Chapter 24
24
KATRINA
F reddie trembles beneath my fingers, notes echoing all around as I play the same song over and over again. I already know our new material by heart. I could easily perform it on a stage tonight if required—but as Jordan says, it’s one thing to be prepared. It’s another to be ready.
I don’t feel ready. Not yet.
So, I practice. I play the same tune until it becomes a part of me. That’s how Criminal Records has always done it, and that’s how we’ll win the Battle of the Bands against...
My fingers falter, the song cutting off abruptly.
That’s how we’ll win against The Electrics.
But should we?
I sit in silence, my hands hovering an inch above the keys. Of course, we should win. Right? We never asked for this. All we’ve ever wanted was to play our songs and inspire people. It’s people like Paul Monroe who interfered, who used their influence to manipulate us, to get what they want. We’re defending ourselves. Winning proves we’re not to be messed with.
We want to win.
I want to win.
But do we need to?
We have a lot riding on this, Logan said. More so than you do, and I’m not saying that for your pity or your mercy. It’s just fact.
The vibration of my phone snaps me from my thoughts. I pick it up off the piano bench, flipping it over to read Addison’s reply.
Addison
Not tonight. Harvey and I are going to see that new Bruckberg flick.
I bite my cheek, disappointed. Though, with the way things have been going lately, not exactly surprised no one wants to hang out.
Katrina
That’s okay. A night in with a hot bath and Melanie Rose will suffice.
Addison
I set my phone down with a sigh.
Here lies Katrina.
All alone with no one to?—
The doorbell rings.
Again.
And again.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Knockknockknockknock—
I bolt off the piano bench and hurry to the entryway.
“Ka-triiii-na!”
I push the curtain aside, peeking through the front door window…
Straight into the beaming faces of The Electrics.
Tesla and Goldie stop pounding on the door to grin at me. They’re both clad in similar corsets over flowing skirts. Tesla is a vision in sapphire blue, hers hugging her torso like liquid metal. A black skirt flows down from her waist, contrasted with thigh-high boots that lace up the front. She looks like a classic rock goddess who moonlights as a sorceress.
Goldie shines as a mischievous carnival queen, ready and willing for anything. Her golden curls cascade over one shoulder. Her corset is a bold yellow shade, cinched tight over a black lace blouse with a short layered skirt to match.
And then there’s Logan.
He stands behind them, all in black. Distressed jeans, a fitted T-shirt, and a leather jacket that clings to his shoulders in all the right ways. His hair tousled. Artfully messy in ways that make me want to reach out and run my fingers through it.
His smirk touches his eyes; blue eyes that pop with black eyeliner.
“Trick or treat!” the girls shout in unison.
I unlock the door and ease it open. “What’s going on, guys?” I glance past them, scanning the street in case any nosy neighbors are watching.
“We’re going out!” Goldie declares, her perfectly coiled curls bouncing.
“And you’re coming with us,” Tesla follows.
I glance at Logan. He says nothing, his smile digging deep.
“I am?” I ask.
Goldie pushes past me into the house. “Hey, you got any food?” she asks.
I shift back, already realizing a fight would be futile. “Not really,” I call after her. “But… help yourself, I guess.”
Tesla and Logan step inside. He shuts the door as Tesla links arms with me, her sapphire-blue corset gleaming beneath the lights. “Please say you’ll go,” she says as she bats her painted eyes.
“Well, first, tell me where you’re going, and then I’ll decide if I’m going.”
“Halloween carnival! A big one just opened up off The Strip.”
“Uh-huh.” I nod slowly. “They do that every year.”
“We figured we’d go, hang out, get some funnel cake or something. Maybe jump-scare piss ourselves in a haunted maze. See what happens.” She shrugs. “And we’re celebrating.”
“Celebrating what?”
“You, silly!”
I tilt back, glancing past her at Logan again. Still, he says nothing, his eyes alight with silent amusement.
“Why me?” I ask.
Tesla blinks twice. “We always celebrate new friends. Bedroom upstairs?”
“Uh, yeah, but?—”
Tesla takes off, a garment bag swinging at her side as she bounds up.
I quick-step to follow, only for Logan to reach out, his grip light as it curls around my wrist. “You don’t have to come,” he says. “Scaredy cat like you probably isn’t too fond of Halloween shenanigans.”
“Yeah, no. Not so much,” I say.
“I wanted to take them out for at least one night of spooky fun before we’re locked in rehearsal hell until the Battle. Whose idea was it to schedule it on Halloween again?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there when you guys agreed to it. In jail,” I add with a smile.
“Damn. Well, let’s blame Knox, then.”
I chuckle. “All right.”
“Anyway, they insisted we invite you along.”
I nod absently, my attention torn between Goldie raiding my kitchen and Tesla invading my bedroom.
Logan touches my chin, tilting my face toward his. “You don’t have to come,” he says. “But I want you to.”
I meet his gaze, feeling helplessly lost in the deep blue of his eyes. “You do?”
“I like spending time with you.”
“I… like spending time with you, too.”
“But?”
“But…” I swallow hard. “The Strip’s annual Halloween carnival? That’s pretty public, Logan.”
“More so than a night at the Sin and Sand?”
“Maybe. Considering the talking-to I got over the media frenzy that followed last time, can you blame me?”
“Ah, so…” Logan smirks. “It’s not the fun your people disapprove of. It’s the people you’re having fun with.”
I crack a smile. “Obviously.”
“Well, as I said, you don’t have to come. You can stay home like the perfect angel you are and polish your halo for the night.” His gaze darkens, turning devious. “Or… you can come out with me and break a few more of those silly rules of yours.”
I bite my cheek, the temptation sharp.
“I ran into your brother today.”
I blink. “You did?”
“We ended up in an elevator together at the hotel. He was… not happy to see me.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. Well, he threatened me a bit, but otherwise?—”
“He threatened you?!”
Logan shrugs, completely unbothered. “If you so much as look at her again, I will end you. His exact words.”
My mouth sags. “I’m sorry he did that.”
“Are you?”
“Of course,” I say, noticing the shift in his eyes. “He had no right to?—”
“He also said you wouldn’t care,” Logan says. “That you hate the media around us. That being associated with us at all is… cringe.”
“Cringe?”
He nods.
“He said I said that?”
“Did you?”
“No,” I say. “I didn’t, Logan. Knox was just… I don’t know what he was doing, but it’s not true!”
“Seems obvious to me what he was doing.” Logan leans in. “Big brother’s trying to rein you in. Keep control of you.” His head tilts. “You gonna let him, kitty?”
I pause.
“Ka-triii-na!” Tesla calls from halfway down the stairs. “You coming or not? I’ve got a surprise for you!”
I look back at Logan, his eyes full of intrigue, urging me to choose dare over truth.
I exhale. “Sure. I’m coming.”
Tesla claps twice. “Yay!” She disappears back up the stairs.
I take two steps forward, then pause, swiveling back to Logan with a nervous point toward the kitchen. “Can you check in on?—”
“Yes,” he says before I can finish, already marching toward the kitchen to find Goldie.
I follow Tesla up the stairs, my skin prickling with anger, confusion, and rebellion.
Knox.
What the hell ? —?
Ugh, never mind.
I push it away, taking determined strides into my bedroom. Tesla’s bright blue mane flashes across the room as she rummages through my bathroom drawers.
“A-ha!” She lifts a tube of lipstick triumphantly, grinning at me in the mirror. “I knew you had to have something red.”
She sets it beside my usual eyeshadow palettes and mascara, then turns to me with an expectant look.
“What are you doing?” I ask, more curious than annoyed.
She smirks. “I made you something.”
“What?”
Tesla gestures toward the garment bag hanging on the back of my bathroom door. “Now,” she says, unzipping it, “this might feel unlike your style at first, but do me a solid and just trust me.”
She opens the bag with a flourish, revealing a dress.
The bodice is a black corset, laced with ribbons of deep jade green, cinching tight to sculpt curves I rarely think about. The skirt is short, flirty, made of deep green velvet—a fabric I instantly recognize from the dress she snatched off the rack for me at the thrift store.
I gasp. “Tesla, it’s beautiful.”
“It’s yours.”
“Mine?” I hesitate, glancing at the short hem. “Oh, I don’t?—”
“I told you to trust me, remember?” Tesla slides the dress from the bag and holds it up. “You’re going to slay in this thing, babe. Guarantee it.”
I take it from her carefully, holding it against my body, but I can’t quite picture myself in it. I’ve never worn anything like it before.
And deep down, a tiny voice—a voice shaped by years of rules and restrictions—whispers that I shouldn’t.
“It’s beautiful, Tesla,” I say again. “But…”
“But what?” she asks, tilting her head.
I lower the dress, smoothing the soft velvet against my arm. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you guys being so nice to me?”
Tesla blinks, then laughs. “Why wouldn’t we be nice to you? Because you’re in Criminal Records?”
“Well… yeah.”
“Honey, we love Criminal Records!” She rolls her eyes like I’m clueless. “I damn near broke my index finger a few years ago trying to play Power Play . Your girl Addison is a monster! And Goldie?” She grins, lowering her voice. “Don’t even get her started on Bronson’s drum solo in Holler at the Back —unless you wanna hold her foot down all night ‘cause she won’t stop tapping it.”
I stare, taken aback.
“Even Logan hums Down Down Baby sometimes when he thinks no one’s listening.” She shrugs. “We love you guys. Sure, Logan’s got his beef, but that’s just pride. All men got weird hang-ups about pride. But real respect? That’s where it’s at. And we respect you.”
I exhale a laugh, some of the tension in my chest unwinding. “Wow.”
She tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear; her gaze turning softer. “And… Logan likes you. And we like Logan. We want Logan to be happy. And you … you make him happy.”
My breath catches. “I do?”
“Very.” Tesla grins. “Now, put on the damn dress.”
I step out of my bedroom twenty minutes later in a pair of jet-black heels I haven’t worn in a year. My fingertips graze the flared velvet skirt as I move, hyper-aware of the corset cinching me in, shifting my posture, sculpting me into something… different.
Beautiful. Strong.
Rebellious.
And I like it.
Tesla skips down the stairs ahead of me, announcing my arrival. “You guuuys ,” she calls, her voice sing-song. “Check her out!”
Goldie looks up from the couch, her jaw instantly dropping as she smiles. “Damn, girl,” she says, adding a whistle. “You look nice!”
And Logan?
He just stares.
Goldie waves a hand in front of his face. He takes too long to snap out of it. When he does, he clears his throat, brushes her hand away, and rises to his feet.
“I think he likes it,” Goldie teases, throwing me a wink.
Logan steps closer, his gaze never leaving me. “You look stunning,” he says.
Heat flutters through my chest. “Thanks.”
Goldie huffs impatiently. “Can we go now?” she asks.
Tesla shushes her with a slap to the arm. “Let me have this,” she whispers, her eyes locked on us.
“Yes, we can go,” Logan answers her, smirking as he offers me his hand. “Shall we?”
I stare at his palm, my stomach coiling around the point of no return.
It’s just one night of spooky fun. No big deal.
Just one night of bending the rules. Of stepping outside the lines.
Of being someone other than myself.
I take Logan’s hand.
“We shall,” I say.