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“Okay,” I say, climbing back into the car, and we head to the hospital, following behind the ambulance.
KieranslamstheTahoedoor, running a hand down his face. Glaring up at my father's office window, he shakes his head and shrugs at me. Maybe that's a good sign that the old bastard is finally loosening the leash of our collars. Pfft. Fat fucking chance. Nigel Montgomery has a knack for being in control. If it isn't his idea, then it's not possible.
Kieran doesn't wait for me, opting to head into the house with his head hung low and his hands in his jeans.
The weekend plays on repeat in my mind. I promised myself the moment we left Central City that I would let whatever happens—happen. It didn't take a genius to know what we would do to pass the time the moment we stepped into a secluded lake house.
My time with River was highly eye-opening and fucking hot. Being deep inside her pussy and feeling the effect I had on her—twice over was invigorating. Swallowing hard, I squeeze my eyes shut, willing my damn dick to go back down before I step out and deal with my father. Oh, yeah. That did it.
Just as my hand attempts to open the door, my phone vibrates in my pocket repeatedly. Scrunching my brows, I dig it out of my pocket. Who the hell calls people these days? Especially so late in the evening? Scammers, that's who. Shit. Looking at the number on the screen, it screams scam call. Out of the area, area code. Long number. I roll my eyes, expecting a robot when I answer the phone.
"Yeah?" I ask, blowing out a breath. "Listen, if this is a robot scammer.."
A chuckle greets my ears. "Uh, nah, Man. Not a scammer, I promise. You'll want to hear this. Is this, by chance, Asher Montgomery, Ashton Radcliffe, Kieran Knight, or Callum Rose? This was the phone number we had on the application for the submission."
Number on the submission? Jesus. Fuck. My fingers tighten around the phone in fear of dropping it as my palms dampen. My heart beats out of my damn chest and falls onto the dash. All the blood in my body swishes in my ears, almost drowning out the voice on the other end.
"Uh, yeah. This is Asher," I say, swallowing hard.
My back stiffens at attention when I bring the phone off my ear and stare at the number again. Only this time, the location of the call sits under the number—East Point Bluff, California. California. Fucking, California. Gasping for breath, I bring the phone back to my ear just in time.
"Fucking awesome, man. I was looking at your submission again for the thousandth time, and I'm blown away. Do you know how many applications we've gone through trying to find such a unique sound? Thousands. And you guys are fucking it," he says with so much excitement that goosebumps break out my arms.
My entire body locks up. Butterflies blossom in my churning gut, threatening to send my dinner up. Is this happening? Is this a fucking joke at my expense? Deep breaths, Asher. Deep fucking breaths.
"You…you what? Wait? Is this…"
"Hey, man, I'm Seger West. I'm calling on behalf of West Records. We are pouring through the submissions this week, and I gotta say, Whispered Words has the shit we're looking for. Fuck. You guys were…"
"Not professional, dude. You can't say fuck to potential winners. You'll scare them away with your Seger attitude," another voice says in the background with a scoff.
"Fuck off, Elf Ears," Seger grumbles, returning to the phone. "Sorry, man. My brother is…"
"Husband-in-law! I swear you're ashamed of me. It's been how many years now?"
"Shut the fuck up, Elf Ears!" another person growls in the background. "He's in the middle of a phone call. You're worse than Dash when he wants a fucking cookie. Jesus. I have enough kids to wrangle. I don't need you, too."
Seger sighs heavily, muttering a few colorful words into the phone, and everything dies down behind him.
"Jesus. Sorry. My brothers are helping me with this whole event," Seger says through a tired breath. "Anyway, you'll get something in the mail with a formal invitation today. We've overnighted everything. But we just wanted to talk to the guys behind the music. Your fans are incredible, too, and your sound… I can't wait to hear you live," he gushes in a low voice.
"Holy…fuck," I gasp out. "You're serious? You're fucking serious! We got…we got in? We fucking made it?" I ramble into the phone as my thoughts catch up to the situation.
"Yeah, man. You guys are the shit! Once you read the letter, it'll have all the information you need. We'll see you guys in a few weeks!"
"Holy shit. Thanks, man! Thanks for taking a chance on us! Wait till I tell the guys they'll be…" I trail off as haunting words play on repeat in my mind.
"We'll wait for you, River!"
"We can play in Chicago! No problem!"
"There will be a next time."
After exchanging goodbyes, I hang up the phone, slowly dropping it into my lap. Slumping in the seat, I lick my lips. How the fuck am I going to get them to California if they're more concerned with staying with River than playing in the band. This is our fucking band—our only chance to make it in the big leagues. Tours. Buses. Recording studios. Screaming fans. They're all within grasp, handed to us on a silver platter for the taking. And here they are, convinced they'd wait for her.
Like fuck.
I will not let my brothers wake up regretting their life choices one day. No matter the consequences. No matter how much I'll hate myself and drown in my guilt, we're going to California. No. Matter. What. With or without River West.
