Chapter 26
Harper
I swore to god if she put her hand on his chest one more time…
“Harper? Harper?”
I blinked back into the present where Bud was waving a hand in front of my face.
“Everything okay?” he asked with a frown on his craggy face.
I smiled. “Yeah. Sorry. Just been putting in some long hours. You know how it is.”
“Sure, sure. It has nothing at all to do with Kelly Evers feeling up your man center stage.”
I rolled my eyes. “Was there something you needed, Bud?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing, since you’ve been hovering over my shoulder for the past ten minutes.”
“Right. I can take a hint. Let me know if you need anything.”
He grunted his reply and got back to work.
Leaving me with nothing productive to do.
We were in London for two more nights, and I’d already checked our bookings twice for the next stop in Marseille, France. The house was confirmed. The venue ready to receive our gear. The plane was already fueled at Stansted with all crew confirmed. Media appearances had been double checked.
So here I stood literally twiddling my thumbs.
Or sharpening my claws, depending on your point of view.
It was agony to watch Xander and Kelly run through their performance. They might’ve been singing a breakup song, but that didn’t stop Kelly from sending Xander those sad, longing looks. Like she was heartbroken over their status. Kelly might think she was an actor after her bit part on that HBO show, but she wasn’t that good of an actress.
I knew that story on the Babbler’s website had been bullshit. Sure, Kelly and Jay had been in a few maternity stores, but they’d probably invited the paps along with them. Kelly was as likely to be pregnant as I was. And since this was day five of my period and I hadn’t been with Xander in over a week, that chance was pretty much zero.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
I jolted as a male voice came from behind me.
Spinning around, I found Tyler Worthington standing there in a bespoke suit and an arrogant smirk on his face. “Oh. Hi.”
He might’ve been ridiculously attractive with his dark brown hair all gelled back and his clean-shaven face, but he paled in comparison with Xander’s bearded manbun and calloused fingers. I was officially Team Xander.
“Yeah, hey.” Tyler crossed his arms over his chest and even I had to admit the position did impressive things to his chest that his suit couldn’t quite hide. “I had an interesting talk with Noah earlier.”
“Oh, great. Is he finally on board with treatment?” The thought of Noah overdosing on the road—hell, onstage —had kept me awake most nights. He clearly had a problem, and it was killing me that no one in management agreed with me. Even going so far as threatening me and my position if I made too big of a deal about it. Like I was the problem.
“Oh, no.” Tyler let out this scoffing laugh that made my neck twitch. “No, he still doesn’t think he has a problem. And honestly, there’s not much we can do until he admits it. But he said—”
“That’s not true. There’s lots we can do. We can tell the band.” I started counting my examples on my fingers. “We can stage an intervention. We can cancel the rest of the tour until he completes treatment. You’re only limited by your imagination.”
Tyler cocked his head and stared intently at me for so long, I actually took a peek to make sure I wasn’t wearing my top backward. Finally Tyler shook his head. “You’re right. Maybe we need to have dinner and put an action plan together. See what we can do to help out our client.”
The words should’ve made me happy, but something about his tone had me questioning his intent. Holding my tablet in my left hand, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why dinner? Can’t we talk it out here—now?”
Tyler’s smile could’ve been an advert for toothpaste—all gleamingly white and not at all suspicious. He shook his head like he was bashful, but that glimmer in his eye never dimmed. “Cards on the table? A little birdie told me that you had a crush on me, and I thought it was beyond time we went out and saw what this spark could do. I bet there’s an inferno burning inside that tight little body of yours.”
All the blood left my head.
Someone told him I had a crush on him? Like we were in high school?
Flashbacks of standing in front of Blake Myers and confessing my feelings twined with a guttural revulsion at the idea of being with Tyler now. His smarmy ways could never live up to what I felt with Xander.
What I felt with Xander .
Oh my god.
I was in love with Xander.
It’d been so easy to deny since I’d been ducking and dodging him because of my guilt over keeping Noah’s drugging secret. But it’d been bubbling under the surface for so long. I lived for a glimpse of his smile. I melted every time he put his arm around me. And when we’d been together…there was nothing like it. Nothing could compare to everything we’d shared. I missed our little whispered late night confessions after we’d wrung every drop of pleasure out of each other. I missed hearing him whisper my name with that husky urgency. I missed Xander. Because I loved him.
I loved Xander Lang.
“Harper? Harper? Are you okay?”
I blinked and swayed a little as Tyler came back into focus in front of me. He’d hunched down to stare into my eyes, waving a hand in front of my face.
“Whoa.” He put out a hand and grabbed my arm to steady me. “You okay? I’ve never had a girl faint when I asked her out before.”
“What the fuck?” Xander’s annoyed voice came from behind Tyler. “You asked her out?”
Tyler kept one hand on me as he turned and grinned at Xander. “She was so overcome that she almost passed out.”
My eyes about bugged out of my head. “I didn’t say yes!”
“You didn’t?” Xander all but yelled at the same time Tyler said, “Wait, you’re not going to?”
I shook my head. “I’m with Xander. I wouldn’t—I couldn’t go out with you.”
It felt like such an inadequate explanation, but it was all I was capable of with both of them staring at me like that.
“Hey, don’t let me stand in your way.” Xander took a big step back and raised his palms. “You’ve been dodging me for two weeks. I’m not stupid. I get it. We had fun, but clearly you’re over it and too chicken shit to tell me the truth.”
“Xander, I don’t…I mean I’m not…” I couldn’t get my brain and tongue to work together. The sight of his disappointment and disgust in me took my breath away.
“Hey, that’s what this whole thing was about, right? You keep Kelly off my back, and I get you on yours with Tyler.” He cocked his head and gave me this look of disappointment. “Don’t let me stand in your way.”
His eyes full of emotion, Xander shook his head and walked away.
From me.
The corridor echoed with the sound of my heart and my relationship with Xander falling to pieces around me as his Doc Martens clicked down the hallway.
It felt like a gut punch. Was that seriously what he thought of me? That I just wanted to get under a rich guy? I’d spent my whole life making sure I was independent. Relied on no one but myself. Xander knew that. Right?
Tears burned my eyelids as the answer slapped me in the face.
“Right. I’m guessing by the look on your face that this—” He dropped my arm and gestured between us. “Isn’t going to happen.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, Tyler. Your little birdie was right. I was into you. But I have feelings for that behemoth who just stomped away like an angry toddler.”
“I, uh, I guess I’m sorry? I mean, I hope you two can work things out. I’m just gonna go…” He waved a hand behind him.
“Right. That’s probably best.”
“Right. Okay. Bye.” He gave me another awkward wave before turning and walking away, but in a different direction from Xander.
I would’ve laughed at the sight of the normally put together Tyler Worthington looking so flustered, but I was too busy untangling my emotions from Xander’s nasty words. Anger, sadness, guilt. Although what I had to feel guilty over, I couldn’t piece together. It was just such a messy jumble, I had tears burning the back of my eyelids. And I couldn’t even blame any of it on my hormones.
It was all Xander’s fault.
Which made it the absolute worse time ever for my dad to call. Or for me to pick up the call without looking at the contact info.
“Hey, honey.”
I sighed. “Hey, Dad. I can’t talk long. Super busy here.”
“I know. I know. It’s just nice to hear your voice. How’s the tour going?”
“Good.” I looked down and scuffed my boots against the cement floor. My dad had been surprisingly positive when I’d told him about my job back when I’d first got hired. Even sounded proud of me. It was weird. Still was weird. “I was promoted to tour manager so it’s all up to me. The good and the bad. I’m the responsible person for over fifty employees and so much equipment I couldn’t even count it all. It’s…It’s a lot.”
“I’m sure you’ll do an amazing job, honey. You’ve always been so responsible.”
“Well, someone had to be, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be you.” The words spewed out of my mouth without a thought. But they were true. “I grew up way sooner than I should’ve had to. How many ten-year-olds do you know who can write out a rent check?”
Strained silence crackled over the line. I didn’t regret a single thing I’d said, and I opened my mouth to say as much when my dad spoke again.
“None. And you definitely shouldn’t have had to. And that’s something I wanted to talk to you about—why I’ve been calling so relentlessly lately. I uh, I joined gamblers anonymous a few months back. Actually, I’m coming up on my year anniversary. And uh, one of the steps I’m working on is making a list of all people I’ve harmed because of my gambling, and you’re at the top of it. I know I wasn’t the best dad. Or much of a dad actually. I’m so sorry, honey.”
My breath hitched at the pain in his voice, and some of my anger drained away. But I still had so much of it inside me. It couldn’t be patched up and forgiven with a paltry sorry over the phone. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just…I want to try to make amends for being such a shit father. I know we can’t go back, no matter how much I wish we could. We can only go forward. And going forward, I’d like to be in your life—however you’re comfortable with that. I know I have a lot to make up for.”
My heart hurt at the obvious pain in his voice. But no words could make up for the years of pain I’d felt at his absence, at the times we’d had to move because we’d been evicted, the number of times he’d come home beaten and bruised because he’d found a crooked poker game and bet more than he’d should’ve. The number of times he’d stolen from me.
“I-I-I can’t, Dad. I have to go.”
“Oh—”
I ended the call before he could finish whatever he was going to say.
My emotions were all over the place. I swiped at the tears escaping and fought like hell to lock it down.
I was a professional.
I had to be in control.
A sob erupted from my chest. It was just all too much. Xander. Tyler. Noah. My dad. Wes. Everyone in my life was disappointing me. Breaking me down. Breaking my heart.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
Tears clouded my vision, and I all but ran for a nearby restroom. Ducking into the women’s side, I tried like hell to get myself under control. My breath left me in painful hitches. Really, all I wanted to do was collapse in a heap and cry. But I couldn’t. I had people depending on me. I had a worldwide tour to run.
I was stronger than this, dammit.
My breathing was still unsteady, but my heart felt calmer as I stared resolutely at my reflection. Gripping the edge of the counter, I vowed to do better. Be more in control. Stand up to the fucking men in my life. I’d make them all regret seeing me as less than. Weak. Malleable. I was the one in control, dammit. I’d been running my life since I was five. There was nothing anyone here could throw at me that’d make me break.
I was a Taurus. I might bend, but I’d never break.
After cleaning up my face with some tissue paper and cursing myself for not having any makeup on hand at work, I looked over my reflection one more time. It wasn’t difficult to tell that I’d been crying, but at least I looked more put together than I had when I’d first come in.
Straightening my shoulders, I grabbed my tablet and headed for the exit.
Where I bumped into our newest security guard, Diego.
He visibly jumped when he saw me, which was my first clue that not everything was on the up and up. I mean he was security. How had he missed the sounds I’d been making in the other side of the restroom? It was literally his job to be on top of shit like that.
“What’s going on?” I asked him with a frown.
Diego shrugged. “Just gotta take a piss.”
I gave him major side eye, but gestured to the other side of the restroom. “Okay. Don’t let me hold you up.”
His shoulders twitched, and he swiped at his nose. After a pause, he tipped his head and headed into the men’s side of the restroom.
Right. That wasn’t suspicious at all.
The excuse Noah had used to explain away his presence in the kit room in Dublin came back to me. He’d been looking for Diego. Diego, who’d become his new best friend since all the Tin Gods had started coupling up. Diego, who clearly was using now.
Maybe I’d been wrong.
Maybe Diego was the one with the drug problem.
Luckily for me, Diego had a clause covering random testing in his contract.
Unlike Noah.
Leaning against the outer wall, I crossed my arms over my chest and waited to see what would happen next.
I didn’t have to wait long.
About a minute later, Noah came around the corner with his head down and his arms twitching at his sides. His hair was wild and unkempt—something I hadn’t been able to see in the sound booth. When his head came up and he saw me, his eyes were bloodshot and so red.
Dammit.
I hadn’t been wrong. These two were up to nothing good.
Son of a bitch.
“Noah.” I tipped my head. “How’s it going?”
“What? Fine. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I gotta take a shit.”
“Nice.” I shook my head. “Maybe give Diego some warning. He’s already in there.”
“Whatever,” he snarled as he stalked past me.
“But you already knew that, right? Since Diego is your hookup.”
“Love is love.” Noah snorted. “Who are you to judge?”
“Not that kinda hookup. I don’t give a shit where you stick your dick. I’m talking about your hookup for…coke, I’m guessing. And I don’t mean cola.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Sure. And I guess you won’t mind a random drug test.”
Noah had almost reached the entrance of the restroom but swung around when I said the words drug test . “You’re not testing an ounce of my piss. Check my contract. Sobriety isn’t a requirement of my employment.”
“But it is for Diego. Isn’t that right, Diego?” I turned to the burly man now standing behind Noah. “I think Black Hat will be calling you in for a drug test. Today. Right now, in fact.”
I moved my hand to key in my headset when Diego dove at me and grabbed it, holding my hand in an iron grip.
Diego loomed above me, his putrid breath attacking my face when he spoke. “You ain’t gonna do shit, princess. I’m gonna tell you how this is going to go.”
“Uh, Dee.” Noah’s eyes darted between me and Diego as he cautiously approached. “I don’t think—”
“Exactly! You don’t think.” Still holding my arm, Diego turned slightly to glare at Noah. “This is why I said this location was stupid. Too many people have access. Too many things can go wrong. Now we gotta do something about this bitch.”
The absolute venom in his tone had me feeling lightheaded. It was like an out-of-body experience. So surreal. This couldn’t be happening.
“Whoa, man.” Noah raised his palms and took a step back. “That is not okay. I’m not down for whatever the fuck that means.” His eyes darted to me, and a childlike expression of guilt swept across his face.
“This is my fucking life. Do you think I’m gonna get burned by some pixie bitch who thinks she’s in charge of me?” His fingers tightened on my arm as he wrenched it out and up. “I don’t listen to bitches like you.”
“Whoa, whoa.” Noah came toward us, waving his hands. “This is not on, man. Harper is like a sister to me. I’m not down for treating her like this.”
“Then get lost. Run away. That’s what you do, right, bro? Leave me to do the hard work?”
“That’s, I mean, I’m not…” Noah paced away, combing an agitated hand through his messy blond hair.
“Exactly. Leave me to deal with the bitch.” Diego turned back to me and wrenched my arm again.
I cried out. It hurt.
And fuck I was scared.
I’d been on the road with the band for years, and I’d never been in a situation like this.
I froze. Tears welled in my eyes and all I could think was that I didn’t want to go with him. He tried to jerk me forward, but I dug my heels in. Or tried to. My boots didn’t offer much friction against the hard, cement floor. “No,” I croaked. “I’m not—”
“Shut up!” Diego roared as he turned on me. He lifted a hand.
But suddenly Noah was there.
Pushing between us.
Shoving Diego against the wall.
They traded blows, and I just watched in stunned horror.
“Not. Gonna. Happen.” Noah grunted as he swung on Diego. “Not to Harper. Not fucking ever.”
Something about the scene finally jolted me, and I keyed my mic. “I need security to the southeast restrooms ASAP. Security to the southeast restroom ASAP. Security breech in the southeast restrooms. Security breech in the southeast restrooms.”
I knew better than to wade in on an altercation between two guys that probably each weighed twice as much as me.
And a few seconds later, literally everyone appeared.
Security. Marisol. Instrument techs. Venue security. Even Bud popped up and helped separate the two fighting men.
I pointed at Diego. “I want him gone. All clearance accesses wiped. He needs an escort to his hotel and then a ride to the airport. I want his ass away from us and out of the goddamn country.”
Walker, the band’s number one security guard, nodded at Hyde. “We’ll take care of it personally.”
Hyde wrenched Diego’s arm behind him and frog marched him down the hall and away from me.
I could finally breathe. I hadn’t realized how anxious just having that man in the same space made me.
Marisol sidled up to me and said softly, “Do you want medical? Your arm is already bruising.”
Bud cursed. “Son of a bitch. He put hands on you? Thank god Noah came along, huh?”
Staring at Noah, I took in his heaving chest and the blank expression on his face. Despite stepping in to defend me, it was like he wasn’t even in the same hallway. He looked miles away. “Yeah, thank god. But uh, no, Marisol. No medical. I’m okay.”
She nodded and stepped away when I called her back.
“On second thought—”
She turned back, but I never took my eyes off of Noah.
“Arrange for sitewide drug testing of all contracted staff. I caught Diego; I want to make sure everyone else is clean. Remind them that if they refuse, they’re fired. No excuses. I want everyone tested before we leave England.”
“I’ll get on it,” Marisol reported.
But Noah—who clearly heard me—never changed his expression. After a few more that-a-boys from the crew, he shook them off and walked away.