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Oh yeah. That niggle doubles and then triples. I’ve had a feeling they’ve known more than they let on for a while now. But at this moment, I’d bet money they know it all. At least, Maddox. He has always had this weird way of knowing shit even when he pretends not to, and after his brother dug up shit on Henry, my best friend and Sons of Sin’s bodyguard, in record time, I have no doubt that Maddox knows what color boxer briefs I’m wearing. Which means they’re baiting me to confess it all, but that ain’t happening. Not right now, anyway. It’s not a massive secret I’m trying to keep anymore. I just don’t want to talk about it.
“Guess that’s one thing that can’t get reprogrammed, can it, man? Your need to save everyone.” I change the subject, turning the tables back on him.
He grins and shrugs. “Not save. Just listen.”
I run my hand over my trimmed beard, nodding. “I know, Maddox.” And I do. Once you have their loyalty, Maddox and Ryder will do whatever it takes for you. I’m fortunate enough, despite my massive fuck up, to have that. It doesn’t always seem that way, but their trust and loyalty are not freely given.
“Anyway, down to brass tax,” Ryder says. “We want you to be our A&R VP.”
My mouth drops. Two minutes ago, I was worried I might not have a job, and now… I am not qualified for that. Not by a long shot. But I know better than to argue with them over this kind of thing. I have two options: accept or decline. “Holy shit!” is what they get instead.
“Look, man, you’ve played a huge part in helping us these last few years. I know you don’t have any interest in trying to cut your own album again or even a song, but you’ve got too much damn knowledge and talent, and it’s wasted just being our manager.”
I rub my hand over the back of my neck. The compliment doesn’t land easily. It never does, but it doesn’t mean I’m not thankful. Gratitude and humility burn my cheeks. “You know I stayed on here for years, despite Davis and my ex, because it helped me stay closer to Casey. Or at least I thought it would. I should’ve known they’d send me on the road with every band they had. I never considered advancing. No way Davis was going to let that happen. Then you guys came along and changed everything. And now you’re doing it again. Thank you. Both of you.”
“There’s a catch,” Ryder says.
“We want you to personally work with our very first brand new artist,” Maddox adds.
The look on their faces makes my stomach turn. They’re up to something, but I keep the smile plastered on my face. “Absolutely.”
There’s a tap on the door, and they stroll to it together. My teeth grind at the sound of their chuckles, but that fucking smile stays locked in place.
“I believe you two know each other,” Maddox says with a straight face as they leave the room. “We’ll just leave you to it.”
My eyes lock with hers.
They’re dark with veiled anger despite the smug grin pulling her lips. She’s not happy about this either but for different reasons.
I needed a plan, something to make her want to talk to me—see me. The last several months, she’s avoided me at all costs, and now she’s being forced into it? This will not make my goal easier. It will make her feel cornered.
“Maddox! Ryder! Hell no!” I yell out, wincing internally, knowing it sounds like I don’t want to be near her.
The sound of the slamming door drowns out my booted feet, slamming against the commercial carpeting as I try to catch two assholes before they leave. The closed door does little to muffle the sounds of their obnoxious cackling.
Two hands propped on either side of the door frame, my head thumps against it once, twice, then two more times, hoping I’ll wake up. That this will be a bad dream and their meddling asses didn’t just make my life that much harder.
My lids squeeze tight, knowing my luck doesn’t go that way. I feel like a teenage girl instead of a nearly thirty-six-year-old grown man.
I still hear their cackling on the other side of the door. At least if I’m a teenage girl, I’m in good company. Those two will land me in an early grave, and I raised an actual teenage girl.
And dated one. If you can call what we did dating or what I’m currently doing with my life surviving, I’m not convinced it is.
“I swear I didn’t ask for this,” I tell her, my back still turned and head hung low. I need her to believe I had no part in this, even if just being in the same room with her has made it easier to breathe. “I knew nothing about this.”
“Your reaction told me as much.” Her voice, cool and detached, makes my teeth grind because I know I’m already screwing this up. Also, because I want to shake her.
This is the first time she’s spoken to me in months, and she sounds like we’re only acquaintances. I can’t take all the blame—even if I do—when she refuses my calls and ignores my texts. It’s impossible to explain or apologize when she won’t listen to me, shutting me out as if I never existed.
I know I deserve her doubt, and an apology won’t fix all my mistakes, but I would rather her anger than for her to pretend she’s unaffected or pretend we were nothing.
As I roll my shoulders and turn around, my nostrils flare with a shuddering breath.
And it blows out with an audible whoosh.
Goddamn, she always takes my breath away.
All I want to do is throw her over my shoulder, take her back to my apartment, and keep her there until she listens. If I thought that would work, I would, but this girl… she would light the apartment on fire and force me to let her go.
