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15
PIPER
“What are you wearing?” Hymn asked from her spot on the couch as I walked out of the bathroom.
“My hair is still in the braid from earlier. I’m wearing the high-waisted black shorts and a black crop top.” I described it, knowing I was nothing more than shadows to her. “I only rinsed the sweat off my body in the shower, didn’t touch my face or my hair. Whoever won tonight’s date should be thankful I’m not going to force them to smell my BO.”
Hymn made a noise in her throat. “Whoever your date is will probably be cursing Cannon Cage’s name before the night is over. As pissed as you’ve been since before our set, you aren’t going to be very good company.”
An inelegant snort left me at her candor. My best friend wasn’t wrong, but I would try to turn off what had happened with Cannon for the duration of the second of my twelve dates. “I’ll do my best not to take another person’s stupidity out on someone who was kind enough to shell out so much money to a worthwhile charity.”
“It wasn’t for the charity, and you know it,” Hymn said with an amused twist of her lips. “They did it just for a chance to spend a little time with you, Piper. They could have advertised that the money was going to fund the slaughtering of puppies, and people wouldn’t have even blinked about bidding on one of those dates.”
“Who is slaughtering puppies?” Shaw asked as she walked on to the bus with Grier on her hip.
“No one,” Hymn assured her. “I was just saying Feed the Music could have said that that was what the money was for, and everyone still would have bid on the auction for Piper’s dates.”
“Definitely,” she agreed, placing her daughter on her feet.
“Puppy!” Grier gave a happy yell and walked over to where Nala was sitting at Hymn’s feet. She gave the dog a gentle pat but didn’t try to play with her. Instead, she climbed up on the couch beside Hymn.
“Hi!” she said as she sat as close to Hymn as possible before lifting the remote that was on the couch. The TV powered on, and suddenly, the bus was full of a toddler-friendly Disney show.
Seeing what was on, Shaw rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault that she knows how to work the remote or that she is aware of what channel is her favorite. There is only so much she can do on the bus, and Jagger watches this stuff with her all day long.”
“I’m not judging,” I said with a laugh. “I’m more amazed that she can do all that and isn’t jumping off furniture like she’s a trapeze artist.”
“Yeah, that’s what my mom said when she called earlier and Grier was so calm in the background.” She shrugged and then ran her eyes over me from head to toe. “That outfit is so cute. Your ass looks sexy as hell in those shorts.”
After having one Cage tell me my ass looked fat only an hour before, having another Cage say it looked sexy was what I needed. My spirits lifted a little, I picked up my little card holder that held my ID and credit cards, as well as some cash, and put it in my back pocket. “You’re my favorite Cage, you know that?”
“Aw, yay! I love being the favorite.” Shaw took my hand and guided me into the kitchenette. Once she was satisfied we were out of Grier’s earshot, she grabbed my other hand and lowered her voice. “Tell me the truth, Piper. Is my brother giving you a hard time?”
I considered what to tell her for a moment. No way was I going to tell her or anyone else that I’d been so weak, I’d had quick, dirty sexy with Cannon Cage. Honestly, I wasn’t even all that confident she would believe me. She was fully aware of the hell her brother had put me through, and she wouldn’t believe me even if I did tell her what had happened between us.
But other than his hateful comment about the size of my ass before our set earlier, he hadn’t been his normally awful self. Until he’d spewed that bullshit, I’d even felt a little bad about avoiding him after what had happened on the couch that morning.
I forced a smile and squeezed Shaw’s hands. “Don’t worry about your brother or me. I have nearly two decades of experience in dealing with him, so I think I can handle anything he throws my way.”
Her blue eyes, so like her brother’s, appraised me for a long moment before she released a heavy sigh. “Okay, but if at any time you need me to step in, don’t hesitate to tell me. I’ll happily kick his ass—or make Jags do it.”
A laugh snuck out of me, and I gave her a quick, tight hug. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date to get to.”
“I thought they were supposed to pick you up,” Shaw said with a frown as she moved to sit on the couch beside her daughter. I wasn’t surprised she was sticking around to hang out with Hymn. During previous summer tours when Shaw came with us, the two of them had spent most of their time vegging out on the couch, talking or listening to true crime podcasts.
“It doesn’t matter. For security purposes, Flint gets their contact information emailed to him before each date, so I told him to inform the winner for tonight that I’ll meet them at a club downtown.”
It wasn’t because I wanted away from the bus before Cannon finished his set with Jagger. That was totally not the reason at all. I just wanted to go to a club, unwind, and do a little dancing. My date wouldn’t even have to buy me a drink because I planned on paying for everything. It was the least I could do, considering how much they had donated to Feed the Music for this date. I hadn’t been given the official number, but Mirriam had said it was even more than the bid which had won the first date—my date with Cannon.
“You’re taking a member of security, right?” Hymn asked.
“Yes,” I assured her. “They’re waiting with an Uber right now.”
“Have fun,” Shaw called. “Text if you need us.”
“I won’t be back too late. Love you three!” With a wave, I left the bus and jogged to where the guy who had accompanied me on my last date was waiting with the Uber.
Flint had called ahead to get me on the VIP list, making sure my date would get easy admittance as well. Additionally, it put the club on alert that they needed to boost their security. But it also meant they all would know who I was and I wouldn’t be able to use my fake ID so I could drink.
That was one of the things that sucked about being an underage celebrity. Everyone knew my age, and if I so much as got photographed with a beer or glass of wine in my hand, it would be splashed all over the front page of every tabloid in North America.
I knew from experience, and the worst part was, the first thing the trash magazines would say was that I was following in my father’s footsteps. They would rehash his past addictions and speculate that I would be in rehab before the end of the year. Just because I’d had one glass of champagne at an after party following the Grammys the year I was seventeen. I’d been celebrating winning twice that night, but my accomplishments hadn’t even been mentioned.
Grimacing at the memory, I walked through the club with my muscle at my side. The owner had met us at the door and was escorting us to a roped-off section of the VIP area. People had their phones out, recording and taking pictures as I walked by. I smiled and waved at a few people but didn’t try to stop and speak to anyone. All the pictures and videos would end up on TMZ and YouTube, but I figured it would just be more publicity for Feed the Music.
Once we were inside the roped-off area, I hoped the owner would get back to work and let me unwind a bit before I had to put on a smile and get to know my date a little. Instead, he sat down right beside me. He spread out, sliding his arms along the back of the couch, and crossed his legs.
I’d made the mistake of sitting right at the end of the couch, and he had me backed into the corner with no room to move unless I stood up. His grin took up most of his face as he lowered his head to speak to me over the bass of the music thumping through the club.
Damn it, I hadn’t wanted to cause a scene that would get me plastered all over the media. Especially after the fuckshow the tour had already been through, mere days into it. But this guy obviously thought because he owned the place, he had every right to invade my personal space.
I shot a glance at my security, who was too busy scoping out any potential threat around us to realize I was in more danger with the sleazy club owner than the people staring and taking pictures from a distance.
Sighing, I texted Trinity.
Me: Get the address of the club I’m at from Flint. You might have to clean up a mess.
Trinity: …
I tucked my phone away while those three dots were still floating beside her name. As I did, I made sure my elbow connected with the club owner’s sternum. Hard. I felt his grunt vibrate along my arm.
“Oh,” I cried, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realize you were so close.”
He coughed, the pain still on his face, but he gave me a predatory smile. “No problem, beautiful. I like it rough.”
I threw up a little in my mouth as he licked his lips. He lowered his head more, and I was about to put an end to his bullshit—and, in turn, get a splash for Feed the Music they didn’t want or need.
But as I drew back, ready to punch the asshole in the face, he was suddenly on his feet, a seething rocker holding him by the throat.
Oh shit.
I wasn’t sure what was hotter. The way Cannon was going all Hulk and holding the club owner a few inches off the floor while the guy’s face quickly turned purple from lack of oxygen. Or the feral look in those blue eyes as he looked down at me.
