Second Sets Omnibus

Three - Kieran

“ Why the tears, River Blue?" I murmur, rage brewing through my veins at the sight of her shaking shoulders.

My fingers curl when her big, moss-green eyes look up at me, glistening with tears. We had just met up on the hill behind the apartment complex—our daily meeting spot.

"Stupid Stacey again," she says, clenching her fists tightly together. One day, I'll show my girl how to use those fists against everyone who decides to put their hands on her.

"You want me to take care of Stacey?" I ask in a low voice, as violent images roar through my mind. I'll rip that girl's head off. I don't care if she's in first grade and I'm in third.

"No." Her answer is simple and to the point, like she always is.

I scrub a hand down my face when I waltz out the bar's back door and head down the dark alleyway toward the SUV parked in the back. A faint sense of nostalgia hits me hard as I make my way through the shadows of the night. Being back on this side of town brings so many emotions flooding to the surface, even if I fight them off at every turn. For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived on the greener side of town, never venturing into the dark stain of Central City—where I grew up. It’s a vague memory nestled in the back of my mind. One I had forgotten for many years. After losing a piece of myself here when I had to leave her behind, I shoved the memories into my deepest, darkest part and incinerated them for eternity.

After my mother moved us away from the only place I had ever known, that’s when my real nightmare began. Each night I sat and cried, longing for the girl under the stars talking to the man on the moon. But I was stuck, beaten down, and verbally harassed by the new man in my mother’s life—my stepfather, Nigel Montgomery.

At ten years old, I could only handle so much. There comes a time when the beatings become too much, and you stop longing for the one person you crave. Instead, locking the happy memories away until they fade into nothing more than a vague idea.

Now, the memories pour through my mind like a dam bursting open and flooding my every waking thought. Flashes of River’s long brown hair hanging past her shoulders and flowing down her back. Those moss-green eyes glared at me when I entered her office, and the pinched look she gave me. Her delicate nose. Those dark eyelashes brushed against her freckled cheeks as her eyes hooded from lust. River Blue, the girl from my old life. The one girl I swore I'd never think about again. Or see again. The girl I forced myself to forget. River Blue was always River Blue to me, never River West. Fuck. I should have read the damn emails Callum wrote to the manager of this place. If I had just seen her name, I could have told them who she was to me—and now, to us.

But now, she's all I can think about as I make the walk of shame toward my friends. Shit. Heat burns my cheeks when I open the driver's door and sit without looking around.

“Oh! There he is! The man of the hour!” Rad whoops from the backseat, obnoxiously pounding his fist into the roof of my Tahoe, making it bounce on its wheels.

I grunt, starting up the SUV, and proceed to the mouth of the alley, waiting for the crowded sidewalks to thin out. Leaning back, I stare at the boys and idle the car.

For once, Gloria—the woman who begs me to call her mother—became reasonable when I asked for a larger car. In her eyes, it was a status symbol for the pot of gold at the end of our fucking suburban rainbow.

For me, though? It was a place to store and transport our instruments and the amps we’d bought ourselves over the years. Whatever we got from gigs went straight into our band’s bank account so we could afford new instruments, strings, picks, and sticks. We can provide whatever we need without running to someone for a loan. This band will be entirely ours, and I don’t want Gloria’s money tainting any of it. I’ve built this with my hands alongside the guys.

“You good?” Callum asks in his usual short words from the backseat, nervously averting his eyes.

Sweat sticks to every inch of the curly blond hair currently plastered to his forehead. His tired eyes watch out the window, taking in the passing patrons lazily walking down the sidewalks at two a.m.

"I read on Spaceface last night that there have been three attacks in the alleyways in the past three weeks, each getting progressively more violent," Callum mutters to the window, worrying his lip until his worry-filled eyes meet mine.

I raise my brow, turning to look at Callum, and shake my head. I'd hate to have a talent like Callum’s, where everything he sees, he stores in his head without effort. Some would kill for a photographic memory, but the cons greatly outweigh the pros. Every event—good or bad, stays with him for the rest of his life. Some would call it a gift, but Callum sees it as the ultimate curse. Especially after what he witnessed with his parents. And God, Jenny. He lost them all, and the only ounce he has left of them is the house he lives in and the enormous trust they left in his name, with stipulations that he lives there for two years before even thinking about selling or moving away from the house that brings him nothing but nightmares. Imagine walking through the halls of your family home and seeing the ghosts of your past staring back at you. I know he’s been counting down the days until he can cash in and move on—only five more months.

His gaze drifts up and down the bar, calculations running rampant through his genius, photographic mind. Ignoring us, he puts his earbuds back in and closes his eyes, peace washing over him. Whatever he's listening to drowns out his worries and settles his soul, but most of all, it takes away the memories of the worst night of his life. There's something about music that lifts us and connects us—whether we're making it or listening to it.

My fingers tighten on the damn steering wheel again until my knuckles turn white, but I offer him a cocky grin—one I don't feel. River fucking Blue. My River is the person we were after this whole time.

“You should know. You guys stood there the whole time,” I quip, glaring at Rad through the rearview mirror. He grins back at me and nods, giving me a look.

My stepbrother, Asher, snorts from the passenger seat. “Yeah, it seems like you had a fun time. But did you find what we were looking for?” He raises his brow, turning to examine my face.

Swiping away some of his unruly brown locks, his eyes zero in on the lump I swallow, showcasing my fucking nerves. My dear, stuck-up stepbrother is all business—all the damn time. He never lets up with his serious scowls, grunts, and whatever the fuck is going through his engorged head. He's intelligent, manipulative, and incorrigible at times—AKA—every fucking second he’s awake.

His eyes narrow in at me, and I blow out a breath, jerking the car into drive. There's no simple answer for what he wants.

Did I find answers? Unexpectedly, yes. Do I want to do this song and dance with him? No. Yes? Fuck. All I had to do was ask the manager to speak with the man we were emailing with before to get a glimpse of the person we needed in our pocket—River West.

My River Blue. And now it's gone to shit. Total fucking shit. I'm a mean ass bastard, but I still have a fucking heart—sometimes.

But if I think about it, it's only ever beaten for her. The only person who calmed my rage and swallowed my sadness, all at the same time. Fuck. How did I live my life without her for so long? And how could I have forgotten those big, moss-green eyes?

This could be our opportunity. Her being her, we could use that as our in with West Records or her brothers. She's a goddamn West daughter to the man who could sign us to an epic record deal. Having her in our back pocket could be priceless, especially when our goal is to blow out of this town and become rich and famous. The music industry is all about who you know; that person is River West. Her name could get us into any venue on the West Coast. No questions asked.

"My dad is mean," she murmurs, holding out an envelope.

"Your dad? Where is he?" I ask, lying back in the grass.

"He won't talk to me. I tried, Knight. I sent him a letter, and he sent it back." Water forms in her eyes when she stares at me, and her hope shatters.

"He doesn't deserve you, Blue," I whisper, setting a hand on hers.

No one deserves her except maybe me. That River is mine. She's always had my name stamped on her ass as Kieran's property. I may have lost her for the past eleven years, but now I'm here to reclaim what's mine. And what's mine is her.

“Yeah,” I say, pulling out onto the main road. At two a.m., not many cars travel alongside us as we head straight back to our little slice of suburban hell, ten minutes away from the edge of Central City.

“And? Did you find him?” Rad asks with a lazy grin, leaning back into the seat. "You know we need him.” He runs a hand through his mullet, massaging his scalp with his fingertips.

I scowl. Whoever told that idiot an 80s mullet was sexy must have been high. But he's been sporting it since I joined him in friggin middle school on the Lakeview side, where his mullet wasn't seen often but never made fun of. They would have been all over him and laughing if he was a Central kid. But not our middle school on the other side of the tracks, a stone's throw away from Central City, but yet so far away.

Hell, his mullet ass was my first best friend, introducing himself to me on my first day at a new fancy school. His grin alone drew me in and helped me feel comfortable after a hard night of shouts and fists in my face. The moment I stepped through Lakeview's doors, I wasn't looking for any friends. Asher tolerated me at best but meeting Rad was a game-changer.

"We have the talent. We don't need him," Callum murmurs, not bothering to remove his earbuds, which must be on low volume. Asher scoffs.

Rad continues his mini rant, blowing out the smoke from the joint resting between his fingers. "I sure as hell didn't see a damn thing except for all the desperate pussy in the crowd. You see Tessa's titties?" He grins at that, looking at Cal, who shakes his head, trying to hide the deep blush reddening his cheeks. “Aw, tiny tots Tessa," Rad barks out a laugh. "As soon as she raised her shirt, I swear little Rad shriveled away." He grunts, patting his junk playfully.

“Yeah, yeah. We had our fun. When will she learn?” I murmur, cringing at the "fun" we had a year back. It's nothing I'll want to revisit mentally or physically. No, my mind only has one prize now.

Callum snorts, not offering anything else as his eyes close, and he settles further into the seat.

Asher rolls his eyes, gritting his teeth so hard I swear I hear them crack. If he doesn't go for a run or fuck some chick soon, he'll implode. I may have suffered under my stepfather’s rule over the last eleven years, but Asher has suffered his whole life. Since the moment his mom overdosed and slipped into an early grave, Asher has taken the brunt of Nigel's abuse. Pounding the pavement is the only coping mechanism he's been using to soothe the anger surging through him.

Rad sighs. "You know that was the only reason we agreed to play at that shithole. It was your idea to find him,” Rad says with a huge grin. “Although, I kinda liked the vibe. It was emo and...”

“Fucking dirty,” Asher mumbles in irritation. “It was disgusting there. Do they call that a bar? It smelled terrible. It looked like...”

“God damn, Asher, my man! You’re one buzzkill after another!” Rad barks out, slapping Ash's shoulder and knocking him toward the window. “Lighten up! Do you think if we make it big, we’ll be playing in anything nicer along the way? We’re going to have to work our way up. Unless…” Rad smiles at me in the rearview mirror with a knowing look.

His brows raise, and he nods his head in understanding. He may look like an 80s burnout, but he is as bright as a fucking light with no filter.

Streetlights pass by, progressively getting fancier and fancier the further we get out of the near central part of town. The buildings get enormous and more ornate, letting me know we’ve officially made it back to the Lakeview District—our slice of hell. I swallow hard, my heart hardening in the center of my chest.

Tonight, we'll make hard decisions—decisions that will stick with us for the rest of our lives. Every day we don't have a plan in place, our desperation grows wilder by the second, and we're liable to do anything to get the fuck out of this shitty town. For years, our parents have waved off our aspirations as if they were mere pipe dreams impossible to achieve. And here we are, ready to prove to them it can happen.

“I sure as fuck didn’t see him. Not like I knew who the fuck we were looking for,” Asher mumbles angrily, contorting his stuck-up face. "Didn't see much of anyone but a bunch of Central chicks working the bar and front door."

If he wasn’t a competent guitar player and a master with his fingers, I’d have left my stepbrother to rot in the fucking suburbs, wallowing in his self-loathing. But alas, he plays like a fucking angel, even when he's a know-it-all fucking tool. Not that he's a bad guy by any means. Ash is cool when he's not bitching. Or being a stuck-up prick, which he does all the time, especially if shit doesn't go his way. I know, deep down, Asher Montgomery has my damn back like a real brother would. It may have taken us a while to get to this point, but I know he wouldn't lead us down the wrong path or lie to us. We're a damn family, the only family we have.

I sigh, staring through the windshield when we pull into the driveway leading to hell. A light pops on in the living room, and Gloria's pinched face peeks out. Her eyes narrow in on us, and she shakes her head, looking like she’s ready to rip us a new one for pulling in so late and disturbing her sleep. Already I hear the slew of words she'll sling in my direction the moment I walk through the door, criticizing me.

Seeing my mom's face is a stark reminder of who I'm loyal to—the assholes in this SUV. They may be loud, inconsiderate, and make me want to punch them, but they're my family. They're the ones I trust with my damn life. Family doesn't have to be blood; family is the people who see you at your lowest and help to raise you, not lower you down. And that's precisely what these dicks do.

River's bewildered face pops into my mind. I cringe, wiping my hand down my face. God, I'm such a prick after a performance. When the high of being on stage fades away, I always need another hit of euphoria. I always crash after the last note plays, and then I need the time to myself. Time to unwind and relax. Fuck! Why did this have to get so fucking complicated? I punch the steering wheel with a huff, throwing myself back into my seat.

I don't know River anymore. Anyone can change after eleven years apart. Before, she was an innocent angel mercilessly picked on. And now? She's a stranger to me. So, to hell with it all. I'll do something I might regret later, even though River is consuming my mind.

There's something about River that reels me in like a fish on a hook, drawing me into her orbit. Maybe it's our tainted history together. Those nights spent under the stars, spilling our guts, race through my mind calling me back to her. She's the girl I was forced to leave behind and forget at the hands of my stepfather. There's no way I can get River out of my mind. Not with her moss-green eyes burning through me when her luscious lips pop open. Or maybe it's her banging, tight body. Her perfect tits, fitting into my hand, draws me to her.

Now, I want her back, no matter the cost. This may be the only way I can have her without getting any grief. I'll make her mine.

I swallow hard. “River West isn’t some dude,” I say on exhale.

River West is my River Blue. Mine.

We've searched high and low for an entry into the infamous KC Club in East Point, California, where Seger and Zeppelin West, the famous twin sons of Corbin West, and River's brothers, frequent. They're always scouting for new talent to sign to their label. Getting into The KC Club is next to impossible if you don't know the right people, and we don't know anyone in the industry. Not yet at least.

My dick tightens in my damn pants at the thought of her pussy wrapped around me, and her moans echo in my ears. Her sass. Her fucking small curves. Shit, the way her ass bounced against my hips. Fuck. I’m ready to drop these dickbags off and head back to the outskirts of Central City to find River and tie her down. Does she still live in the same apartment from our childhood? Does she still like to eat those disgusting pink peeps dipped in milk? I swallow the obsession bobbing in my throat and threatening to pull me under.

"Come on, boy. You're going onto better things. Leave the trash behind," my new stepdaddy growls, bruising my arm by throwing me into the back of his SUV. "You're onto bigger and better things now."

I swallow hard, pressing my face into the window as the apartment complex becomes a blip and disappears. My heart breaks into a million pieces. River Blue, I need you. I watch until our new neighborhood comes into view, revealing enormous houses and a shiny lake glistening in the sun.

"Welcome home," the man says with a wide, evil-looking grin.

“What's that supposed to mean? We need him, man. He’s our one connection. He’s our in,” Ash says through gritted teeth. “If we don’t have West, we can’t get in with West Records or the damn exclusive venue. And if we don’t make it into West Records, we’re fucked. We need River West. Remember our goals? Getting out of this shit fuck town and leaving everyone behind? We need him.” Ash closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against the window to calm himself down.

Desperation ebbs from him in waves, and I get it. He's been through hell and back and wants nothing more than to run from this town and start over. Our plan is his saving grace—the one thing that's kept him going. Even if the guilt eats at me daily, I can't disappoint my family. Not now. But what they don't know won't kill them. I have no intention of letting her go. Whatever plan we cook up to get close, I'll keep her closer.

I close my eyes, resting the back of my head against the headrest. “River West isn’t a dude, you fucking morons. River West is the fucking manager chick,” I say, feeling my heart drop into the depths of my fucking stomach.

"Buzztit!" Rad gasps in mock horror and then mumbles about her forcing the tits into hiding and what a goddamn tragedy it was.

“The chick?” Asher gapes. “That chick is a West?” Once realization settles and the shock wears off, he menacingly rubs his chin.

Wheels turn in the depths of his overused brain, grinding to a halt when he comes to the same conclusion I have. We’ll have to befriend her, which means we'll have to be nice. Which shouldn’t be too hard for Rad and me, but the other two? They’re a different entity altogether.

Callum looks at us with calculating eyes and sits back in his seat, putting away his earbuds. "So, the manager who tore up our check and we watched you bone, is the West chick we need to get to the KC Club?" I nod in response. He sighs, running a hand down his face. "Well, this should be fun then," he mutters.

Something settles inside me, chasing away my demons at the thought of her. I couldn't agree with Callum more. It will be fun, and I'll reclaim what's mine.

“So, K, you got our in? Do you think she’d be down to help? Make the call?" Rad asks, leaning forward with hope glistening deep in his brown eyes.

I run a hand down my face. "You think the chick that ripped up our paycheck because I insulted her will roll over and call her estranged family to get us a gig at the KC Club?" I snark, raising a brow.

"My dad is mean," she whispers again, clutching another sent-back letter. "I just wanted to say hi," she says through a sniffle, wiping away the tears streaming down her face.

"He sent it back again? Why do you keep doing it?" I ask, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her in. If her mom is too busy sleeping and won't comfort her, I will. River needs me to help her cope with life, just like I need her.

"I won't anymore," she pouts, growling when she tears up the letter. "That's the last time Daddy will ever hear from me." And from that day forward, I never found River Blue crying over the man who didn't want her in the first place.

Pressing my palms into my eyes, I squeeze them shut, reveling in the vivid memories flowing through my mind. Over the years, I've erased every inch of where I came from—partially due to my stepdad refusing to let me call her or find her across town. Hell, I even tried to ride my bike to her once, but he stopped me within the first mile. Within the first month of living with him, I had a new wardrobe and a brand-new life. Ten-year-old me could never get what I wanted, and River slowly drifted into the past, beaten out of me.

"Don't even think about going back to that side of town," he hisses, heaving his fist in the air. Before I can blink, pain sears through my jaw, and blood spurts from my nose. My mother gasps from the corner of the room, held hostage to witness my punishment. The reality is that she wouldn’t lift a finger to help me, anyway. She’s here for only one thing—the rich lifestyle Nigel has afforded her.

As I lie motionless on the floor, only grunting when his foot collides with my ribs three times, I promise myself I'll forget about her. If this is what happens when I try to ride my bike across town, I'll never try again. I can’t take another fist or kick.

The pain sits with me through the night as I toss and turn, whimpering.

"You can't provoke him," my new stepbrother Asher whispers through the dark. I jolt at his voice, crying out when I sit up. "He'll only hurt you more." Shaking his head, he moves to the side of the bed and sits.

"Yeah?" I whimper, holding my aching ribs.

"Things will go smoother if you just do what he says."

"Is that what you do?" I whisper, earning a scoff.

"I do what I have to do. Now stop making so much noise so I can go to sleep," Ash grumbles, slipping into his bed.

Quiet overtakes the room, the only sound coming from the air conditioning kicking on, blowing across the blinds, knocking them together. Of all the rooms in this house, Nigel insisted we bunk together. Probably to keep a sharper eye on us and lock us together. He didn’t count on us forming a deep bond like brothers normally would.

"Kieran?" Asher asks in a soft voice.

"Yeah?" I rasp, wiping away the tears falling down my cheeks.

"You'll be okay. I promise he'll lay off for a few days," Asher whispers, thick with sleep. "Night."

"Night," I mutter, losing all hope I had before.

Seeing River tonight has knocked all the memories loose, and they're running rampant through my mind. I swore I'd forget about her, and I successfully had. Locking her away was the only way I could protect myself from the fury of fists. Eventually, it was like she had never existed, and I moved on with my new life.

The guys all look at one another with questioning gazes, finally landing on the man who apparently has the answers. Ash, ever the man with a fucking plan, grins like the fucking grinch. Too bad there's no way in hell his heart grew three times too big, probably the other way around, shrinking into a damn prune. If Asher has some diabolical plan to enact, it's no doubt evil and crazy.

"We could make her, you know? You already had your way with her. Did she like you?" Ash asks, studying my face with narrowed eyes again.

Fuck. I hate it when he plans like this and gives nothing away with his stony facial expression.

Blowing out a breath, I remember our heated exchange. I bite my bottom lip, imagining what River would look like dangling her pussy above my face and me ready for a damn feast. What would she taste like coating my tongue? Probably fire and vanilla all mixed into one explosion of taste. What I wouldn’t give to stick my tongue deep in her pussy and make her cum all over my tastebuds. But shit, River isn't one to be pushed around. She isn’t going to drop to her knees and do our bidding without incentive. Not now. River Blue isn't the same girl I left eleven years ago. She's a fiery fucking treat, and I want another bite of what's mine. And this time, I'm playing for keeps.

"I don't think you could make that girl do shit," I sigh, shaking my head. "She's not the type to sit back and take orders. River needs our trust."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Rad sighs. “We need this, man. I need out of this fucking place. My mom is driving me fucking bonkers begging me to conform to what Dad wants from me. And I'll be fucked over a pulpit before I do that. I'm my own damn man, damn it.” His fists clench in his lap as his eyes drift toward the very house of horrors he escaped and rebelled against when he was just eighteen. Taking one last drag of his joint, Rad tosses it out the window.

Being stuck in a place, financially held hostage by the people who are supposed to love you burns me from the inside out. This car? My phone? My college education? Everything I own, my stepfather taints with his existence, dangling it over our heads. We've tried and tried again to get jobs and further our financial situation. But every step of the way, he's there to knock us on our asses and keep us in his grasp—where he wants us. The only sanctuary we're granted is the music that keeps us alive. According to Nigel, music will get us nowhere in life. Therefore, we can enjoy the ride until our time is up and he needs us to clock into his company—one year. We have one year to get this music thing off the ground, and we're growing desperate.

“I feel your fucking pain,” I grunt, gesturing to the woman stalking our every move from the living room window.

Her beady eyes take in every fucking thing we do. Down to the spent joint sitting in her driveway. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll hear about that later through her screeching wails and fucking disappointment. So, yeah—I feel his pain. We all have our reasons for wanting to escape this fucking hell.

"Fine then, we coerce her into doing whatever the fuck we want. I think we can manage that. We’re all charming as hell. And we want a gig at her brothers’ famous bar, where stars are born. Our name will be in fucking lights. We're destined for that shit..." Asher nods, so fucking sure of himself that we can convince her to help us pursue happiness. Right. Yeah. This will totally fucking work. Considering she probably hates me.

"You left without saying goodbye."

Her words are a punch to the gut. Yeah, I left without a word, basically kidnapped by the man I now call dad. If I could have gone back, I would have. I tried. But he was always there to remind me with his fist that there was no going back to the neighborhood I grew up in.

"And how the hell do you expect to coerce her? She's not exactly the type," I grumble. From the looks of it, she’s tough as a fucking nut now and won’t take our shit lying down. “You can’t make a chick like that do anything but what she wants.”

Asher grins over at me, slapping me on the side of the cheek. "Exactly! I’ve got a plan," he says with confidence, rubbing his hands together. “What’s the one thing a woman will do for the man she loves?”

I raise a skeptical brow, looking back to Rad, who shrugs a shoulder. “No idea,” I say, looking at Ash, who grins and wiggles his brows. In the low light of the Tahoe, something evil and conniving crosses his face.

“She’ll do anything for the man she loves,” he says with a sharp nod full of confidence.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say,” Callum mumbles uncomfortably from the backseat, forcing his earbuds back into his ears, blocking out the world with murmuring music.

“We’ll wine and dine her. We’ll make River West fall so madly in love with us that she’ll call her family and beg them to hear our music. Imagine the reunion they could have all because of us. It’ll be a win-win, but mostly for us.”

My mouth gapes open, and I'm not the only one utterly shocked. Rad sputters, choking on his spit.

"Us?" Rad asks with a squeak but quickly soothes his expression. From here, I see the wheels turning in his brain. Wait…us?

“You want us to trick her into loving me?” I gape, shaking my head like it's the worst possible idea on the planet. But a thrill runs through me at the thought. Yes. Let her fall in love with me, and then I'll whisk her away, and she'll never have to live in this shitty town again.

"Where would you go if you left?" I whisper, staring at the stars again, having been kicked out over an hour ago so my mom could conduct business. Whatever that is. All I know is a stereo plays so loud, drowning out the weird noises coming from her room.

"I want to touch the ocean," she whispers, leaning into me with a sigh.

"I'll take you when we're older," I whisper, dreaming of the day I can take both of us away from here.

Our dreams will become a reality if I get my way.

“Nope,” Ash says, popping the P. “All of us. What better package deal could you get than having her invested in all of us? Our hearts, our everything. We’ll all date her, and then, in the end, she can decide who she likes the best.”

My gaze snaps in his direction at the thought of any of them touching her.

"I'm sorry, what?" Callum grumbles through the biggest frown ever, still listening to our conversation, not his music. "You want us to seduce her?" His brows furrow, but he looks to Ash for more direction.

"Then it's settled," Ash says, rubbing his hands together with a cocky-as-hell grin. No one could stop him now if they tried. "Operation seduce our meal ticket is underway. Start planning those dates. How long do you think before she caves? A week? Two? Flash some cash, and her panties will fall?" He chuckles, throwing open the passenger's side door with zest. "Hello, Gloria!" he shouts gleefully at two in the fucking morning, waving toward the window.

She scowls again, giving a small wave before stomping away from the window. That's right, and she won't say shit to Asher. But me? I'll get an earful.

Callum mutters solemnly to himself and pushes out the backdoor with a frown, shutting it behind him. He follows Ash around to the back of the Tahoe, talking to him in a low voice. His arms wave and I can tell his conscience is eating away at him at the idea. But ultimately, Asher will win this fight, and we'll be helpless to do whatever he says. He always does.

Rad's face pinches when he leans forward. "Are we doing that?" he asks in a hushed tone. "Dude, I mean, I'm down for talking to her and getting to know her. But love? That seems kinda…" His lips press together in a tight line, and he shakes his head.

"Demented?" I murmur, throwing my head back into the seat.

This plan is so fucking stupid, but it might just work. We've worked our asses off getting into venues around the big city and building a small following. We only have four hundred followers on social media and a group of people who follow us from venue to venue, buying all our tickets. But if we can get to the venue of our dreams, then we're set. No more parents with expectations. Just music, the road, booze, fame, and River by my fucking side at last. And freedom, the one thing we've craved. No matter the cost, we’ll get there.

"Exactly," Rad says, pointing at me.

"You know Ash," I say, swiping a hand down my face.

"Fucker takes it too far," Rad agrees with a sharp nod. "Too fucking extreme."

"Help me watch him," I say, turning to Rad with pleading eyes and curling my fists. "We can't let him take it too far." Not that he'll be able to. River won't have a choice in the matter now. She'll pick me and only me at the end of our time together.

"I'll try.” He shrugs, hurrying toward the door. "Who knows, though, this could be fun, right? The four of us, one ballsy chick?" He shrugs and gestures toward my pocket. "How much did we make tonight? It better be a shit ton with all the girls we brought in. Imagine the look on Gloria's face when we make a profit." He's right. We've never managed to make a considerable profit, but with Callum negotiating through email correspondence with River. We got ourselves a golden opportunity with a good chunk of change.

I snort, digging into my pocket and pulling out the check. I flatten it along the center console and turn on the overhead light.

Rad scrunches his face. "Errr, what?" I motion at the check, laughing my ass off. "Dude, she wrote 'To the Whispered Words, you sack of shits, here’s the money I owe you.' What the fuck is that?" He groans, shoving himself back. "She didn't even sign it!"

I sigh, staring at the perfect cursive, and rub my jaw. "Well, River gave us the perfect excuse to stalk her." I shrug, shoving the check into my pocket. A thrill of excitement shoots through me at the prospect of seeing her again. Maybe she and I could pick up where we left off.

"Right, dude! She still owes us! Sick!" He chuckles, piles out of the car, and heads to the back of the vehicle.

Huddling together, we plan for the next few months, including what we need to do and how we'll reel her like a fish on a hook.