Chapter 24
24
FOSTER
Now…
No one has spoken a word since Christian burst in, cut off the music, and demanded Felix sit.
He wasn’t even wearing his manager brows or using the tone as he cursed his way through a recap of the call from the label. He looked rocked, telling us about the concerns for Remi’s safety. Worries about the conditions she’s working under with us. The insinuations we’ve been harassing her. Ones that are worse. A mention of what might happen to her alone with us on the bus. And the straight-out reprehensible question of whether Mac Records needs to “ clean up any messes .”
All of it burns on the way down—but the last one’s a blue flame right to the fucking chest.
Christian eventually stops his pacing at the front of our private, soundproofed room. He leans back against the karaoke machine, under the shiny fucking disco ball reflecting shimmering color over us.
“I told you to take them somewhere,” he spat at Colton on his way in, “and you picked the stupidest place.”
Honestly, it was a great time until he started hurling the verbal equivalent of knives at all of us.
I stare at the egregious lime green pattern on the blue carpet while Dev shifts on the couch beside me like he might say something. But Colt beats him, finally breaking the screaming silence inside the walls.
“Hold the hell up.” He stays against the wall, his arms crossed. “They’re claiming she might be sexually ass?—”
“Uh-uh,” Christian chides without hiding his annoyance. “We’re not to use possibly ‘harmful words,’ only dance around them like they did. God forbid anyone call forth the boogeyman.”
The bite in Colt’s tone is sharp when he continues, “Fine. They claim Remi might be unsafe on the bus as the only woman, worried the four of us can’t keep our sunshine sticks away from her, so they sent the fucking wannabe to protect her? The dude was practically humping her leg when we picked her up in New York, trying to big dog us.”
“Make it make sense,” Dev mutters.
I grind my teeth together, about to snap at the mere mention of our tour’s new addition. Xander, the wannabe boyfriend she’s clearly fucked. Her roommate who misses her. Her new assistant.
Every thought and feeling bombarding me on the bus before I kissed Remi has resurfaced. Why I can never trust her. Now I remember it all. I remember him.
A friend by any other name.
No excuses, though. I reread the book, expecting a different story.
Christian groans up front. “Christ. Okay.” He groans again, even more exasperated. “Shit. I don’t even want to ask this.”
“I’ll do it then,” Colton says. “Did anyone cross a line with Remi? Say something, do something?”
Dev sighs and tips his face up. “She’s never acted like we got close to any line. Even on Halloween, she bit right back at us and joked around. If she ever felt…” He audibly exhales. “Fuck. I don’t know.”
“Well, we know Christian’s talked to her legs from the beginning. You had her licking you for a shot.” Colton kicks off the wall. “Foster’s been a prick since moment one. Felix is Felix.”
I glance at our drummer, slumped in a chair and looking at nothing. Other than his thumb tapping his thigh, he hasn’t moved. Damn, I bet his demons are circle-dancing around the flames right now.
“Anyone touch her?” Christian hates the implication of the question. I hear it in his tone, but he needs to ask.
“No,” Dev says, and Felix slowly moves his head side to side, gaze remaining unfocused.
“Foster.”
My eyes shift to Colton, my jaw about to crack and knee bouncing. When I give him nothing else, his eyes close, head falling forward.
“The bathtub.” Not a question. He saw her attempting to hide. “It was consensual.” Another statement, but I nod when his head lifts because it needs answered. It deserves an answer, even if we’ve been ordered not to use the words sexual harassment and assault. Two of the other three focus on me, then he says, “Any other times?”
I nod once.
“The bruise she’s been covering up is from you?” This from Christian, referencing the mark they’ve all caught glimpses of but no one’s called out.
A nod.
“Oh, shit.” Dev shoots me a concerned look.
“My advice is we not do any of it anymore.” Christian directs it toward everyone but looks straight at me. We all know if I’m the only one who’s touched her, the likelihood of whatever the fuck is happening involving me skyrockets. “Regardless of who and what caused this, we’re all responsible moving forward. We need to remember Remi’s not one of us. She’s here for Mac and Erickson, and now they’ve sent the wannabe. Anticipate him jumping on anything he views as inappropriate and running to them. To cover all our bases, assume his definition includes everything he considers a threat to what he wants.”
Colton pops his neck, a mask in place when he locks eyes with me. The stare reiterates the warning about Remi and Xander. I nod, having been force-fed what I already knew and, for some fucking reason, tried to ignore.
* * *
The tension looms over all of us, the darkening sky serving as a dark cloud as we return to the bus. Christian’s already on his phone, wandering off, when Colt charges ahead to board first. He’s in security mode, reappearing before I reach the stairs with a nod.
“You’re good,” he tells me.
But I’m not because I realize it’s Remi. He’s protecting me from her .
I halt at the door, which forces Felix and Dev to a stop. I need to breathe, a second away from everything. Shaking my head, I change direction, following the length of the bus. Dev curses behind me. Not Felix, though. He still hasn’t said a word, and a gut check says he won’t until he’s high.
Clasping my hands on the back of my neck, I round the end of the bus into shadows. As soon as I’m out of sight, I let in what I’ve staved off since the karaoke room. The anger and fear and doubt, and then the heartbreak and ache and guilt. The bitter taste of betrayal returns, and all the way at the bottom of the Remi box, the hate.
And it’s as potent as ever.
I drop my hands, followed by my forehead onto the cold metal. The situation feels wrong, like a piece has been forced in where it doesn’t belong. But I can’t be fooled by the faulty wiring inside of me when it comes to the sad, broken girl—my beautiful liar. Only two of those words have ever been true. Remi was never my anything. She was never mine.
In need of a distraction, I push off the bus and spin, leaning against it. I fish out my phone to shoot off a text. I intend to ignore all the notifications until one snags my attention. The same number called three times since yesterday. Without it in my contacts, I would usually ignore it, but this one’s also in my messages. At the top and from less than a minute ago. When they text again, a bunch of question marks show in the preview.
Aggressive.
Every now and then a fan gets ahold of my number, or someone sends a woman my way. Uninterested in entertaining either, I tap the thread open to block the person. But they text again before I can, my thumb hovering over the screen.
Unknown
Two minutes is all I need. I’ll even prove it’s me.
I scroll up to their first message from yesterday where they admonish me for not checking my DMs. I snort, but all humor and thoughts vanish when I read the next one. The name’s as much a shockwave as the first time it appeared on my screen. Before I have a chance to doubt, the proof auto-scrolls me to the newest message from her.
In the selfie, Sav Loveless holds a phone, today’s date on the lock screen, the time on it the same as mine when adjusted for a time zone difference.
Then the number calls again.
I answer, and any lingering disbelief disintegrates.
“Finally,” she sighs out. “You, Adams North, are nearly impossible to get ahold of.”
“By design,” I say. “But I’d think Sav Loveless would have an easier time than most.”
The lead singer of The Hometown Heartless laughs. “You’d think, but your team sucks. From your label to agent, they gave my coordinator the runaround. And when she finally got ahold of your manager, he shut her down.”
“Christian?” I ask.
“He told her you’re on tour and have no time for what I’m calling to ask. Which I understand, but I also know there’s a break in your schedule coming up.”
My desire to punch my manager in the face returns. “He never said anything.”
“I’m not surprised. I have a feeling your label doesn’t want me anywhere near you.” Then she doubles down on her text. “This would have been a lot easier if you answered DMs. I messaged you last week.”
“I haven’t checked anything lately.” Between shows and writing, I haven’t done more than random posts. “Trust me, I’d have replied to you, busy or not. What did Christian shut down?”
She hesitates. “Well, it was always shorter notice, but there’s a benefit concert for the families and people displaced by the hurricane that hit the Carolinas. Almost all the money is going toward rebuilding the communities. Bringing awareness can encourage people to volunteer on top of donating, and six of the hottest bands and artists on the same stage draws a lot of attention. Six acts, so long as I convince Adams North to play.”
Holy shit. Sav Loveless called to ask me to perform. I thought hearing a stadium of people chant for me was surreal.
“You’re behind the benefit?” I ask, knowing I’ll say yes.
“I am. I have an in with the owner for one of the construction companies coordinating the rebuild project, and the area’s near where I grew up, so it’s close to home.” She adds, “Which is why the rest of the money is going to a program set up to match the families and people with hosts for the holidays. They already lost their houses. By being welcomed into someone else’s, they might at least have a chance to feel a sense of home.”
And she nails my soft spot—as if I hadn’t already decided.
“Sold,” I tell her. “Can the entire band perform, though? If Felix and Dev can’t make it, I’m down to perform solo. But I wouldn’t feel right not trying to include them.”
“Yes. Please. With the time constraint, I didn’t want to push my luck, but the spot was intended for Of Men and Wolves. Speaking of, you agreed before knowing how short notice this is.”
I chuckle. “I imagine very since it seems to line up with our break, which starts in three days.”
“It’s next Saturday,” she says, and I hear the wince.
Close call. Only one day would have me saying no, and it’s next Sunday. I need to be in Texas. Nonnegotiable.
“I’ll be there. I’ll ask Felix and Dev if they’re available as soon as we’re done here.”
She sighs. “Thank you. I owe you, Adams. There are donation goals and incentives for reaching them, and adding you or the band will let us aim higher.”
She owes me nothing. Even after this, I owe her for life. “No problem, Sav.”
“Okay, then. The marketing team has slow-dripped the artist reveals on social media, so they can announce whoever still. You and Heartless will be the last ones. There are more details, but I’ll send the number for the woman in charge,” she says. “And I’ll send it to you directly, so I know you receive it.”
“Message me who to talk to, and I’ll make sure it gets handled. I’m sorry about all the assholes. If you ever need anything else, skip them and let me know. Directly.”
She laughs. “Deal. You can make it up to me by playing an unplugged ‘Haunted’ for an incentive.”
I can’t help a hint of a smile at the request. “I can make that happen.”
We say goodbye, and Sav sends me the coordinator’s info as I swing around the corner of the bus. But I barely shove the phone in my pocket, let alone track down Felix and Dev, before reality crashes in. Remi steps off the other bus, turns, and we immediately lock onto each other.
Fuck.
She looks exactly the same as when I saw her earlier. Right here in the parking lot. Except nothing feels the same, like a filter flickered out, revealing what it covered. I clearly see again. My armor’s been reforged and reinforced.
I stride toward the front of the bus, her steps erasing the rest of the concrete until she’s right in front of me, both of us in front of the open door.
“Can we talk?” she asks, eyes flicking inside.
I shrug. “Does it have to do with filming?”
She shakes her head. “No. Did Christian tell you what happened? Foster?—”
“Adams,” I interject.
Remi jerks back like I slapped her. “What?” When I don’t respond, she blinks up at me. “You can’t be serious. You think I complained to the label about you guys? You know me. I’d never…” She trails off when my gaze lifts, and she glances over her shoulder to Xander, grinning like a douche as he exits the other bus.
“Your assistant looks like he might need you. Maybe you guys can talk about how much he missed you.” Before he reaches us, I add, “So we’re clear, I don’t know you—not anymore or ever. And you chose to not know me. It’s time we both remember it.”
Sad, sad eyes, but I can’t bring myself to care anymore. If she didn’t complain herself, I can guess who did on her behalf. The guy who steps beside her, looking down at her, then up at me.
“Holy shit, you’re Adams North,” he says. “You have no idea how stoked I am to meet you. I’m Xander Salvatore.” He sticks out his hand for me to shake, and I stare at him until he withdraws it. “I, uh … The fact I get to work on this project with you and the band is insane. I really lucked out.”
I huff a disbelieving laugh, returning my eyes to Remi as she shifts uncomfortably. “The luckiest man, I’m sure.”
“Especially getting to work side by side with Rem again.” He edges closer to her, her arm overlapping his now. Another clear message from the wannabe. And she doesn’t move away.
On a slow inhale, I tick through all the reasons not to break his face. But it might happen if I don’t get the fuck away from them.
“Speaking of work, Rem.” He glances down with a smile. “We decided to grab dinner while you all catch me up.”
His skin brushes hers, and I bite out, “Is there anything else, Sinner?” I cock my head at her, and after a few seconds of studying me, searching my eyes for something she won’t find, she shakes hers.
I board the bus without another word to either of them. Without another look. Because it doesn’t matter who he is or what she says he is to her. It doesn’t matter how many times she casts her sad eyes up at me or drags unwanted memories out of me.
The lies stay lies. Our past remains.
What broke is still broken.
I won’t let myself forget again.
Because the truth is, I fell in love with Remi Saint and emerged loathing Remi Sinner. She can’t be both, and I should thank her for reminding me which one’s on my tour. It’s not the one who ended up being an illusion. Now I wait it out until she disappears from my life again. Only I’m not going after her this time. I learned my lessons the hard way.