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Layla looks confused, and Lenny bites her lip as she tries to explain. “I saw one of the women dancing in the cage, and it was like she didn’t see anything else. I love performing, having people connect with my words, but there’s a fear now when I think about doing it. So Bear suggested singing in the cage, where no one could touch me,” she tells us.
Layla nods. “That’s actually really smart,” she muses. “An intimate concert to bring you back into the public would be amazing too.”
Jordan grins, leaning forward. “Continuing on that vein, what if Layla joinedThe Darkest Nights, and Lennon, Turner, and Roark joined concerts on a pop up basis? Concert goers would be forewarned that there’s no promise they will be performing. This way, you have the ability to choose the concerts you’ll do.”
Lenny looks troubled. “Isn’t that a lot of pressure on Lay, Mav, and Atlas?” she asks.
Mav shakes his head, and I wonder if they’ve already discussed this beforehand. “We’ll have a slower performance schedule, Lenny. It’ll give us time to have a more normal life, fuck, you may find yourself new neighbors,” he teases her.
Lenny bounces in Turner’s lap and he chuckles. “Are you guys sure? I mean, doesn’t the label need to approve of this, Uncle Jordan?”
He shrugs. “It’s no different than adding another band member, we’re just shifting when you perform.Music Horde Recordsdoesn’t want to lose you altogether, and I warned them it was a possibility. They pushed you too hard for too long, and no one can sustain that kind of pace,” Jordan confirms.
“You know, I spoke to Laurence,” Lenny confides, “when I was trying to get in touch with James. He told me he wouldn’t be upset if we all retired.”
“He wouldn’t be upset, because he has a soul,” Jordan grumbles. “Meanwhile, I’ve been getting emails asking what our next steps are. I told them that they are nonexistent until I know my niece is safe. I may have gotten a little heated since they didn’t know that, but the label agreed your safety is paramount.”
“After all, one of their own employees was complicit in Lennon’s kidnapping,” Mav rumbles. “Fucking Prescott.”
“May she rot in hell,” I mutter. “She can never hurt anyone else.”
“Thank fuck,” Atlas sighs. “So we really just need to worry about Xav?”
Lennon leans against Turner, sinking into his comfort. “Yes, unfortunately. Everyone else has been taken care of but him. He’s gone into hiding, and no one can find him.”
We sit with that information, a cloud of melancholy over us.
“In a perfect world,” Layla says, “do you think what Uncle Jordan is proposing will work? I’m just starting my career, our schedule would be lighter, and we’d have more control over our dates. I would love to be able to see you more often, too.”
Lennon struggles to pull herself out of her thoughts. “Yes, I think it would work. Our fans love both of us, and it would be the perfect solution. I actually was just thinking about how much I love to perform, and how this is just one more thing my mother tried to take from me. It would be really fun to write songs together, and record them, that being if I can manage to write words that aren’t the stuff of nightmares,” she mutters.
Jordan rests his head in his hand, watching her. “Finding recording space has been difficult in the past, and more and more artists are building them into their homes instead. What if we did that, then you’d have a more comfortable space to record?”
Lennon’s eyes brighten, and I know she’s sold. Jordan is proposing a dream tour, and Layla would still be able to spread her wings as an artist.
“If Roark and I aren’t playing during a show, who would you use to fill the gap for instruments?” Turner asks, ever the practical one.
“The label has a list of talented people willing to fill in as needed. Their contract states that sometimes they will be needed for more than one show, and other times they’ll fill in if someone is sick,” Jordan says. “I have those details completely covered, I just need to know if you’re in.”
We spend the next hour asking questions and ironing out details, when a knock sounds on the door.
Jordan frowns, standing. “Come in!” he calls, relaxing when Orion walks through the door with food.
“I had a feeling someone would be getting hungry,” Orion says with a small smile.
Lennon perks up, looking over at him. “Yay, I’m starving,” she groans. “I think we may be almost done.”
Orion shrugs as he puts the bags of tacos on the table. “Derek and I are eating our food in the hallway, and I’ve been working. You’re totally fine,” he assures her.
“Come join us,” Jordan says, opening the bags. “We really are done, contracts won’t be signed until Lennon’s completely out of the woods.”
Orion smiles and grabs Derek, and we spend the next hour eating. As I watch everyone chat, it feels right bringing Atlas and Mav back into the fold and adding Layla to the band.
Taking a bite of my taco, I cross my fingers we’ll be able to enjoy more afternoons like this with our chosen family.
Lennon
I’m happy, but tired when we return to our house, and the first thing to go are my boots. Turner kisses my neck and I moan. Heated stares follow my noises, and I decide a nap is a perfect waste of gorgeous man candy.
