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I reread the story, this time slower, feeling the stab of betrayal with each new insult I uncovered. Remi had even managed to drag Trudy, the woman that had befriended her on the tour, into the dirt and imply that she was a slut. I read further and swallowed hard against the ache in my gut as I read about my stepbrother’s suicide. Remi knew that Adam’s death was a particularly painful part of my past, and yet she’d served it up to the masses as a mere tidbit of titillating gossip while suggesting that the band was somehow to blame for it.
“Fuck,” Sidney growled, reading on his own phone while digging his hands through his hair in frustration.
Next, Remi hinted that the ghost could be Knox’s fiancee, Aila, who’d died in a car accident just days before their wedding. I knew how damn hard Knox had struggled with grief, guilt, and shame. He’d come a long way, but the renewed scrutiny was bound to set him back. Remi so callously going after Knox, someone I considered a brother, hurt me even more than what she said about Adam, who could never be hurt by this world again.
Bash grunted. “Remi fucked us. She fucked us all. I’ve got to call my lawyer.”
Bash must be reading the part that I was reading right now. Remi had exposed the abuse Sid had received when he was in foster care. And, oh fuck, I kept reading — she inferred that Bash, Sid, and Kaylie were in some kind of incestuous love triangle. Holy fuck!
Or maybe Bash was a faster reader than I was because what came next was just as bad. In reality, Bash didn’t even know who Kody’s mother was, but Remi stated that she was serving prison time for drug charges. Oh, and she was a voodoo witch on top of that.
“She even fucked over Greyson,” Ryder added. “Fuck, it’s as bad as Talia said it was.”
I got to the part about Ryder and Greyson’s secret relationship, which, of course, was a complete fabrication. With her breathless gossip, she’d essentially outed Greyson, a Hollywood megastar, as gay to the entire planet, even though she’d claimed to love him.
The cherry on top of this shit sundae — after manipulating the truth and outright lying to hurt everyone I cared about most in this world — she’d managed to shit all over our talent as a band. What. A. Fucking. Bitch.
Betrayal gutted me, sharp as a blade. I swallowed hard against the ache in my chest, struggling to breathe. How could she do this? I thought I’d finally found someone I could trust who’d understood the gnarled wreckage of my soul. But she’d only seen a story to exploit.
I hurled my phone across the room. It bounced against the wall, cracking the glass. “Fuck!” The curse tore from my lips as I gripped my hair, chest heaving. She didn’t care about me. She never had. I was just a means to an end, a way for her to advance her damn career.
I stalked over to the counter and splashed whiskey into my glass, downing it in a single swallow. The liquid fire did nothing to dull the razor edges shredding my insides. I poured another drink with a shaking hand. I was a bomb on the verge of detonation.
“This is all bullshit. A bunch of lies. What are we going to do about it?” Bash asked, his voice tight with concern.
“Let’s wait for Darren,” Knox suggested. “They should be here any moment.”
Bash was right, the article was mostly fabricated scandal, but the world would now view it as the unvarnished truth.
When the tour manager’s bus finally pulled up, we all exchanged anxious glances. Darren and Trudy stepped onto the bus, their grim expressions confirming what I already knew. My stomach knotted as I braced myself for the fallout. I could sense the tension in the air as they glanced at each one of us, clearly aware that we’d already seen the damning article.
Scratching the back of his neck, Darren spoke first. “I can see you’ve all read the article,” he said, his voice low and steady, trying to maintain some semblance of calm.
“She completely fucked us over, Darren,” Ryder growled.
“Trudy will handle the PR side of things, but I’ve already talked to BVR. The label wants to milk this for all the publicity they can,” Darren stated, holding up a hand to prevent any objections. “The tour will go on as planned, but we’re boosting security at the venues. Reporters and fans are already swarming the next location.”
I frowned. We were about to walk into a media shitstorm and then we were expected to perform as usual? Fuck.
Darren continued, “That’s why we stopped — so the security team could get ahead of us and set up parameters for tonight’s venue. Reporters and fans are already gathering there.”
My chest tightened at the thought of facing that chaos. Bad enough I had to deal with the inner turmoil churning through me, but now my most private struggles were splashed across tabloid pages for the whole damn world to see.
The tension within me was palpable, like an invisible force choking the air around us. My fists clenched and unclenched by my side.
Trudy cleared her throat before addressing the band, her tone serious and business-like. “Vector Security has someone en route to Ryder’s house in L.A.” Her eyes flicked to Ryder briefly. “Paparazzi have gathered there too, but we’re monitoring the situation closely. Unfortunately, it seems that Greyson is taking the brunt of this mess, but that is good for us.”
“Fuck.” The word escaped my lips before I could stop it. I clenched my fists, feeling the anger and worry churn inside me like a storm. The ramifications of Remi’s betrayal were already spiraling out of control.
Trudy sighed, her gaze soft with sympathy. “I’m working on a response strategy to mitigate the fallout from the article. We’ve had a lawyer from BVR speak with Hollywood Exposé, threatening legal action.”
“Is that going to work?” Knox asked, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Unfortunately, the wording of the article makes taking it to court unlikely,” she admitted, her gaze steady despite the troubling news. “But I assure you, we will do everything in our power to get through this.”
“I’ll leave the buses stopped so the security team can get into place at the next venue,” Darren said. “We’ll get to the venue and then we act like it’s business as usual. Except, we’ll need to follow strict security protocols. I suggest you keep your after-show partying to a minimum. In fact, it might be better to remain low-key and come back to the buses right after the show.”
“We’ve already canceled your media spots until we get a read on how this is going to play. For now, just stick to the plan,” Trudy said. “Don’t make any comments to the press. Go on with tonight’s show like nothing’s happened.”
