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ONE
Kale
“If you’re late, there isn’t anything in the world who can save your ass from me.”
I knew better than to roll my eyes, even if Emmie Armstrong couldn’t see me through the phone. The ink wasn’t even dry on the contract I had signed with my four other bandmates in Tainted Knights, and Emmie was already ruling our lives. It was a must-have evil, because she was already doing some kickass things for the band. Still, she scared the hell out of me.
“Yes, ma’am.” I wasn’t sure if she was old enough to be called “ma’am” or not, but my grandmother would smack me on the back of the head from her grave if I didn’t. Grandma June would have liked Emmie; I was sure of that, if nothing else.
“What time will you be there, Kale?”
I blew out a frustrated breath. She treated me like I was five, not twenty-two. “Nine in the morning.”
“Right. And where will you be?”
“Fifth floor of your office building,” I repeated the address she had told me. “For a photo shoot.”
“Good. See you then.” She hung up, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
If someone had asked me eighteen months ago if I would jump at the chance of having Emmie Armstrong—the Emmie Armstrong—as our manager, I would have said “fuck yeah.” Now, after having seen her at work more than once, I wasn’t sure how the Demon’s Wings guys had lasted so long with her breaking their balls for so many years. She had managed some of the biggest names in recent rock history. Legends. Gods. Bands that had made their way to the top of the business with the help of a little redhead who I still wasn’t sure was an angel or the anti-Christ.
Shaking my head at the thought, I tossed my phone on the bed beside me and pulled one of the pillows over my face. When I’d first gotten to California I had to get a second job to go along with our weekly gig at First Bass just to make rent and eat. As soon as that contract was up, we had signed the one with Emmie, and she had gotten us a killer deal with a record label that had made all that extra work worth every minute. My cut of the deal was enough that I could buy my own place, a new car, and still have plenty left over to invest and live comfortably for years.
That same day, I’d quit my job and bought my first new car. There was no use in buying a house yet, because we had a tour to get through first. Tainted Knights’ first tour started in a week, but first we had a photo shoot to do for all the publicity that went with it. Pictures for posters, T-shirts, and other merchandise. Our faces plastered everywhere as we toured the country for nine weeks. I had never thought about that side of the business. My head had only been on playing the drums and having fun. I probably should have. If we hadn’t had Emmie to help us, we would have all fallen on our faces in the rocker industry.
It still wasn’t going to be easy. Emmie had preached that repeatedly, especially with this upcoming tour. Nine weeks. Sixty-three days. Fifty-six shows. She said it sounded like a headache to her, but it sounded like heaven to me. From the time I was four and had picked up my first pair of drumsticks, I’d known what I wanted to do with my life. It wasn’t just my passion; music was a part of my soul. I had worked damn hard to get where I was, and I wasn’t going to screw that up now.
What made it even better was that Emmie wasn’t going with us. A little thing, maybe, but I had been so glad to find out she wasn’t going that I’d actually jumped up and down on the living room couch. She had an entire staff that could do that for her, and she was entrusting her newest band to one of them.
I had met Travis Braxton a few times. He seemed like a good guy, a little uptight maybe, but nice enough. Emmie said he was one of her best, and I expected that he was if he met her strict standards.
Pushing the pillow off my face, I glanced at the clock beside my bed and groaned. I had to get up in eight hours to be on time. Otherwise, Emmie would put some voodoo curse on me, I was sure.
Setting the alarm, I turned off the light and tried to sleep.
I was up before the alarm went off the next morning. It wasn’t that I was anxious to get the day over with, but that I was excited to drive my car. In the week that I’d had it, I had found every opportunity to drive the ZO6. For a boy who had grown up wearing hand-me-downs and shoes with holes in them, walking into a car dealership and driving off with a brand-new corvette that was paid for was a dream come true.
If only my momma could see me now.
Thinking of my mom had some of the pleasure of the drive evaporating. Maybe if I’d had the money I had now, my mother would still be alive. Maybe. There were so many maybes and what-ifs that it drove me crazy. Knowing that she would have been proud of me, I tried to put the bad memories in the back of my mind and focus on the good ones.
I found a parking spot across the street from Emmie’s office and quickly made my way inside. I was twenty minutes early, something I’d planned to show her so she could see I could be trusted to show up when expected. That didn’t mean the others would be on time, though.
There was a wait for the elevators. Emmie and her two partners owned four out of the thirty floor building. One was used for office space, while another was a recording studio where we had worked with Shane Stevenson to record a few demos that had gotten us noticed by the record label we’d just signed with. Since I hadn’t been to the other two floors, I had no idea what was there, but I was about to find out since I was heading to one of them now.
“She bitch at you, too?”
I turned at the sound of Sin’s voice and grinned.
He looked half-hungover with his hair rumbled, clothes wrinkled, and I suspected bloodshot eyes behind his sunglasses. Sin hadn’t gone out and bought the things he had always hoped to own one day. Instead, he’d been drinking and partying his way through his cut of our deal.
“I would
n’t say that to her face, but yeah.” I stepped back as the elevators opened and about ten people filed out.
Sin and I both got on just as Cash walked into the building.
“Hold the elevator, fuckers.”
Knowing Sin wouldn’t hold the door for a little old lady, let alone Cash, I put my hand on the elevator door to keep it from shutting. Cash jogged to catch up, and once he was inside, I released the door.
There wasn’t much room to move. Sin didn’t seem to care as he used the wall to hold himself up on the short ride. Cash was basically plastered against some guy in a suit and a middle-aged woman in a prim dress.
I snorted as the woman hesitantly touched Cash’s chest, almost like she was entranced by the sight of a guy in an old T-shirt with hard muscles. He shot me a look that begged for help, but I couldn’t do more than laugh at his dilemma. He had asked me to hold the door, so it was his own fault if he got molested because of it.
The fifth floor was the first stop, and Cash actually let out a relieved breath as the three of us stepped off the elevator.
“Did she lick you?” Sin asked with a rare grin as we headed for the desk and the security guard sitting behind it.
Cash grunted. “Don’t. Just don’t.”
Sin shot me a glance, and we both burst out laughing as we approached the menacing looking guard. Emmie was almost anal about her security, not that I could blame her, but the guys she hired were beasts. They made the time I spent at the gym look like nothing. This man looked the three of us over, not showing so much as a flick of an eyelash that he was actually human and not a robot.
“Names?” he asked in a tone that came out like a bored growl.
Sin thrust his hands into his jeans pockets, and we both looked at Cash. Of the three of us, Cash was the diplomatic one.
“I’m Cash Graves. This is Tate Sinclair and Kale Conway. We have an appointment with Emmie and her PR group.”
The guard eyed the three of us up and down for a long minute before consulting the clipboard in front of him. It couldn’t have been the way we looked that made him question who we were. People came and went from her floors dressed in both designer clothes and raggedy jeans and T-shirts, and it was usually the ones who looked more like hobos who were multimillion dollar millionaires. I figured this guy was just being a prick and playing with us as he took his sweet-ass time giving us the go-ahead.
“Yeah, sure. Go on in,” the guard finally growled.
Cash gave him a tight smile and grabbed Sin by the arm, pushing him in front of him before the smartass could say anything.
Nodding at the guard, I followed my bandmates as Cash opened the glass door to Emmie’s public relations floor. As soon as we stepped through, it seemed like complete chaos had descended on the place.
“Why are we doing this again?” I heard Gray grumbling seconds before I spotted him standing by a table at the back of the first room we had just entered. The table was loaded down with breakfast pastries and coffee, neither of which he was touching.
Jace lifted a mug of coffee, taking a sip without bothering to answer.
Tainted Knights’ frontrunner ignoring the guitarist wasn’t something new to any of us. Jace and Gray barely tolerated each other for two reasons and two reasons only. For the good of the band, and to keep Jace’s sister Kassa happy. It was enough, I reasoned, considering those two were the reason we had gotten so far so quickly with Tainted Knights.
It was Kassa who answered for her brother. “Because Emmie said you have to,” she told him with a pat on the arm.
Gray’s entire body seemed to tense at her touch, confusing not only me but Cash, who shot me questioning look. Something was definitely up with the muscle-headed guitarist.
“So, you’re gonna suck it up and do it.”
