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Dylan got back to the penthouse, immediately going for a few shots of whiskey to calm his nerves. He squeezed the bottle as he gazed out the tall window, remembering when they had made love by it, when she had embraced his every sharp edge.
Was that real? Was she working with Slick all along?
“Calm down, man,” Dylan whispered to himself.
He knew that was paranoia talking. But he had to get to the bottom of it before things got worse. Would she dump him to continue hiding her secret or keep it to herself? Dylan wanted to ask her about it straight up. But then he would have to admit that he was following her. That would lead to a strain in trust, and zero questions would be answered.
He knocked back the third shot, moving down his throat like lava, and the next three were back-to-back. The streetlights became blurry rather quickly, and he knew he had to stop and lay down for a minute before he got drunk in the afternoon.
He lay down on his bed after drawing the curtains. He curled up into the fetal position, trying to breathe deeply, just as Rose had taught him. Everything in his life felt the touch of her glimmer. Even the bed, which felt despairingly empty without her body warming it.
Dylan would leave her alone for the day and try to sleep off what he had seen. If he wanted the relationship to go on, and if he wanted to eventually tell her that she was his fated mate, he had to ask her what the hell was up with Slick.
The sight of the man made him feel homicidal. It also brought up many painful memories of Jazzy, a joyous, lovely woman who fell under the spell of an egotistical nutcase.
Dylan had gone to the funeral and had worn his sunglasses the entire time. Even when he greeted her parents, he kept them on, feeling physically sick at the sight of their grief-filled eyes. He stayed at the wake for Jazzy as long as he could, then rushed out the back door and vomited in the parking lot.
The swirling sensation in his stomach took him back to that day. He rolled onto his back, spotting himself in the mirror. Rose had found it sexy, so he left it that way instead of moving back the chandelier.
He thought he might be sick again.
NINETEEN
ROSE
She stared at the contract, trying to mull her mind over what she was reading. The contract was complete shit, siding everything in favor of Slick. She kept reading over and over how she had to do what Slick wanted. She had to play where Slick wanted her to play. She pretty much would turn into Slick's bitch.
Her blood ran cold, and she felt sick. How the hell did it even get to this part?
"Are you done reading?" Slick asked for the fifth time, each time sounding more agitated. Rose swallowed, her eyes going over different details of the agreement.
Ninety-eight percent of the profit goes to Slick.
The singers will obey each order given.
The singer will relinquish all other agreements as this is their primary contract.
Her mind was swimming. There was nothing in it for her, and she could see the little loopholes that were built into this contract. Slick could do whatever he wanted to her, and she couldn't stop him. He could force her into anything, and there was nothing she could do. That thought made her body go cold.
"This is shit," Rose stated, looking up at him. She scowled. "Complete fucking bullshit."
Slick narrowed his eyes, and his cigarette froze midway. She felt the aura change into something dangerous. "I'd watch what you say, Rose. Don't have many choices here, do you?"
Rose looked away, taking a look around the room. She'd agreed to meet up at one of his small stores in the mall. There was no way Rose was going to his office to meet with him. The room was dark, and it smelled gross, but she preferred this with people outside the door.
Rose swallowed, looking back toward Slick. It was true. She was stuck in a corner. But there was a difference between it just being her and another when it involved other people. She could never involve the girls in whatever was happening here.
Slick had shit on her, and she hoped it was just her. She didn't want the girls to get involved in this disaster and somehow lose something they held dear.
So be it if she had to leave the band to save them. But she certainly wasn't agreeing to anything without fighting her ass off. She knew that much.
"I don't need to watch what I'm saying," Rose growled. "I may not have many choices, but I sure as hell know this is a shitty one that only an idiot would take."
Slick smirked, chuckling to himself. "Or maybe someone that was stupid enough to think she could live two lives without thinking they might collide and she might lose it all. Sounds like someone wasn't thinking properly when she made her life decisions."
His words sent a shiver down Rose's spine, and she hated how he smirked. He leaned forward, his breath too close, and she wanted to gag. He placed his hands down, pushing the contract closer to her. "I'd think about it a second longer, love. You don't want to lose everything, do you?"
Rose had had enough. She was done listening to him and sick of being pushed around like someone without a mind. She had one, and she was going to use it.
