Places I’ve Never Been (The Bellamy Sisters #2)

Prologue

N othing lasts forever. Mattie Bellamy learned that lesson for the first time when she was eight years old, when she found out the hard way that parents weren’t invincible. Her mom was dead, and life would never, ever be the same.

The happily-ever-after of fairy tales never actually existed.

So Mattie focused on the fleeting moments of life and tried to capture them in words that she turned into songs that she and her sisters sang. It was her way of making sense of the world.

When her first boyfriend broke her heart, she wrote about it.

When her family sang for the first time on stage, she wrote about it.

When her father died, she wrote about it.

She processed all of her life experiences in notebooks that she carried with her everywhere so that if inspiration struck like a butterfly in spring, she could capture it before it flitted away.

Years later, she and her sisters had taken those songs and turned them into a life filled with the things she loved most in the world: travel, family, and music.

Then one day, the now world-famous pop sensations Bellamy Sisters sang the last note of the last encore of their last tour, not that she knew it at the time. Mattie led the way off stage, like she always did, followed by her sisters Piper and Della, still so high on the music that she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

Lizzie waited for them backstage with a face full of pride and love and joy. “That last song was perfect. Fantastic job, all of you.”

Mattie threw her arms around her sister and hugged her tight. “Thanks. You inspired it, so of course it is.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “I inspired a song about a man magnet?”

Piper laughed. “Pretty sure you’re the exact opposite of that.”

Mattie shook her head. “No, no, it’s her. Just because she’s always behind the scenes doesn’t mean she doesn’t like attention. It just means she doesn’t like certain kinds of attention.”

Della bounced by. “Dibs on the shower!”

Mattie tugged at Lizzie’s hand. “Come on. The wrap-up party is in an hour, and I can’t go smelling like this.”

It took thirty minutes to make it the short distance to the greenroom because people kept stopping them with high-fives, or questions about loading the trucks, or any number of small details.

Lizzie handled the logistics of focusing a small army of roadies the same way she’d handled everything for their family since their mother died. Lizzie was mother hen and cat herder, fixer of problems and cog in their family wheel. The Bellamy Sisters wouldn’t be anything at all without her, because it was Lizzie’s suggestion for them to step onto that first stage when they were kids.

While Lizzie wrangled the end of the tour into shape, Piper met with backstage-pass fans, posed for photos with a long line of autograph hounds, and gave a quick interview to the media about the end of their tour. She felt the most important part of their job happened after the show, behind the scenes. Without Piper, The Bellamy Sisters might be popular, but their fans wouldn’t feel like the extended family they were now.

Mattie and Della waved at the waiting fans and shook hands with roadies along the way to the greenroom. Mattie loved the music, but she found the one-on-one interactions exhausting. Della treated the backstage antics of fans and roadies just like she did everything else in her life—with enthusiasm. She found joy, on or off the stage, simply being around people, but she didn’t feel the need to linger with them the way Piper did.

Della and Mattie managed to make it to the greenroom, shower, and get mostly dressed by the time Lizzie and Piper showed up.

Lizzie flopped down onto the couch with a loud sigh of relief. “Can’t believe the tour is done. I’m going to sleep for a month. Two months maybe.”

“No time for that,” Piper said as she peeled off her sequined vest and tossed it aside. “We have a new album to work on.”

Della bopped back and forth in front of them like an excited Chihuahua. “I have something to tell you.”

Mattie sensed something more than normal post-show excitement in Della’s tone. “What’s going on?”

“Can it wait?” Piper said as she peeled off her skintight stage pants. “Some of us still need showers. ”

Mattie gave Lizzie a quizzical look. Lizzie looked as confused as Mattie felt.

“I need to tell you this before I explode.” Della shook out her hands and bounced on her tiptoes. “Come on, it’ll just take a second.”

Piper flicked her hand in a hurry-up gesture.

Something flickered across Della’s face. Doubt? Anxiety?

Mattie knew in that fraction of a second that she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear.

“I signed with Self Evident Records,” Della blurted. “They’re going to produce my first solo album.”

White noise filled Mattie’s ears. Time slipped sideways. The surreal moment stretched and twisted and bent around Della’s shining face until she looked like a character in a cartoon.

Della continued to bounce and smile, as excited as she was the day they’d gotten their first puppy. “Finally, finally , I’ll be taken seriously. I’ll get to do stuff with more edge, more adult . I can’t wait.”

Mattie tried to process what she was hearing. Her youngest sister had always been the center of attention, both in their family and on stage. When people thought of The Bellamy Sisters, they pictured Della first. Mattie had always known that, and it didn’t bother her. All that mattered was the music. But her thoughts raced ahead to the next logical step on this roller coaster her sister had just thrust them onto without consent: Della couldn’t go solo and still be a Bellamy Sister.

With one stroke of a pen and a flippant announcement, Della had changed their careers forever, and she hadn’t even talked to them before she’d done it.

Just like that, life as they knew it was over.

The future stretched out like an enormous blank wall that Mattie couldn’t climb, couldn’t go around, couldn’t see through.

If they weren’t The Bellamy Sisters anymore, what were they?

Mattie exchanged looks with Piper and Lizzie.

Della’s smile faltered. “Well? Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”

Piper found her voice first. “You can’t be serious.”

Della stopped pacing next to one of the dressing tables and thrust out her chin in the defiant way she’d done ever since she was a toddler. “I signed the papers yesterday.”

“Yesterday.” Lizzie’s voice was breathy and high pitched, not at all like her usual take-charge tone. “Renic signed you yesterday? How long has he been talking to you about this?”

“This is bullshit,” Piper’s voice rose, loud enough to make Mattie wince.

“Why?” Della glared at Piper. “Why is it bullshit, Piper? Because you didn’t think of it first?”

“Because you didn’t think at all .” Piper squared off in front of Della. “You never think about anything but yourself, you spoiled, selfish brat.”

“Let’s just…everybody, calm down.” Lizzie raised her hands in a placating manner. “Before someone says something they really regret.”

Piper whirled to face Lizzie. “You know this is the most self-centered thing she’s ever done, and that’s saying something considering it’s Della. She’s just wrecked all our lives without even asking us. Without telling us anything. This is what happens when you treat someone like they’re the baby. They act like one.”

“Hey!” Della shoved Piper.

Lizzie stepped in between the two. “Back off. Both of you.”

Mattie felt like she was moving through a molasses- filled nightmare. One word kept circling around her brain until finally she found her own voice. “Why?”

Della swiveled in Mattie’s direction. “Why? Because finally I’ll be treated like an adult. I’m tired of always having to be what everyone else wants me to be. Renic says if we keep going the way we’ve been going, I’ll be stuck as a pop princess forever. I’m more than this. We are.”

“More than what?” Piper’s voice rose. “More than us? You just kicked what we’ve built together to the curb with no more thought than you’d give to spitting out a used piece of gum. Did you think about how the fans will take this at all?”

“Piper…Della,” Lizzie said in her soothing Mom tone that she used whenever they squabbled as kids. “We all need to calm down.”

Piper and Della didn’t even notice.

“And stop blaming Renic. This has your selfish fingerprints all over it.” Piper’s voice was rough and low, and her eyes flashed with dangerous light.

The tension was so thick Mattie found it hard to breathe. “Hey…you guys…can we just talk about this?”

She might as well have been invisible.

Piper and Della sparred like this every now and then over the years, but underneath the bickering was a firm foundation of love and support. Piper and Della weren’t just sisters, they were best friends.

But now Mattie could feel that bedrock crumbling with every word. The pieces of it broke off and dragged her down, down, down with them.

Della lifted her chin in defiance, oblivious to the pain behind the anger in her sister’s eyes. “You’re just jealous that I have the guts to make a big change and you don’t. You’ve always been jealous of me. You can’t stand it that my voice is better than yours. I always get the spotlight, and it drives you crazy.”

Mattie gasped. She covered her mouth with both hands, but it didn’t stop the pressure that built in her chest.

“Della!” Lizzie’s voice was sharp and stern. “You don’t mean that. You know you don’t. Both of you take a breath and back off.”

“Yes, she does,” Piper said. Her voice was rough and thick and nothing like her normal rich alto. “Look at her. She means every word. Hell, she’s probably been planning that speech for years. I have news for you, little sister, I wouldn’t have to fight for a spotlight if you knew how to share. And if your voice is so damn perfect, why do the fans always want to interview me instead of you? If you knew how to make a genuine connection, you wouldn’t need to go solo.”

“Please…” Mattie clutched her throat. It felt like someone was choking her from the inside out. “Please stop fighting.”

Della breathed like she was in the middle of a difficult dance number. Piper’s dig had struck a deep nerve. “Oh bite me. I don’t need to go solo, I want to because I’m sick of you constantly dragging me back into the shadows just so you can steal the glory. I’m sick of having to twist into knots so you feel special too.”

Piper’s head jerked back as if she’d been slapped. From the look in her eyes, there would be no coming back from this fight.

“Screw you, Della,” Piper snarled. “Someday you’ll wake the hell up and realize what you did today, and you’ll come crawling back to us, crying about how sorry you are. I’m telling you now. Don’t bother. As far as I’m concerned, we aren’t sisters anymore. I don’t even know who you are. You’re a goddamn stranger. ”

Piper snatched a pair of pants and a shirt off the rack and stalked out.

“Piper, wait!” Lizzie reached out, but she was too late. The door slammed shut behind Piper, leaving the three of them staring at it in silence.

Mattie shuddered and gasped, but the pain in her chest wouldn’t let her breathe. Her family was broken, and she wasn’t sure the pieces would ever be mended.

“Bitch.” Della whirled away from the door. “She always has to have the last word. She’ll get over it.”

“You really don’t know what you’ve done, do you?” Lizzie sounded incredibly sad, and the devastation etched lines on her face, making her look older.

Della bit her lip. “I know what I’m doing. I’m not an idiot, and I’m not as naive as you all seem to think I am. Renic has plans for all of us. If she hadn’t been so pigheaded I would have explained the rest of it. This will work out great, you’ll see.”

Mattie couldn’t tell if her sister really believed what she was saying, or if she was trying to convince herself. Something tense and desperate bubbled underneath all that bravado. Della wasn’t as happy as she appeared to be and probably hadn’t been for a long time. Maybe since Dad’s funeral. That was when Della’s sunny disposition had seemed to tarnish, but Mattie hadn’t been able to offer her the support she needed because her own heart had been so devastatingly broken.

The last three years had been rough, but the music pulled them through. At least, she thought it had. Now she wasn’t so sure. All the things they left unsaid had festered and spoiled all the good things.

“I don’t give a crap about what Renic has planned. This thing that you two cooked up just split up our family .” Lizzie’s voice broke on the word family. “We became The Bellamy Sisters together . We made music, we toured the country, we grew up together . And now we won’t be together anymore. Do you get that?”

Mattie covered her face. The silent tears converted to sobs she just couldn’t stop. She couldn’t take this. It was her father’s death, all over again, only this time there was no car accident, and no drunk driver to blame. The only thing she could blame was her sister, and she didn’t want to do that.

“This is stupid,” Della said. Her voice was thick now, too. “We’re still sisters. We can’t change that, no matter what Piper says. It’s genetics.”

“If you really believed that, then why didn’t you talk to us about this first?” Lizzie’s arm shook as she put it around Mattie’s shoulders. “I always knew you were a little too focused on yourself, Della. I just never realized you were so…so…cruel. It’s not like you. You can’t go through with this.”

“I already did.” Mattie heard Della move closer. “Mattie…you get it, don’t you?”

Mattie lowered her hands and met Della’s gaze through a haze of tears. “No.”

Della huffed out a breath. Her face was blotchy, and there were tears in her eyes now, too. “Come on. You have loads of songs nobody will ever hear because Dream Works and Omega won’t let us record them. They don’t fit our brand.” Della stretched out the words with the snotty undertone of a spoiled child. “Don’t you think they deserve to be heard? You always say how sad it is, all those words going to waste.”

“I didn’t mean this.” Mattie blinked, but the tears wouldn’t stop. She wasn’t sure they ever would. “I told you, the songs that really matter are the ones we sing together. Without us, they’re just empty words.”

Della pressed her lips together and wrapped her arms around herself. “Renic says this will open doors for all of us. You’ll see. ”

“Renic.” Lizzie gripped Mattie’s shoulders so tight she thought they might break. “This is his fault. We’re going over there and fixing this. Now.”

No.” Della dropped her gaze to the floor and sniffed. “There’s nothing to fix. It’s done.”

“No it’s not.” Lizzie glanced at Mattie. “Do you want to come with me?”

Mattie shook her head. She was too numb to do much else.

Lizzie picked up her purse. “I’ll see you guys at the party.”

Mattie almost called her back. Nothing Lizzie did would fix what had just happened, and nothing would ever be the same again. But she knew Lizzie had to try, for her own sake. She was their problem solver and their rock. But it wasn’t going to work this time.

Mattie sensed that as sure as she sensed when a song would hit big. It was just something she knew , deep down, in the pit of her stomach. Nothing Lizzie could say to Renic would change or fix what had just ripped apart.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. She felt so lost and alone that she thought she might drown.

Della touched her arm. Her eyes pleaded for understanding. “You get why I did it, don’t you, Mattie?”

“No.” Mattie struggled to make her voice come out steady. “But I guess I don’t need to. As you said, it’s done. The door is closed on what was. It’s true, nothing gold can stay.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Della sat next to her to pull on white tennis shoes trimmed with sparkling laces.

“It’s a poem by Robert Frost. It means things change, and all things end. Nothing stays the same forever.” Mattie sighed, but the pain in her chest remained. “If this is what makes you happy, then clearly that’s the only thing that matters.”

A hint of uncertainty flashed through Della’s eyes. Then it vanished, replaced by a spark of determination. “I am happy. You will be too. You’ll see.”

“I guess we all will,” Mattie said.

Her tears had slowed, and the deep, stabbing pain in her chest had dulled to an ache she had a feeling would be around for a long time. She picked up her purse, and walked out, leaving Della behind in the empty dressing room.

“I should have known,” she told the air. “Nothing lasts forever. Not even us.”