Chapter 42 Jagger
FORTY-TWO
Jagger
“You can’t do this, Jagger!” I wince as Valerie’s hysterical shrieks stab my eardrums. “You’re throwing away your entire career because of some nobodies and an omega you hardly know!”
“My pack aren’t nobodies.” My protective instincts race to the surface to defend my packmates. “And as I’ve already told you, I sent my lawyer the contract to review. He confirmed that I’m no longer obligated to be part of Pack Fire, despite what you’ve been saying over the years.”
“Well… uh…” she huffs down the line. “If you want to get technical—”
For years, I trusted Valerie to handle my affairs and truly thought she wanted the best for me. It’s infuriating to discover that she’s manipulated me to stay with the record label and tethered me to Brad and Drew in order to make more money.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done over the years.
” Even though she doesn’t deserve my thanks after her spreading misinformation, I need to put an end to the conversation.
We’ve been going around in circles for ages.
“But now is the right time for me to focus on what’s coming next. Away from the band.”
“This is career suicide!”
“Yes, this is the end of my career in Pack Fire, but some things are more important,” I tell her.
“You’re making a big mistake!” she screeches.
“Mark my words, you’ll regret this!” I recognize the snide edge to her voice.
The same tone I’ve heard her direct at others over the years.
She’s not someone you want to get on the wrong side of because she’s been known to tear down reputations, but I’m not wavering on this. “Legal is already sending papers.”
“They can send whatever they’d like.” I stay calm, holding the cell phone away from my ear to avoid being deafened by more of her warbling. “Goodbye, Valerie.”
My shoulders sag in relief as soon as the call ends. Good fucking riddance.
“How does it feel, bud?” Tae claps my shoulder. “To be free?”
“Amazing.”
I blow out a long exhale. Despite the lingering guilt about potentially ruining Delilah and Nash’s bonding announcement, it feels like a huge weight has been lifted.
Even the email that appears in my inbox seconds later from the record label’s legal team doesn’t dampen my spirits.
My lawyer will deal with it and has assured me my reasoning is water-tight.
“Should we do something nice for Delilah and Nash when they get back? We can maybe run into Forestville and get—” He’s interrupted by his cell phone ringing. “What now? I feel like we’re in a newsroom today.” He groans but answers when he sees it’s Kady. “What’s up?”
His brow furrows as he grabs his laptop, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder as his fingers fly over the keyboard. Seconds later, a photograph of me and Delilah appears on the screen. My short-lived feeling of freedom comes crashing down.
No…
All this time, I’ve wanted to protect her, and now this?
Underneath the photograph of us is a picture of Brad and Drew, fake-pouting, wearing full black like they’re going to a funeral with the accompanying headline, “Ditched for an omega!” Their smug faces are so punchable.
Sure, they were nice at the start. We had fun, but then their jealousy kicked in.
It began with snide remarks made at my expense.
They hated how I got more attention than them, yet they acted like my best friends to get into clubs or exclusive events. They used me.
My ears are ringing, only half-listening when Tae explains how Kady and Calder are working on keeping Delilah’s name out of the press and how they suspect that Valerie had a major part to play in the leak.
Next to me, Tae keeps scrolling through article after article, shaking his head as he reads some of the speculation and comments that go alongside them.
I can basically hear Valerie’s pre-rehearsed words in my ex-bandmates interviews:
“Devastated to hear about this… Potential mental breakdown … Omega infatuation…’”
“The talentless bastards!” Anger heats my blood, my fists clenching. “I’ll kill them.”
“Jagger,” Tae warns. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
But it’s too late as my arm vibrates, clutching my cell phone so tightly that I think the screen may shatter as I call Brad.
“What the fuck, Brad?” My voice shakes as the words rip out of my mouth. “I saw the article.”
“Oh, you wanna speak to me now, huh?” Brad’s nasally voice immediately has my hackles up. “You clearly didn’t think leaving Pack Fire was something you should have discussed with your bandmates.”
“Both of you knew that I wanted to leave years ago. Remember last year when I tried to leave, but you all talked me out of it, making sure I stayed?”
Despite his and Drew’s good looks, neither of them contribute much. Neither of them can sing well. I’m the one who carries the group vocally; they just came along for the ride.
“You’re just looking out for yourself and your omega.” He hisses “omega” like it’s a dirty word. “You could have had it all. Me and Drew were happy to be your pack, but then you chose them, and everything went wrong. If you want to blame anyone for this, blame them.”
He sounds like a petulant child. I’m used to his diva-like attitude—demanding outrageous VIP treatment, leading groupies on, and treating people like shit on tour.
I’m embarrassed that I used to believe that he actually knew what he was talking about and thought that was how celebrities behaved.
Luckily, I now see both of them for who they really are.
“This is all about the fact that I didn’t want to form a pack with you?” I pinch my nose between my fingers, a headache brewing. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to form a pack with you. Printing a photograph like that was only going to cause chaos. You know what the Fireflies can be like!”
“That’s not my problem.” Either I’m on speaker or Drew took the phone from Brad as he’s speaking now. “If your bitch can’t take the heat, then—”
“Don’t you fucking dare call her that. If you do anything else, I’ll make sure every sordid little thing that Valerie’s helped covered up gets aired.
” A stagnant pause follows before I continue.
“I hope you both made a quick buck from this sob story, because when the dust settles, people will see you both for who you really are. Pathetic, talentless backup singers.”
“Ouch.” Tae winces. “Burn.”
“Fuck you, Jagger,” Brad seethes. “I hope your new life is worth it.”
Unwilling to listen to another word, I hang up on him.
“Well, that went well.” Tae smirks. “Did it make you feel any better?”
“No.” I kick the chair to relieve my frustration, but unfortunately, it does nothing.
Fuck! Soon I’ll have to deal with the fallout—hire a new manager who isn’t associated with my old label, get someone to manage my social media, find a new producer… Hell, maybe I’ll even self-produce? But before any of that, Delilah is my first priority.
The tires crunching on the gravel outside alerts us to their return. I’m already running before they’re even through the doorway.
“I’m so sorry, Delilah,” I croak as soon as she walks inside.
Instead of being met with anger, she smiles softly. “It wasn’t your fault, Jagger.”
“But if I hadn’t left the band—”
“You had no way of knowing this would happen.” She reached up to cup my cheek. Her tender touch takes me off guard, centering me and calming some of the anger still scalding my veins after speaking to my douchebag ex-bandmates.
“And the comments—”
She puts a finger to my lips. “Kady recommended we do a media blackout, and I think that’s a good idea. No screens, no internet, just us—” She winces, clutching her stomach. “Ouch!”
“Delilah?” Nash’s arms wrap around her, cocooning her in his massive biceps. “Are you okay?”
“I…” Her pupils swallow her irises. “Oh, shit! I forgot to take my suppressants this morning.” Her gaze strays to my lips as she inhales deeply, looking like she’s entering a trance.
“Wow. Your scent.” She licks her lips. “You smell like marshmallows.” She nuzzles the sides of her face into Nash’s chest. It’s a look that sends all the blood in my body rushing to my groin, a primitive instinct screaming at me to bow down between her legs and make her feel amazing.
“And Jagger? You smell like salted caramel fudge. Mmm.”
Any more thoughts about Brad, Drew, and Valerie are erased from my mind with one sniff of her perfume—now thick in the air between us, the unmistakable pheromones of an omega about to go into heat. “Get her to the nest. Right fucking now.”
Nash’s already one step ahead of me, scooping her up into a fireman’s lift. “You’re coming with me!”
“But I want to feel Jagger’s hair!” I hear her complain as he carries her up to the nest. “It looks so soft!”
All that matters now is taking care of Delilah’s needs. She has my—our—entire focus.
Tae scratches his head in confusion. “Wh—”
“Grab her bags, fill up the water bottles with those special supplements we bought, then bring them up to the nest,” I instruct him. “Delilah’s going into heat.”
Judging by the sheer intensity of her perfume—which is making it hard for me to string a sentence together—I follow its trail like a bloodhound through the house.
This is no heat spike.