How can I even think about myself when everything is crumbling around us? The life I’ve been working so hard for is teetering on the edge of a cliff. We have to make plans, work on whatever nightmare the press is cooking up, then we need to—
“Yes, you.” Izzy’s tone softens slightly, cutting through my panic. “Your health and well-being are paramount. We can’t let that asshole’s games pull you under. We have a strong case against him on the copyright, and you’ll pull through this stronger than ever. I have faith in you, Raina. Let’s not call defeat before you’ve even started the race.”
I take a deep, painful breath and nod my head.Okay. But what if it’s already too late? The thought clings to me like a shadow. Anxiety seems to be a constant companion since I’ve woken up, and my coping mechanisms aren’t all that successful. Each inhale to calm myself feels like dragging jagged shards of glass down my throat. I cast a fleeting glance at the floor, feeling the roughness of reality digging into me.
I might desperately want to move past the attack, but the reminder isn’t willing to let me go so easily.
“We’ll figure this out together,” Nash interjects, his voice steady, reassuring. His words wrap around me like a safety net,but doubt gnaws at the edges of my mind. Dickless has proven he won’t go easily into the night.
“Raina,” Blake’s quiet voice cuts through my thoughts. He looks at me, those deep-set eyes reflecting his uncertainty. “You have us. We’re in this together.” There’s sincerity in his gaze, a flicker of hope that feels fragile yet potent. It nudges something within me—a spark of resilience.
“Together,” I croak, testing the word as if it could hold the weight of our fears. For a moment, I forget about Dickless, about the industry that wants to control me, and instead focus on the warmth they offer me.
“Let’s take it one step at a time,” Izzy says, her authority wrapping around us like a cloak against the storm outside. “We’ll handle this. I promise.”
I nod, swallowing hard as I push the weight of doubt aside. Maybe we can turn this chaos into something stronger. The thought ignites a flicker of determination inside me. As long as we’re united, perhaps we stand a chance.
“Now, Mr. Lexington mentioned a detective wanting to speak to you. I’d like to be here for that, and hopefully afterward we can clear up the temporary restraining order against Darius. Until then, he can’t come anywhere near Raina.” A cold dread settles in my chest at her words, spreading outward until even my fingertips feel numb. I glance at my dark British hero on the screen, his expression unreadable yet tense, a flicker of annoyance betraying the calm in his eyes. It’s unsettling.
Nash scowls and crosses his arms. “Can’t we ignore it? I doubt Raina will be calling the pigs to enforce it.”
Izzy nods her head like she’s thought of that. “I don’t think we should risk it. Mr. Lexington has proven he wants to pin Darius as the one responsible, and I don’t trust him to not cause more problems. But we also need to consider anyone else whosees him walk in the building thinking they are protecting Raina when they know nothing of what’s going on.”
Fuck. Me. I hate constantly being followed by paparazzi, reporters, and fans.
“It’s okay,” Dare says. “I’d rather wait a few days than risk it.” He remains poised, but I see it—the slight tightening of his jaw, the way his fingers tap against his thigh. A battle rages beneath that charming facade, and a sense of foreboding creeps into the corners of my mind. Is he angry at us or at the situation?
“The next order of business,” Izzy continues, not letting an awkwardness settle over us. “The tour is officially canceled.”
A mix of emotions slams into me. Guilt over all the disappointed fans. Relief over knowing I won’t have to see Dickless or his doting Carmen. Regret that I won’t get to experience everything a tour has to offer with my guys. They worked so hard to get here to have it stolen out from under their feet.
But if I’m honest with myself, there’s no freaking possibility that I could finish the tour. Not with the ordered rest and the voice rehab looming over my head. If I’m not careful, if I rush the rehab, I’ll ruin any chance I have of making sure my voice comes out of this unscathed.
“What does this mean for the contracts we signed?” Blake asks.
I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. Memories of all the consequences I’ve had forced on me for every perceived contract slight press into me. It’s how we ended up with so many shows in the first place. They wanted me to make up my missed showswith interest.
This time is different, I know it is—I have Izzy and my lawyers to fight for my best interests—but it doesn’t stop the fear from gripping me in an iron fist.
“I don’t have an answer to that,” Izzy says, her features remaining steady, not a hint of worry in them. “But I’m working on it. I’ll get back to you when I do. I will say some of it depends on Raina’s recovery.”
“Listen up, guys,” an all too familiar voice says, making my attention snap to the phone as tears gather in my eyes. I almost convinced myself I imagined him coming back. My ex-best friend appears on the phone screen, pushing Darius aside.
My heart thuds painfully in my chest staring at my stunning green-eyed lead guitarist. I want to reach through the phone and grasp Tris to my chest like he’s a teddy bear. Why the fuck isn’t he here right now?
Suddenly, I want to fucking sob. I’m too vulnerable for this shit.
As if he can read every thought crossing my mind, Tristan frowns for a second before continuing with what he wanted to say. “This cancellation isn’t a setback; it’s an opportunity for you to strategize. Everything is up in the air, and no matter what comes back about the contracts, this is a chance to figure out exactly what you want to do with the future. And once that’s figured out, it gives Izzy a target point to hit.”
For a moment, I freeze on his use ofyouinstead ofus. He didn’t include himself. Then, the rest of his words come rushing in, bolstering me in hope. It seems to have reached everyone in the room. The darkness threatening to suffocate me seems not so oppressive.
Tristan has always had that skill. Of being able to repackage a shitty situation and turn it into something palatable. He’s such a strong leader when he isn’t being a fucking asshole.
“He’s right,” Keaton admits. “We can figure out what to do with the contracts when we have an answer. But we can figure out what we want our future to look like in the meantime. That future doesn’t have to start right away.”
“Knowing what you all want gives me a direction to steer things toward, and offers you something to look forward to, to fight for.” Izzy nods her head, giving her full support.
“We’ll talk about it and get back to you,” Blake offers. We all know this will take some time to figure out. Hell, we don’t even know if I’ll be able to sing again. They could be figuring out a future that doesn’t even involve me.
