Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
JC
I’m stumbling down the hall backstage, soaked with feelings of all kinds, painfully alive with them. My heart is beating uncomfortably fast. I need out. I need space—to put as much distance as I can between me and this night of living hell.
Gia, of all people, singing my song?
Stealing it.
And the cold in her eyes, the accusation deep within them. Like I had any fucking control over Amber showing up.
The hall ends at a faraway door, and I kick the panic bar, rushing into the clear cold. I take a deep, ragged breath and stare into the shadows. The world suddenly seems bigger and emptier. And too quiet as the door slams shut behind me, the roar of the crowd muffled to nothing.
Right now, the fans are blissfully unaware this interlude isn’t part of the show.
But if we’re not on stage soon, the mood will shift.
One hooligan is all it takes to start a riot.
Thing is, how do I walk out into the spotlight again?
My soul feels tarred black. Gia is a traitor, not an ally.
Not the woman I’m painfully, desperately in love with.
The door flies open with an explosive bang. Tai and Brady are practically falling over each other as they stutter to a stop. Their eyes sweep over me carefully, like I’m a vial of plutonium. Unstable, to be handled with caution.
“Hey, man.” Tai raises both hands, palms out in the universal “easy” gesture. “It’s cool. We’ll figure this shit out. But can you move away from the edge?”
The raised deck we’re standing on is a ten-meter drop onto the parking lot. How great would it be to jump, to end these intense feelings? But no. That dramatic finality is not how I deal with this.
I put space between me and the ledge, muttering, “I’m not that messed up,” but they keep a respectful distance. Crazy might be catching.
“JC. Dude.” Brady sounds out of breath. A winded pirate in his ridiculous shirt. “What’s going down?”
I massage both temples, trying to ease the tension. “Sorry, guys. This is super screwed-up. Nothing to do with you.” It comes out meagerly, like I’m not the once legendary songwriter with the aura of Kurt channeled through Bono with a side order of Bruno Mars.
“So this wasn’t a pre-arranged stunt you two planned?” Tai’s voice carries no hope. He already knows the answer.
And there’s no time to reply, because Sawyer comes barreling out of the door next, a frazzled-looking Shae trailing behind him.
His head is on a frantic swivel, from the boys to me.
“Are you okay?” he asks, genuinely concerned, it seems. The giant dark wall of energy thrumming around me is unmissable.
“Not particularly.”
“Where the fuck is Gia?” he barks. “I swear, I’m going to–”
“Right behind you.”
Gia steps out, and there’s a bold steadiness to her voice, like how a sniper might apologize to you before they pull the trigger. But that doesn’t stop Sawyer from pouncing all over her.
“I just ditched the prime minister of Italy. Whatever insane explanation you have for why we’re out here freezing instead of on stage, it better be good.”
Gia folds her arms. “I’ll explain once someone escorts the crazy lady out of the building.”
Sawyer blinks. “Who are you talking about?”
Everyone bounces glances off each other. A creeping sense of déjà vu muscles around me. A parallel universe where, somehow, freakishly, two women who should never have crossed paths have spectacularly collided.
“Amber,” I say tonelessly. “Amber Devlin.”
Sawyer snaps his gaze to mine. The security light glares harshly into his face. “Your old drummer? What’s she doing here?”
“She’s his former lover,” Gia cuts in. “Trying to become current. Or…” She pins me with a look of pure fire. “Sign herself up to be the drummer in your new solo act.”
The air turns strange. There’s a brief moment during which everyone looks at Gia and me.
But my eyes lock on Sawyer, hoping I misheard that, that this can be something different from what it actually is.
He swore not to follow in Dad’s footsteps, but it's hard to fight against the weight of history.
“What the fuck is my new solo act all about?” I demand.
“Uhm…” Sawyer, the smooth talker, rarely at a loss for words, trails off like a fading sun just as a rising chorus of boos drifts through the door. It’s a tone of pending chaos that Shae unfortunately knows too well.
“Friends,” she interjects. “Appreciate that shit sometimes gets weird, but we gotta power through. The animals are going to freak out.”
“I’m not setting foot on stage until I get a straight answer.” I stare at Sawyer, both of us aware of the rough edge in my voice. “And if I don’t, my ass is on the next flight home.”
Gia flicks a tense look at Tai. “Tell him what you heard.”
Tai’s gaze drops to the concrete. “Gia…”
“Is anyone on my side?” Gia yells into the sky. “Spill or walk away for good.”
That gets a guilty flicker of Tai’s lashes. His shoulders hunch, like he’s trying to make himself very small. “We weren’t spying,” he claims. “We showed up early tonight for a drink and overheard Sawyer’s conversation with the promoters. To hype JC’s return. Use our band as leverage.”
I catch Sawyer’s expression shift. “Is that true?”
He scrapes a hand over his hair, eyes darting between us. “I was, you know, talking up the possibilities.”
Brady says quietly, “We heard it all, dude.”
I’m conscious of some glittering thing in the distance before I close my eyes. “I told you the chance of my returning was zero.”
“Then why did you even agree to this?” Gia demands.
I laugh, a losing-it kind of laugh, and turn to face her, looking small in the big quiet moonlight. “Let’s talk about the real problem here. You played my song without my permission. That is artistic violation.”
Gia pauses for a second, and I feel a moment of triumph at having nailed the betrayal so bluntly.
“And you don’t think I felt violated with Amber blowing you a kiss?” she shouts back. She’s white with anger, tiny fists balled at her sides. “You said you handled her. That she wasn’t coming to any more shows.”
“I had that conversation,” I shout in reply. “And she chose to ignore it. What else can I do? Follow up? I told you I have no interest in her. She can fuck right off.” I punch the words in hard to shut Gia up.
“Amber let me down, and I prayed to God you wouldn’t do the same thing.
Why do you think it took me so long to share my feelings?
I have trust issues. And then you stab me in the back.
” My voice cracks, but I snap it steady to lay into her.
“Whatever happened to musicians who don’t steal from each other?
Your disregard for rules and boundaries is the real problem.
You have your kingdom, and you want to be the sole ruler.
Just like your mother and Father Anderson said. Screw everyone else.”
“That’s not true.” Gia squirms, all eyes on her.
I throw up both hands in frustration. “Of course it is! I mean, Jesus. You want to fine your bandmates for having sex, but you can do whatever you want.”
“Hey, man,” Tai cuts in, sensing we’re veering off-course. “That’s water under the bridge.”
“Is it?” I snort a laugh. “To me, that’s selfish.”
“Me, selfish?” Gia has a stubborn set to her chin. “I haven’t lied to you. You said you had no clue who Amber was, and then you’re sticking your tongue down her throat. You might as well throw out a red carpet that leads to your bed. Give her a crack at another baby.”
The words land like a bomb. Gia has a beautiful voice, even when she’s unleashing fire and brimstone. But did she just say that out loud? This nightmare is suddenly everyone’s.
“Baby?” Sawyer echoes. “You two were together?”
“Yes.”
And with one simple word, the floodgates I’ve been holding on to crash open. “Couldn’t share that news, or all the fangirls would revolt. How would Trenton Talent Management survive? The great Peter Trenton’s son couldn’t screw the business.”
Sawyer stares blankly at me, like he’s waiting for the punch line. Is this a joke he isn’t in on? “Dad knew?”
“He figured it out.”
More silence. And an endless amount of confusion on Sawyer’s face. “Is there a kid I don’t know about?”
“No,” I say flatly, even as my heart pitches. “She miscarried.”
The corner of Sawyer’s mouth twitches. He’s quick to put two and two together. “Is that why you killed the band?”
I spread out my arms. Might as well adopt a Jesus pose because it feels like a personal crucifixion. “The big mystery of JC Trenton revealed. Does anyone—”
“Shit,” Sawyer interrupts. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I told Rhys. He’s the—”
“Rhys?” Sawyer cuts in.
“Can I please reach the end of my thought?” I shout. “Sawyer. Brother. I love you. But please, shut the fuck up! For once.”
Brady and Tai shuffle sideways like crabs, out of the range of fire. Gia’s eyes have slipped to mine, all nervous and concerned. I don’t lose it. Not ever.
I catch another glimpse of something flashing above me on the roof. Vague shapes, mixed in with thick layers of shadows. Someone with a phone? The hairs on the back of my neck rise.
I should pay more attention to that, but Shae makes a big production of clearing her throat.
“I’m heading inside,” she says. “Fifteen minutes, okay? Not sure we have more than that.”
“Get rid of Amber first,” Gia says pointedly.
Shae adjusts her ballcap. “What does she look like?”
“The corporate-looking blonde. Stage left. Only freak show in a blazer.”
Shae side-eyes Sawyer, who mutters, “Get it done with minimum fuss.”
“And,” Gia continues, spitting sparks, “tell her to stay the fuck away from the rest of the tour.”
Sawyer whispers, “Jesus Christ,” and sounds worn out. One minute, he’s flying high with politicians, then he's dragged into messy band politics, which, arguably, suck more than actual politics.
Shae scurries inside, Brady and Tai jumping at the opportunity to exit stage left with her. Sawyer waits for me and Gia, but she waves him on. “Can you give us a minute?”
“No,” I head to the door Sawyer’s already walking through, “I don’t want to talk. We have a show to finish.”
I motion for her to get a move on, but she remains glued to the concrete. Looking very much like a twenty-year-old hit by a shit-filled truckload of her own doing. Somewhere beneath us, a bunch of roadies are laughing, their cigarette smoke stinking up the air.
“Can we hit rewind?” Her voice is the quietest it's ever been. “Forget this fuck-up. Sorry, times eight million. It won’t happen again.”
I shake my head at her attempt to brush this under the rug like it’s nothing. “It has happened. And you put it in motion. Let’s go.”
Gia takes a tentative step toward me. “Is this because I said I loved you?”
I stare up at the sky, laughing. Of all things. If only it were that simple. “I think you’ve confused your love for my song with your love for me.”
“I'm not confused in the slightest,” she says, her voice gathering steam. “I’m fully lucid and above board, unlike someone else I know. Why didn’t you tell me the song was about us?”
I sigh, feeling like I’ve reached my breaking point. “I planned to. Wanted to get through this tour first. See where we landed before I bled my heart all over the floor.”
I turn to face her, looking deep into her eyes as she processes just how real and weighty my feelings are. “And are you really that blind, Gia? I’m so in love with you that it scares the shit out of me. But now that I know the queen can’t handle the simplest request, fuck it. I’m out.”
Her face registers this slowly. She starts chewing on her thumbnail and asks in a small voice, “Out of the band, or my life?”
I don’t say what I’m feeling. I don’t say anything, and she must know what that means.
She brushes past me with a brusque, “Fine,” and yanks open the door.