Second Sets Omnibus

Twenty Five - Asher

Today has been a shit show of epic proportions on so many levels. The weight of everything that’s happened in the span of twenty-four hours barrels down on me, sitting heavily on my chest and shoulders. Leaning back, I rest my head against the cold, textured wall, drawing in air. It’s all I can do to ground myself and stay in the moment. If I don’t, her lifeless body, covered in blood spatters, comes back to mind and tortures me all over again.

Seeing River bruised up like that, has me twisted into knots and so goddamn conflicted. Half of me wants to scoop her up, fix her, and soothe her discomfort. The other half of me wants to keep her at arm’s length to protect the band in case it all goes sideways like today. One horrific injury has them clawing at the walls like feral animals.

The large waiting room in the emergency department of Central Memorial Hospital is stifling. Rogue coughs from others waiting float through the air, mixed with whimpers and complaints. Jesus. My skin crawls with the onslaught of germs crawling all over the place. I’d rather lick the urinal at Dead End than sit in this germ-infested cesspool.

Fuck. I need fresh air. But I can’t leave Kieran. He’s on the brink of losing his mind, and I need to catch him when he falls. As cliche as it sounds, I’ll always catch my brother when he falls with open arms—any of them. They’re my family, and I’d give my life for them and risk it all.

My eyes narrow when police officers waltz into the emergency department with their heads held high, flashing their badges. My eyes follow their every move, wondering what they’re doing. If they’re here to interrogate River, they have another thing coming.

“We got a call on a stabbing victim,” one of them says in a faint voice, but it carries through the room.

The nurse behind the desk clicks her nails against the keyboard of her computer and nods.

“Oh, yes. The patient is in room 30B, but be advised, he’s very combative. It’s superficial, but whoever did it to him accomplished whatever they needed.” Her voice trails off when she leads the officers down the long hallway and beeps them into the official emergency department.

I rub my chin, watching through the doors for any sign of River. Secretly, I hope she comes marching through those doors with a grin, telling us it was all a joke, and we can all go home. It’s wishful thinking on my part to hope she wasn’t injured so badly. So, I’ll support the band and make sure my Little Brat pulls through.

By the time Kieran and I showed up to the waiting room, Ode had gone back with River, apparently claiming she was her sister. Leaving us out here waiting and waiting with no updates, which is all fine and dandy if Kieran, Rad, and Callum weren’t falling apart at the fucking seams.

Kieran leans his elbows on his knees, cradling his face in his hands, constantly fidgeting. He hasn’t uttered a word since we left the police station. And I haven’t either.

All this consuming rage builds inside me like a fucking storm. Here I am, deathly afraid Kieran’s about to burst when I’m the one on edge. Someone put their fucking hands on my Little Brat for no good reason, and someone is going to die with my hands wrapped around their throat.

Van may have been present after the fact, bent over her after the assault, but I have doubts it was him in the back of my mind. Was he involved? Possibly. Maybe? Who the hell knows?

Speaking of… My eyes narrow into slits when I gaze at the suspect sitting as far as humanly possible from Kieran, holding an ice pack on his face with a grimace. Every few seconds, his eyes stray this way with fear tinting them.

Good.

He should be fucking afraid of what Kieran will do if he keeps sniffing around what he’s marked as his. Van had his chance, and he blew it. It’s pathetic as fuck when grown men can’t take no for an answer.

Time and time again, River has blown him off, telling him no. So, why he’s here, sitting in the waiting room, still blows my fucking mind. The audacity this asshole has to cling on like a leech dangling from my ass cheek baffles my too-tired brain.

I close my eyes and heave a breath. This has been the longest night and earliest morning yet, but there’s still more to come. Kieran and I may be over eighteen and adults, but we didn’t check in or make it home last night. Sure, Nigel allows—and I use that word loosely—us to play gigs until three a.m., staying out to fulfill our hobby. But make no mistake, there will be hell to pay when we finally crawl home.

Nigel

We’ll have a very long discussion when you two get home.

I roll my lips together, reading the text message repeatedly. He sent it six hours ago when I walked Kieran from the police station. My stomach rolls and knots all at once. Kieran and I are up shit creek without a paddle the moment we walk through the threshold of our front door.

“I’m here for Kieran Knight,” I say with no emotion, grinding my damn teeth at the plated window protecting the front desk.

The woman behind it peers up, doing a once over, and nods. “Ah, yes,” she mumbles, typing a few things into the computer. “You’re in luck. He should be right out.” She nods toward a set of double doors secured by a lock mechanism.

“Out?” I question with skepticism. I didn’t expect this fight to be easy. Hell, I half expected Kieran to rot away for a few days until the judge came in and charged him with assault and set his damn bond.

“Yes, Mr. Montgomery,” she says with a knowing look. My stomach sinks into my ass at the sound of my name, meaning only one thing. “It seems you have friends in high places.” My fucking father. He always gets his way. Wonderful.

I hope Kieran likes the backyard because that’s where we’ll spend an eternity buried under the dirt with the worms and bugs.

“Mm, thanks,” I mutter, curling my fists at my side, waiting on the edge of my seat until my stupid brother smacks through the doors with a growl. He doesn’t utter a word when he marches out the front door with me on his tail and still doesn’t when we pull into the hospital parking lot.

“Why the fuck is he sitting there?”

Great. After six hours of silent brooding, here comes the bull at a full charge. I take a breath, preparing for the utter shit show that’s inevitably about to go down.

“He’s just fucking staring at us like he didn’t do this.” Kieran narrows his eyes again and clenches his fingers into fists around the ice, numbing his pain.

“Maybe he didn’t,” I remark quietly, earning the full brunt of Kieran’s ire.

“You don’t think he did? He was right fucking there, Asher!” he hisses so loudly that his voice bounces off the tall ceilings. “He did it! And I’m going to bury him for it.” A tick forms in his jaw when he whips his head, holding Van’s gaze.

Yup. Shit show.

I shrug, closing my eyes. “Don’t jump to so many conclusions,” I say through a yawn, sinking further into my chair. Maybe if I fall asleep, this will all be a distant dream.

“You’re just… you’re just going to let him get away with it?” Kieran growls, I’m sure, throwing spittle everywhere with each word.

I sigh. “You’ve already been arrested once and released. Do you want to chance it again? It’s called silent planning, Kieran,” I mutter through the thick fog clouding my mind. If I don’t get some sleep soon, my head will explode from the headache working its way up my neck and into the back of my skull. “Maybe you should learn the skill.” He huffs at me, throwing himself back into the chair.

“Asher, man.” I sigh again, peeking an eye open, revealing Rad’s concerned and fallen expression. It twists, contorting his face into an anguish-filled feature. “You gotta do something. He won’t take them out. He’s losing his shit. I don’t know what to do. He hasn’t been this bad since-since, Jenny,” Rad murmurs the last part, hiccupping at the thought of Callum’s little sister and everything he went through concerning the plane crash. “He’s in love with her, man. We gotta…”

Holding up a hand, I stop him in his tracks. The sad truth is they’re all in love with her. They may not admit it yet, but they’re head over heels, stupidly in love, leading us down dangerous roads of sabotage. I won’t let my best friend suffer in silence by drowning out the world and ignoring everyone around him.

Climbing to my feet, I make my way to Callum’s silent bubble with purpose. His head rests back against the wall with his eyes closed and his hands buried deep in his pockets, slouching in his chair.

Settling beside him, I lightly nudge him with my shoulder until he peeks an eye open. An array of emotions filter through his gray eyes when his broken gaze meets mine. A tiny twitch forms at the edge of his lip, letting me know the man doesn’t want to speak about the situation. He’d rather lose himself in the loud music thumping through his earbuds than face reality. I tap my ear until he huffs, yanking out his earbud.

“What’s up?” he murmurs in a soft voice, thick with emotions. His eyes drop to the ground, taking in the disgusting tile pattern.

“I should ask you the same. What’s going through your mind, Callum?”

He meets my eye at the sound of his name, quickly locking away any emotions he feels. Usually, Callum is an easy book to read. For me, anyway. Every emotion inside him slides across his face like an open book. Today he’s a blank canvas, not giving any hints as to why he’s isolated himself. Given the circumstances, I understand why.

“It’s all I see,” he mutters, fidgeting with his earbuds between his fingers.

“What is?”

Even though I know the answer, I still ask. It’s the only way to break Callum out of his rut, by forcing him to utter the dreaded words. He’s not alone, though. The second my eyes fall shut, she’s all I see. All broken, bruised, bloodied, lying on the cold, dark pavement forever haunts my nightmares. But for him, he’ll literally never forget.

He shakes his head, and his face contorts into deep hurt. “Her just lying there,” he whispers as tears fall down his cheeks. “I can’t get that image out of here,” he cries out, thumping his fist into his head several times. “I can’t make it stop, Asher.” My heart fucking breaks for my friend, shattering into pieces at the emotions rolling through him.

“Think of happier times, man,” I murmur, rubbing a hand down his back and soothing his pain. “Think of the time we had on the Ferris wheel. Or the amazing show she helped us put on last night. Think of anything else.” Images of River’s broad smile and snarky attitude come to mind, and my shoulders sag at the memories in tune with his.

“Those were good times,” he whispers with a nod. The more I rub his back, the calmer he becomes, and soon, all his anxiety leaves. Sure, the image will live inside him forever. There’s nothing I can do about that. But for now, I can ease his worries.

“Yeah, because you finally got your dick sucked by a gorgeous chick,” Rad quips, coming to rest beside him. “Let those be the images you think about forever. You gotta block that depressing shit out.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Kieran growls, jumping to his feet.

Under normal circumstances, I’d tell his ass to sit down and take a chill pill. But Kieran’s emotions are in the driver’s seat, controlling his actions. There’s no stopping him from doing stupid shit like marching toward Van like he’s about to chew him up and spit him out. Only this time, Kieran won’t leave any bones behind.

“Fuck sake,” I grumble, jumping up to catch him by the scruff of his shirt and haul him back. “We’re in public. Unless you want Nigel to beat your ass even worse,” I mumble the last part, earning a scowl. “I’ll make him leave,” I say, silently pleading with the idiot to sit down.

“Fine. I can’t look at his stupid face anymore,” he grumbles, turning on his toes and plopping back down in the chair with a grunt. Running a hand over his face, he closes his eyes and hopefully counts to ten.

I shove my hands in my pockets and walk toward Van, sitting a good thirty feet away with an ice pack resting against his swollen face. If one good thing came out of this situation, it’s the bruising on Van’s pathetic face.

“My suggestion would be to leave,” I say, sitting beside him. “Unless you want my idiot brother to rip your face off. Again,” I huff, rolling my eyes. “Look at him; he wants to march over and put his fist through your teeth.” A chuckle works its way up my throat when Van stiffens, clearly threatened by the big dummy death-glaring in his direction.

That’s right, Van. Be deeply afraid of him. He’s had years and years of pent-up aggression. And he’d be excited to use it on you.

“I’m waiting to hear how she’s doing,” Van stubbornly grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m curious,” I say, slumping down into the seat. Running my fingertips along my chin, I pop my eyebrow when I pique his interest. “How would Whitley feel about you being here, waiting for River to get released?”

“What the hell does it matter to you, man?” he asks through gritted teeth. “Why’re you so damn hellbent on telling her anything? She has nothing to do with any of this. River is my…”

“I’m just saying,” I say, waving a hand lazily. “One of these days, your fiancée will catch on.” I shrug, climbing to my feet and letting my implication hit its mark. “Besides, I can text you when she gets out and is healthy.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” he growls, shifting the ice on his face to scowl at me. “You’d really send that email and let her know…” He swallows hard, shaking his head.

“What? That you used to fuck River behind her back at the record store? Or that you’re stalking her now? Or that you really had something to do with all this?” I wave a finger, smirking when he gets paler and paler with every word I speak, eventually turning green. “There’s plenty I can do. Now or later, that’s your choice,” I say with a shrug, waltzing back toward Kieran and plopping down next to him. He raises a brow at me, practically begging with his eyes about what I said.

Satisfaction spears through me when Van grabs his shit and stomps out of the emergency department. Seconds later, his engine roars to life, reverberating through the lofty room. Finally, I settle back in my chair, letting my eyes fall shut. Maybe now I can get some rest. All the children are snug in their chairs without worry.

“Finally,” Kieran shouts, jumping to his feet.

My damn body bounces out of the chair on instinct with a pounding heart. Swallowing hard, I blow out a breath as Ode emerges from behind the locked ER doors.

“Nice to see you, too,” Ode quips with a tired groan. Bags sit under her red, puffy eyes, letting me know she hasn’t slept a wink.

“How is she?” Rad asks, out of breath, rushing Ode with urgency, furrowing his brows.

Ode sighs, running her fingers over her forehead. “She’s finally awake and talking to the doctors and cops. It’s fuzzy for her, but she’s doing okay. They’re going to run tests and shit. Doc thinks she has a concussion and abrasions from the attack. So, she’s fortunate it wasn’t worse. But we’ll see after the MRI.”

“Jesus-Jesus,” Callum mutters with a quivering chin, pulling his fist to his mouth.

“She’s a tough cookie,” Ode says, clapping him on the shoulder and gently squeezing. “Believe me, and she’s already bossing around the doctors and demanding to leave. Don’t worry too much about her, okay? I’d say you should probably go, but then I’d probably be talking to brick walls,” she huffs.

“Yeah, we’re not going anywhere until I know my pretty girl is feeling okay.”

“Can we see her?” Kieran asks with hope.

Ode wrinkles her nose. “I think like one at a friggin time. Whoa, dude!” she hisses, turning on her toes when Kieran pushes past without care and marches back into the ER, disappearing behind the doors.

I roll my eyes. “Friggin idiot,” I mumble through a tired sigh.

“I’m next,” Rad says, rubbing his hands together. “My pretty girl needs a nice massage and a dose of penis-cyclin.”

“You’ll only hurt her,” Callum grumbles, slapping him on the back of his head.

“By the way,” Ode says with furrowed brows. “Did you guys know that Bradley from high school came in with a stab wound?”

“He what?” Rad yelps, and his body stiffens, fury taking over his face.

Yeah, there’s something up with him and Bradley. Every time that fucker enters a room, he tenses. And those cops before, they were here for him. Who the hell finally stabbed that dick? My entire body locks up, drowning out the noises around me.

Bradley Bradford is officially on my shit list. A stab wound? That’s awfully fucking coincidental. Images of River’s fingers dripping with blood run through my mind, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m marching down the hallway without a clue as to where I’m going. Kieran grumbles something behind a curtain before I throw it open, revealing River nestled against his chest. His arms lock around her protectively, gently running his fingers through her long, ratted strands.

Looking around, I pull the curtain back behind me, huffing when the rest of the idiots pile into the room and hover around a broken-looking River. Tears threaten to burn the back of my eyes as I take her in, noting the black and blue bruises lining her face. The three of us stand there with gaping mouths as she untucks herself from Kieran’s grasp and refuses to look in our direction. Keeping her eye downcast, she summons Ode to the edge of the bed.

“Leave,” River rasps, taking Ode’s shaking hand. “Get some sleep, please.” Exhaustion pulls at her tiny voice, tugging at my fucking black heartstrings. She sounds like she’s fighting a battle she won’t win—like she’s already given in to the pain, and defeat has taken over. But that’s not the River I know. The girl I know fights tooth and nail through anything and with anybody. Fuck.

Ode’s face falls, but she squeezes River’s hand. “Fine, I’ll leave y’all to it. Bitch, I love you. But don’t you ever pull that shit again.” Leaning down, she plants a soft kiss on River’s cheek, lingering long enough to whisper something, and pulls back with a stern look. “I’ll check in with your momma, too. And you four,” she says with a demanding tone, putting a hand on her hip. “You fuck with River. You fuck with me. Got it?”

We all nod in unison. Not daring to toe an inch out of line while she death glares at us with mama bear vibes emanating from her. The fierce expression doesn’t leave until we’re protectively cupping our balls and shivering from her threat, and with one last look, she waves, walking out the door with apprehension.

Once Ode clears the room, Rad wraps his arms around River, smothering her with light kisses.

“I’m fine,” she groans, trying to weakly shove him off.

“No, Pretty Girl. You’re not,” he murmurs lovingly, moving a piece of her hair out of her face. “Bradley did this, didn’t he? Did he…?”

River visibly cringes at his words, recoiling into Kieran’s chest and hiding her face from us. The world blurs around me, mixing into a multitude of colors, and my heart fucking drops out of my fucking body. Ice runs through my veins, raising the tiny hairs on the back of my neck. Grabbing my skull with force, I massage my temples until the pain subsides into a dull ache. It all makes fucking sense now. Every goddamn piece of the puzzle clicks into place, and murder vibrates through me.

“You stabbed him?” I blurt breathlessly as piles of information storm through my mind like wildfire blowing through. “He did it?” I accuse now, narrowing my eyes and taking in her reaction.

“You what?” Kieran asks in a deadly voice, looking down at her with fear twisting his expression. His eyes widen, and he tugs her impossibly closer, with emotions pulling him in every direction. By the time we make it home, he will be so rung out. “He what?” he murmurs in disbelief.

River hides her face in his chest, taking several deep breaths before she collects herself and speaks.

“Please, let it go,” she murmurs in a broken voice. “Please, just let go. I don’t want to talk about it right now.” No. It seems she doesn’t want to talk about it ever again. So, it’s time to force the words from her tongue so we can cut Bradley open and feed him to the vultures.

“River,” I bark, marching to her side. Leaning over Kieran, I gently grab her chin and force her to stare at me. So many emotions rest in her moss-green eyes. It’s hard to tell how she’s feeling. Fear. Anguish. Pain. Resentment. It’s all wrapped into one. “He’ll get what’s coming to him, Little Brat. Don’t even worry about it,” I promise through a growl, envisioning his death by my hands.

“Don’t worry about it?” she whispers as fat tears drop onto her cheeks, sending searing pain through my chest at the sight of her pain. “I have to worry about it. I have to make sure he gets punished for his crimes! He got away with it once, and I won’t stand back and let him harm any more women.” Her body trembles in Kieran’s embrace, and the room falls silent.

I don’t miss her words. Or how she said them. All the answers reside there and understanding pushes through me. River was the girl Bradley bragged about for months on end. Only, she wasn’t a willing participant like he eluded her to be.

“Got away with it once?” Kieran asks, furrowing his brow. “What?” River’s face pales when the realization hits Kieran hard, and a gasp forces its way through his parted lips. “No,” he murmurs, running a thumb gently across her cheeks and jolts, eyes bulging. I swear he stops breathing, and his head shakes in denial. “The fucking beating we gave him over the girl you found? No!” His fingers flex, engorging the veins lining his forearms.

Grabbing his arm, River shakes her head with a pained expression. “It was a long time ago. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to move forward. I want Bradley to get what’s coming to him.”

She rolls her lips together, sadness glazing over her eyes. Something about the situation sends shame through her; it’s even more apparent when she closes her eyes. Kieran swallows hard, rubbing the back of his neck. Anguish takes over his expression when he kisses her cheek, murmuring words I can’t hear.

“More than a stabbing, Little Brat?” I quip, finally earning a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Jail time. Anything to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone else,” she whispers in complete and utter defeat—something I’ve never seen from her.

Sitting back, River stays snuggled in Kieran’s arms, soaking up his support. “We’ll get you a wonderful lawyer. We’ll help with whatever you need,” Kieran promises, kissing her forehead with a feather-light kiss.

“Everything we have, we’ll give you,” Callum promises, leaning over to kiss her head.

“I’ll bury him in acid and laugh as his bones disintegrate,” Rad mumbles, kissing her temple.

A million thoughts rush through me when we leave River lying in the hospital. After sitting there all day and through nine p.m., they kicked us out, stating they admitted her until they got her results back. Our visit was over, but our night had only just begun.

Tension rises in my chest when we pull into the house’s driveway, looming in front of us.

“It was nice knowing you,” Kieran mumbles, hanging his head with a heavy sigh.

“I can’t believe you got arrested,” I say, sitting back in my seat and huffing a breath.

Over her—the girl we need in our corner. Over the entire situation—is what I want to say. Every inch of Kieran vibrates with a restless rage begging to come back out. So, I zip my lips and inspect the situation one more time. Another time and place, I’d let him pummel Van into oblivion. Not now. Not on the heels of his arrest.

Getting arrested is the least of our worries at the moment. Kieran didn’t just get himself thrown into jail; he got the both of us thrown into the lion’s den, covered in blood and defenseless. Now it’s time to face the devil himself.

Raising a brow, I stare at the dark, empty office window my father always peers out of and note the darkened room and closed blinds. In fact, the entire house swims in darkness, ready to swallow us whole. Somewhere in the depths of hell, our demon waits to attack us when we least expect it.

“Where is he?” I murmur, peering at every window, half expecting the damn boogeyman to pop out and attack.

My skin tingles in anticipation of the night ahead. We’ve been out for twenty-four hours and haven’t reached out. We may be twenty-one and old enough to hold our own, but in his eyes, we are children he’s successfully controlled.

“I don’t care as long as he’s not lying in wait, ready to attack us,” Kieran says, frowning up at the window when we exit the car. “Again,” he murmurs, shivering at the memory of Nigel popping out and taking us by surprise. He lives to make our lives miserable.

Looking around, I take stock of everything around us. Empty driveway. Empty street. The only logical explanation is his vehicle is in the garage, or he’s not here. I peek in the garage window, only to find Gloria’s BMW. Relief slams into me, and for the first time today, I feel like I can breathe, and the heavy pressure lifts. Not that my father won’t punish us when he returns, but we have a reprieve from his cruelty. For now, at least. That’s all I can ask for after a long day of waiting.

“He’s not here,” I rejoice confidently, leading the way and quietly entering through the front door. Silence clings to every inch of the space, and peace washes over me for once in my damn life.

“Maybe we got away with it,” Kieran says with false hope.

“Don’t hold your breath. Now, I’m going to bed,” I say, not waiting for his response, and quietly enter my bedroom at the top of the stairs.

Darkness greets me like an old friend, enveloping me in a warm hug. Once again, something eerie crashes over me, and my hairs stand on end. A lone figure hovers in the shadows, looking out my window.

“It’s that girl, isn’t it?” Gloria asks in a haughty tone, turning toward me. No expression breaks through the darkness concealing her face. “That bitch from Central City? The same one Kieran obsessed over as a kid.” She scoffs at that, coming toward me. “My advice?”

“Sure,” I say, committing to a non-answer with a shrug.

“Leave her as far behind as possible. Those Central girls will only bring you one of two things: disease or pregnancy,” she hisses in disgust. “She’ll only bring you boys down. You’re destined for greatness.”

“Greatness, huh?” I rub my chin, milling over her words.

A normal child would preen under her confidence and praise with a grin. But I refuse. Gloria may seem like she’s looking out for our best interest, but by the devious gleam in her eyes, she’s up to something. I’m not sure what. What could she gain from this conversation?

“You boys have talent, and the word on the street is you are applying to a big competition?” She raises a brow, stepping more into the light of the moon beaming through the windowpanes. “Something in, say… California?”

I raise a brow, my heart secretly thumping against my ribs. If it’s out in the open that we may go to California, my father might screw it all up by lifting his finger. It’s bad enough we’re financially strapped to him with our cars and phones, but he could take them away with the snap of his fingers. There’s nothing more heart-stopping than realizing we’re dangling a treat in front of his face to hurt us with more.

“I can make sure he doesn’t have a clue,” she sniffs, sticking her nose in the air.

“And what do you want in return, Gloria? You can’t be doing this out of the kindness of your heart. So, tell me what you’re willing to do and what you want in return.” I lift a brow when her shoulders push back, and she turns on the lamp next to my bed, revealing the black and blue bruises lining her face. I’d gasp if I were surprised by the marks on her body, but I’m not. Figures Nigel would work out his frustrations on her.

“I’m your reminder, Asher,” she says, cringing when she runs a finger down her bruised cheek. “When you’re not here, he does this. And I’m tired of being a punching bag.” She waves her hand, showing the damage on her face and further down her body.

“Fair enough,” I say, looking her up and down as she clings to the silk robe encasing her body.

“You want the money to go? You want the car to get you there without issues? Do you want your father not to know anything about it? I can help, but I have stipulations,” she says, straightening more with a cringe.

“Enlighten me, Gloria. How would my father not know about the missing money or the Tahoe? How do you intend to get away with any of that when you’re just as stuck? Hmm?” I raise my brow, trying to keep the condescending tone from leaking through. If I remain pessimistic about the situation, I can’t get my hopes up on making our great escape. Nothing will stop us. Not even Nigel Montgomery.

You know, all I wanted was my bed and a nice long sleep without this bullshit floating around in my mind. A clean cut from my father’s grasp is all I’ve begged for, for years now. But every day gets worse and worse, and his control tightens on our reigns. Some would scoff at our age and tell us to leave without notice, but they don’t have a fucking clue what this life is like. Having someone hovering above you and micromanaging your every financial move is more complex than they could imagine. Add in fists and shouting matches—yeah, it’s heaven. Nigel controls every aspect of our life. So, even at twenty-one, we’re stuck in his grasp until we can slowly ease our way out.

For once in Gloria’s pathetic life, she looks stricken when she scrunches her bruised nose. “It’s my money,” she says in a soft voice. “It’s all I have, but I could help you get there and set up. Any extras will help.”

My brows fly into my hairline, and my lips pop open. Hers? My father doesn’t allow us to have our means, keeping us tightly wound around his grubby finger.

“Why?” I ask, crossing my arms. “What’s stopping you from taking Camilla and running with what you have?” Leaning against the wooden door frame, I sigh, watching the indecisive cross her face. If she had money, then she could flee without a glance back.

“It has to be you. Once you’re out, I can get out,” she whispers with glossy eyes. “I have something to take care of before I can leave. Besides, he’d hunt me down and drag me back, kicking and screaming. Think of Camilla. What would he do to her? He’d take custody and bury me so deep in court fees I’d never come up for air. I’d end up like your mother.” A cold slap in the face would have been better than hearing my past on her lips. For once, Gloria is right. She’d end up at the wrong end of a needle and buried so deep her secrets would never resurface—like my mother. Longing hits me out of nowhere, but I swallow it down. I don’t have the time or energy to relive my tragic past with the cravings for my mother.

“And what’s that?” I ask, clearing my throat and shaking away the thoughts in my head.

“Do you want the deal or not?” she huffs with obvious annoyance.

“Maybe,” I say with a nonchalant shrug. “If you keep your mouth shut about it.”

Gloria’s lips thin, and she nods. “I have two stipulations.”

Of course, she does; Gloria can’t do anything as simple as turning the other cheek when we need her to. Keeping my father’s nose out of my business is priority number one. Especially when it concerns the Battle of the Bands—the one thing we need. He gave us one year to sow our wild oats with the damn band, and I’m making the best of it without his interference. There’s no stopping us now.

“What are they?” I ask, holding back a yawn.

“When you win the Battle of the Bands, help me leave,” she says, looking directly into my eyes.

“If we win. There’s a whole competition. It’s us against fifteen bands, and it’s not a guarantee.” I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. “And where’d you like to go, Gloria?” I ask, seriously wondering where this woman would want to go.

“Anywhere but here,” she says with a shaky nod. “Far away from him…” She swallows hard at that admission, but good for her. “You’ll win. You guys have to win. Second stipulation…”

“Go on,” I say, waving a hand.

“The Central Girl stays here,” she says, firmly pointing a finger down. “I know you’ve offered to take her with you, but she belongs where she is. Not out there.”

I snort. “Right. Try prying her out of your son’s hands.” Or mine. She’s valuable to us, especially in East Point, California. If she doesn’t go, then we might not have a chance of winning. There’s no way… I shake my head, rubbing my chin.

“Think it over, Asher. Watch the way she’s wearing each of you down. Soon, she’ll split you all up, and Whispered Words won’t be a thing anymore. In less than a year, you’ll be suited up under your father’s thumb. All because you couldn’t leave one girl where she belongs. You’re going to be famous. Do you want some lost, stray skank following you around?”

Fuck! My eye twitches. Hook. Line. And sinker. An ache forms in my chest as she hits every point of my worries in the head. She raises her brow, reaching for the handle until I grab her wrist.

“How much money are you offering to get us away from here?” I growl through gritted teeth.

She smiles at me like the snake she is, winding her tail around me and squeezing me until I give in to her every whim. “I have five thousand. It’s good enough to get you there, help you get established, and then once you win, you’ll have so much more than that. Plus, whatever you’ve been saving over the years.”

“Are you spying on us, Gloria? And how do you know what the prize is?” I ask, raising a brow.

“You should be more careful with your internet searches,” she says with a cluck of her tongue. “Just think it over. Watch the girl. See how easily she gets what she wants. Central girls are all the same,” she says with a shake of her head.

“Like you?” I mutter when she walks out and shuts the door behind her.