Chapter 4 Las Vegas - Rust, 20 Years Old #2
When he reaches me, he doesn’t say a word. His thick, jewelry-adorned fingers dive into his pocket and he holds out a business card.
My heart stops.
I recognize the embossed name immediately. In our time on the road, Tally and I heard it spoken in hushed whispers by other musicians like an urban legend. Like a prayer. They say any singer managed by Rex Dalton makes it big.
Is this creep really him?
Dalton’s voice comes like a hiss. “I saw you performing at the Last Exit last night.”
My throat goes thick. I want to say I would’ve remembered a guy like him at our show, but the Last Exit is a popular trucker bar. The place gets pretty crowded during happy hour even if nobody cares about the music, only the cheap beer.
“Your girlfriend has talent.” Dalton’s grin widens and I half expect his jaws to split like a snake.
I know other artists would give an arm and a leg to talk to this guy, but everything about him rubs me the wrong way. He reminds me of a vampire. The Nosferatu kind, not the interview kind.
“My wife,” I correct him.
“Well, your wife has talent… and a problem.” He points the smoldering end of his cigar at me. “You.”
My chest cracks.
“I’m gonna give it to you straight, boy. Country duos don’t sell. You’re a distraction from her path. Dead weight. You’re not even half the vocalist she is and your guitar skills are basic at best.”
This man is my self-doubt personified, morphed into a devil to confirm my worst fears. He’s an asshole, but he knows the industry and that’s his judgment:
I’m holding Tally back.
“But I’m generously offering you a choice,” he croons. With his other hand, he pulls a bundle of cash from his suit pocket.
Shit, I’ve never seen this much money.
“Break up with your pretty redbird, entrust her in my care,” he drawls. “An annulment is easy to get here in Vegas and I could even pull some strings for you. Tell her you don’t love her anymore. Vow to never speak to her again. Then I’ll make your country bumpkin a real star.”
I must’ve misheard.
Dalton blows smoke in my face as he tucks the bundle of cash into the front pocket of my shirt. I choke back a cough. “Consider this a consolation prize. An incentive to do the right thing. Ten thousand dollars, all yours.”
“You’re offering me money to break up with my wife?” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“All you have to do is disappear from her life and let her focus on her career.”
Anger breaks through my shock. I throw the cash at his feet. “Go fuck yourself.”
I make to head back to the room when Dalton catches me by the shoulder. A whiff of his sour cologne hits my nose and my stomach churns.
“But I thought you loved her?” he asks.
I rip myself free, spilling some ice onto the concrete. “Of course I love Tally! She’s my whole world!”
“Then you know you have to let her go.”
“No amount of money is worth losing her!”
Dalton tuts, dropping the stump of his cigar. “I had hoped you’d come to your senses, but you’re leaving me no choice.”
He slides a hand into his suit. I tense, expecting him to draw a gun, but what he says next is worse than putting a barrel to my skull.
Smirking, he takes out a fresh cigar and lights it. “If you refuse to break up with Tally, I’ll have her name blacklisted across the whole industry. She’ll never be a star. Then you can take her home and watch her spark wither away in a hillbilly trailer park in Kentucky.”
The bastard did his research on us. How long did he plan this?
Bitter helplessness coats my tongue and frost grows over my heart.
I can’t let Tally go back to Redbird Creek and her mean mama. Losing her dream would break her. No, it would kill her.
I have no choice.
Breaking up will hurt her now, but she’ll be better off without me. She’ll easily find a better man, somebody to lift her up and not drag her down.
What I feel doesn’t matter. I want her to have a good life.
“You win. I’ll do it,” I mumble, the words tasting of bile. Of defeat.
He lets out a satisfied hiss. “But don’t think you can play games with me, boy. If you ever tell her about our deal, I’ll take it all away from her again. I can make her rise and I can make her fall. Remember: her fate is in your hands.”
I kick the bundle of money and spit on it. “Take your dirty cash and leave. I want one last night with her.”
He puffs out smoke. “One night.”
“And Dalton…” I step toward him, raising my chin defiantly. “You better take good care of her. If I catch wind of you harming a single hair on her head, I’m gonna hunt you down. I’ll fucking kill you.”
He doesn’t bother to pick up the money before he turns his back, waving the cigar over his shoulder as he walks away. “Idle threats. What’s a country boy from Kentucky gonna do?”
My hands ball into fists. I hate that he’s right.
In a daze, I trudge to our room. I find Tally splayed out on the bed. Her full breasts almost fall out of her white lace bra and the soft curve of her generous belly spills over her matching panties. She’s beautiful enough to paint.
When she catches my pinched expression, she sits up. “Did something happen?”
“Sorry, Trouble. Damn ice machine wasn’t working right.” I force a smile and put the bucket of ice on the nightstand. Sitting next to her on the bed, I crush her to my chest “I’m so happy to be your husband.”
“Not as happy as I am to be your wife.”
I kiss her with tears in my eyes. “Do you understand how much I love you?”
She laughs. “Just as much as I love you. Forever and ever.”
I grab her shoulders, fingers digging in. “Then promise me you’ll never forget it.”
“Are you goin’ all sentimental on me?”
“I’m fucking serious, Tally.” I shake her softly and her eyes widen. “Promise. Please, promise me you won’t forget how much I love you.”
“Okay, yeah! I promise.”
I kiss her again as my heart shatters.
She’d never give up our relationship, not even for her dream, and that’s precisely why I have to hurt us both.
To allow my wife a shot at happiness, I have to push her away. Even if it kills me.