Page 90 of Chasin’s Surrender

“Yeah, I’m done. Total waste of time.”

Chasin started to move us when Bent spoke. “You’re gonna regret this, Vivi. After this bullshit, you’ll never—”

“Oh, God, really?” Bobby barked a laugh. “You sound like a bad movie villain. You got nothing, Bent. You’re nothin’. You got no clout, no one gives a shit what a washed-up asshole has to say. You need Vivi, not the other way around. One damn song, you wrote one song with her that went anywhere, and that benefitted you way more than it did her. Spare us all from your drama. Not a single person in this room cares.”

“Go fuck yourself. Vivi’s biggest problem has always been you. She lost opportunities because no one wants to work with you. She could’ve—”

Again Bobby interrupted him, “She could’ve been bigger than the biggest name in country music? She could’ve, really? Do you listen to yourself? Why’d you come all the way to Maryland to beg her to work with you?”

“Come on, Evie, let’s go.” Chasin was obviously done, or rather, he was done with me being in the same room as Bent.

“Evie?” Bent took a step toward us.

And suddenly I could no longer see Bent because I was staring at the back of Chasin’s t-shirt.

“I’m gonna say this one time, so listen the fuck up. You come near Genevieve, I’ll break your neck. Straight up, no joke, I will snap your fuckin’ neck. You think about fucking with Bobby, you’ll get the same. Genevieve’s made it clear she will not be working with you. Not now and not in the future. I suggest you lose her number and move on. And I mean that as in, do not ever fucking call her again.”

Bent puffed himself up. “Yeah, is that what you suggest? Well, I suggest you fuck off. We’ll see who she’s calling after you fuck up her career and she’s on her knees, pleading with me to help her fix it.”

On her knees? Was he fucking crazy? Why, yes, he was certifiably insane.

“You’re insane,” Bobby voiced my thoughts. “Totally bat shit, around-the-bend, cray-cray.”

“I think I made myself clear,” Chasin said and Alec opened the door for us as we approached.

The second Bobby, Chasin, and I cleared the threshold, I heard the door slam, locking Bent in the conference room with three pissed-off Gemini Group men.

“Are we gonna need bail money?” I asked.

“No, baby.” Chasin’s lip twitched.

“No because they won’t get caught therefore they won’t need us to bail them out? Or no because they’re not gonna rough him up?”

“No because even if they did fuck him up, which they won’t do unless he makes a direct threat against you, in which case all bets are off, they wouldn’t get caught.”

“I’m sorry this was a huge pain in the ass.”

“One step closer, Evie. One step closer.”

25

It had been hours and Chasin was red-hot mad. No, he was angrier, and that was saying something since it had taken every ounce of control he possessed to not beat the fuck out of Bent Bromley. The only reason he hadn’t was because they’d needed Bent to dig himself a hole, and a hole he had dug. The douchebag wasn’t very smart and had played right into their hands.

Chasin’s gut was screaming they’d found Genevieve’s stalker. The problem was, they had no evidence. At the very least, they needed a print to run against the one they had. Then the police could go after DNA. In the meantime, Chasin needed to cool down and wait, be vigilant, and keep Evie safe.

And on top of an already infuriating afternoon, there was a media shitstorm surrounding Genevieve’s stalker. Bobby was at the dining room table, her cell to her ear, laptop open, and if the way she was pounding on the keyboard was any indication, she was beyond pissed, too.

Genevieve had held it together during the car ride home, but as soon as she entered the house, she excused herself to go play her guitar. This would’ve concerned Chasin if she hadn’t given him a lip touch and explained she was fine, but needed some time to sort her head and playing music was how she did it.

Chasin had been pacing and waiting for Nixon, and when his cell finally rang, he fumbled in impatience to answer it.

“What’d you find?” Chasin greeted.

“Guy’s a total dick,” Nix returned.

There was nothing to say about Nix’s observation so he remained silent and waited.

“Jameson followed him. He’s staying at the Holiday Inn. McKenna’s working on finding his reservation now.” Translation: Micky’s hacking into the Holiday Inn computer. “After that, she’ll look into the hotels and bed and breakfasts in the area and see if he’s moved around. Car’s a rental. And there’s no airline ticket in his name so we know he drove here or he flew private.”