Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“I didn’t need you to test her. I know her heart. When I told her, I would’ve helped her understand.”
“Yeah, well, right now, the bad news is, she failed the test. Spectacularly, crashing in a blaze of fiery glory. The worse news? She knows, and you’d better fix it so we’re not fucked. But at least if she does go and tell the world—ruining the band and any chance at performing you have—AMM will rain down hell, brimstone, and contract penalties on me, not you.”
Wait.
That’s it. That’s his angle.
He knew I was going to tell Hope, violating every rule and clause we have, and he’s protecting me from AMM’s wrath. We know what they can do. How far they’re willing to go. It’s why we’ve been circling the drain on the whole contract thing to begin with. As much as I’d like to say we could lawyer up and deal with it, AMM wouldn’t let it be that easy. They’re monsters.
And Sean doesn’t want them setting their sights on me because I told Hope the one thing I’m not allowed to share.
I narrow my eyes, my gaze hard and cold. “I see you, see what you’re doing.”
Sean scoffs. “I’m not doing shit.”
But he whirls around, giving me his back so I can’t read him. When he drops into the chair, his face is once again schooled into blank neutrality.
“Protecting me from AMM. It’s sweet. Misguided as hell, but sweet.”
“I’m not sweet,” Sean says, but I can see the crack in his mask forming. “I’m a cold motherfucker who wanted to fuck your shit up so you’d get your ass out of this shithole and back on tour, where you belong.”
He’s blustering in a lady doth protest too much way, but I hear the truth.
He does want me on tour, wants us to sort our issues out so that can happen. But he knows things have changed for me. Because of Hope.
In the twistiest of sick ways, he was . . . helping me? Or probably thought he was, and his intentions matter. To me. Except that’s not how it’s played out. Hope’s gone and I can’t blame her for being furious.
“We’re really fucked up,” I tell him, collapsing to the couch. We’re through fighting. We have to be. And though we might not be poster children for how to handle a disagreement, our version of dysfunction works for us. It always has.
Sean shrugs, not caring.
“You hurt her and I will never forgive you for that,” I say firmly.
He nods. “Now what?”
“I have no idea,” I admit.
“Maybe start with a phone call?” he suggests, yawning hugely and stretching his arms overhead like all this drama really wore him out.
Or maybe it’s the traveling to my side in a matter of hours because he was worried I’d need him that’s made him tired. One day, I’ll thank him for showing up for me. Today is not that day.
He’s right, of course. I grab my phone and dial Hope’s number. As soon as it rings, it goes to voicemail.
“She declined the call,” I say, staring at the phone.
“Not surprised. She’s probably already poking pins in a voodoo doll with your face drawn on it.”
You’d think Sean’s kidding, but we did actually have someone do that with dolls of our onstage personas because we wouldn’t agree to personal, one-on-one interviews with her for her podcast despite her posting daily pleas for us to contact her. To be clear, interview was absolutely code for sex, and if we’d hooked up with her, I’ve no doubt we’d be named in a lawsuit of some sort afterward, given her absolutely crazed, vitriolic rants about what pieces of garbage we are for not seeing a “true fan.”
Yep, people are great. Some of them, anyway.
But Hope’s not the voodoo-doll type. She’s the walk-away-and-never-look-back type. Especially now.
I call again. Straight to voicemail.
“Hope, can we talk please? I can explain everything. Please call me.” I hang up, already willing the phone to ring because she’s calling me back.
“You sound like an addict begging for a hit.”
I don’t tell Sean that I am an addict. Addicted to Hope and the hope she gives me that I can be more than a persona. I can be a man, in love with a woman who came out of the literal woods and sent everything into utterly beautiful chaos. Including my heart.
Desperate, I try another number. One I got after getting busted out of the Wilson County Sheriff’s Department jail. Thankfully, it’s answered on the first ring.
“Whooo, buddy. You are sooo screwed.” Shepherd drawls out the judgment.
“I know. I need to fix it. Where is she?” Shepherd is fiercely protective of his sisters, and his loyalty lies solidly with them, but I’m praying he’ll help. It’s the only way I have a chance.
“I don’t know what you did, but Hope’s never been this upset. Not even over the guy she almost married. What’d you do?”