leave them to be at risk. They have no idea what they're facing.”
“Sky,” Rome shakes his head. “You say the word and we pull the plug. Knox would fully support us on this. You know what you mean to those men. You are their family.”
