Second Sets Omnibus

Thirty Two - River

Seven Months Later

The hot July sun beams down when I step out of Bessy, groaning when I can stretch my legs. Sweat sticks to every damn inch of my skin, slowly dripping down my back. I swear, it's only nine in the morning, and the sun is already trying to roast me like a Thanksgiving turkey. Shit. Turkey sounds delicious.

And now, not only am I starving for the thousandth time in the two hours I've been awake, but every bone in my body aches. Seriously, it was only a ten-minute drive to the local grocery store, but it was still Hell on earth for my hips and legs. My least favorite activity these days is walking or any form of exercise. Minus sex, now that'd be a pleasant activity. Except no one wants to bang a broken-hearted, pregnant girl. So, here I am, seven months along and hornier than I've ever been in my life and fucking lonely. Where’s the good dick when you need it?

Normal women glow at this point in the pregnancy, raving about how their morning sickness has gone away and their acne has cleared. I call bullshit. I love this child with every fiber of my being, but I wish it were two months from now and she was here. Despite the circumstances and the lack of money, I’m over the moon to bring her into this world with me. It’s just her and me against the entire world. As she ages, I plan to tell her about those assfaces who tucked tail to live their rock star dreams and left us here. All positive, of course. I don't want her to go a day without knowing who helped create her.

“If you could stop kicking my bladder, that’d be great,” I mumble, rubbing a hand over my large stomach as she kicks me again. “Or not,” I quip, reaching into my backseat with a grin. “Just you and me, Lyric,” I say in a soothing voice, grabbing the grocery bags and hauling them into my hands. With a grunt, I shut the door and head up the back staircase of the record store to the apartment above it.

Seven months ago, my landlord informed me that I had to leave because my mom and I were in government-placed housing. We moved in there when I was a kid, and before my mom died, she had never added me to the lease. So, needless to say, I had to leave on a thirty-day notice, pregnant, grieving, and completely fucked up from the betrayal from the boys. Booker, bless his fucking heart, let me take over the abandoned apartment over the record store. I swear, when I'm a badass band manager, I'm buying him both businesses and a brand-new car for all the support he's given me over the years. The plus side? Van has no idea where I live and can’t snoop around, knocking on my doors every hour of the day, begging me to let him in.

My new apartment is a small one-bedroom, maybe, eight hundred square feet of living space. But it’s home now—a place to lay my head and a place for me to bring baby Lyric home when the time comes. It’s mine for now until I get through school and work.

One day, I’ll have more than an apartment above the record store. One day, I won’t depend on the government to help me buy food and provide for my medical needs. But that’s not today. Today, I’m still growing into the woman I’ll be in a few years and taking what I can get to survive.

Checking my phone, I note the time and curse. Quickly, I put my groceries away and head down to the record store to open with my laptop in tow.

For the past few months, I’ve been going through non-stop classes, getting closer and closer to my degree. Thankfully, the community college offers summer courses as a way to guarantee degrees at a faster pace. The faster I get this, the better off I’ll be. And maybe, sometime in the future, I can get my bachelor’s and expand my business degree in music.

Finally, I sit after hours of grocery shopping, walking, and moving around. Relief slams into my damn throbbing feet when I prop them up on the counter and pop in my one working earbud, groaning at the weight off my damn toes. God. Whoever said pregnancy was magical was a big, fat liar. Listen, I’ll love this child until I die, but if I ever have to go through this again—I might pluck the child out too early and call it a day.

As I settle in and sign into school, the professor begins speaking in a monotone voice. One day someone will let this man know his class is boring and he should lighten up a little bit.

I internally groan when the bell above the door rings, announcing the arrival of… Fuckity, fuck…

“Van,” I say through gritted teeth when he waltzes in with a grin, coming straight to the counter.

He cocks his head, taking me in when he leans on the counter, and his eyes widen. “I didn’t believe the rumors, but here you are. And you’re…”

“Very pregnant,” I grit out, narrowing my eyes at his smug face when he whistles. “What the hell do you want, Van?” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation.

I haven’t seen this fool since the night he kissed me. So, to see him now up close and personal reminds me of the promise I made myself about castrating him and selling him as pig food.

“Just came by to see how you were doing,” he says, grinning and looking me over. “How've you been? I’ve been away for a while.” Genuine concern fills his eyes, but I don't fall into his manipulative trap like I used to.

“Oh, just peachy. Living the good life,” I quip, dripping with so much sarcasm we're practically swimming in it.

“Rivey,” he says in a low, pained voice. “I just… I just came by to see how you were coping with everything. And I wanted to tell you that I never took the money my dad offered me over you. I only broke up with you to go to college and get my degree. Not like them,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “I would never take money over you. In fact, I’ve been away making a better future for us.” I blink rapidly when he emphasizes the word us , and I wrinkle my nose.

“Like them? For us?” I indulge him just this once, hanging on to his words and ignoring my professor yapping in my ear.

Like I give a shit if Van took the money over being with me. That ship sailed a long time ago. Besides, that's all on him and his problem—not mine. He can do what he wants. And by the crease in his forehead, I'm not giving him the reaction he wanted.

“Yeah. I… listen, I wasn't supposed to say anything, but Kieran was bragging about the massive check his mom gave him to leave you,” he says, watching my unmoving face. “And I would never do that. I went to Europe on my dad’s dime for an internship, and now I have every arsenal in my pocket for us to have a better future. You, me, and the baby.”

Even when it feels like a knife stabs through my fucking heart at the sound of his name. Kieran. The name I've refused to utter for months now. It feels like ash on my tongue the more my brain repeats it. Asher. Kieran. Callum. Rad. Shit. My stomach rolls, knotting around the memories we've shared.

Taking a deep breath, I shove that shit down as far as it'll go and lock them away. I'll remember them for Lyric and tell her every story I know, but I won't let Van barge into my place of employment and undo seven crucial months of mending my heart back together. Thanks to pregnancy hormones, it took many nights of crying myself to sleep and cursing their names for my heart to heal finally.

“He said that if they left you here, she'd pay for their trip to California and help their living situation and everything. I can't believe they took the money over you.” Shaking his head, he runs a hand over the back of his neck, dropping his eyes to the floor with shame.

“Nice story,” I say with a shrug, busting through my bullshit meter for the day. “They did what they did. That's fine. They can live their dreams in California without me, regardless if they took a paycheck over a human being or two.” My nose wrinkles when I rub my grumbling stomach.

I see red when I roll my eyes, huffing at his mere existence. I'm holding back the angry tears welling in my eyes. Again, thanks to my pregnancy hormones throwing my body into some whacky ass emotions, I cry at every tiny inconvenience. Anger rises to the surface at the thought of those jackasses taking a big, fat check instead of hanging around. If I hazard a guess, I bet Gloria suggested the restraining orders, too. Among whatever else she thought of. Whatever. That's in the past, and this is the present.

Leaning forward with desperation, Van attempts to grab my hand. “I can take care of you, Rivey. I can… I have money. You'll have a good place to live, and we could be together. Half the town thinks it's my kid, anyway. I want… I want that,” he murmurs, pleading with his eyes.

I blink a few times, letting his words register in my mind. For the first time, I'm seeing the true psycho he is. Like, really? He wants to take care of me after he stalked me and watched me for months when the guys were here. Even after the unwanted kiss and the groping. I knew he was a little unhinged in the head, but this takes the fucking cake. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he had something to do with this entire situation. Minus the pregnancy, of course. His tiny flesh flute didn't come anywhere near me. Thank God.

“Your kid?” I yelp, kicking my damn brain into gear.

“Yeah, I mean. They saw us at your house, babe. They know…” He waves a wrist, alluding to the horizontal tango we most definitely didn't do that night.

I grind my teeth and curl my fingers into fists. If I let my hands have free reign of the situation, I'll stab him in the throat. And there's no way I can go to prison now at seven months pregnant.

“You mean the kiss you forced on me. Or the way you cornered me in the kitchen? Or showing up uninvited? I could go on and on, but my answer would always be the same. Get fucked, Van. This isn't your kid. I'm not yours. And I'd really like to stab you right now.” My eyes narrow when he swallows hard and takes a step back. Wise man, he's not underestimating me for once, probably because he's seen what my little knife can do and wants nothing to do with it.

“Jesus,” he yelps, putting his hand in the air and staring at the knife in my hand.

Oh. Would you look at that? How'd that get there? I could really poke someone's eyes out with this, preferably Van's.

“I won't ask again. Please leave. I'm really, really not in the mood for people right now, and you're no exception.” I shake my knife, making him lose all the color in his face.

“Fine. My offer still stands, even if you want to stab me. Shit,” he says, bolting out the door like his ass is on fire.

Fuck. Finally, I can relax and pay attention to class. Maybe in five minutes, I'll head up to my apartment and grab the chocolate chip cookie cake I snagged at the grocery shop for cheap. It may expire tomorrow, but it sure as hell won't last that long in my home. Those things are my damn kryptonite right now. Take away the cookie cakes, and you might as well take away my life. Oh, and milkshakes. God. I can't shake this sweet tooth plaguing my every waking moment. It's no wonder I've already gained thirty pounds and am still growing. But fuck it, I'm building a tiny human one day at a time. I'll happily eat my weight in food.

Movement outside the store makes a grumble work up my throat. Great. Two guys linger outside, scrunching their stupid noses at the neighborhood. Narrowing my eyes, I watch the tattooed one secure his phone in front of his jeans, almost on instinct. I snort. That won't do anything around here, but I'm not breathing a word of that. They're already trembling in their designer shoes, giving their fancy schmancy lifestyle away. Looking them up and down, I furrow my brows. They may not be from around Central City, but they're not from Lakeview either. These identical guys stick out like a sore thumb. A hint of familiarity slaps me in the face the longer I stare at them standing outside the window.

The door overhead finally rings, indicating they've entered and are ready to browse or stare at me in awe. I feign ignorance like I wasn't watching their every move.

“Welcome to Dead Records. If you need anything, my name is River. Just let me know,” I say through a heavy, tired sigh, suddenly feeling the exhaustion weighing me down.

Now that I'm seated and staring at the shocked faces of the guys in front of me, I need a damn nap, which won't come anytime soon. Not only do I have to deal with customers, orders, and pregnancy, but I have to get through my classes.

“You're River Blue West?” one guy asks overly seriously, making my eyes snap to his similar moss-green eyes.

Whoever gave me that name should be shot–AKA–my father. It's bad enough that the entirety of the West clan is named after our father's favorite bands. But to give me the middle name too? Sucks.

I frown, scrunching my nose with suspicion and taking out my earbud. I don't know who these fuckers are, but I'm too tired and pregnant to deal with bullshit.

“Whoever you are,” I say, cocking my head to the side and examining them with a calculating eye. “I'm not interested. You assholes keep coming to me thinking I can get you whatever you think, but that's not how it works. I am a West. One of over a dozen, and I’m not the West that can get you fucking famous.” I shake my head, trying to set my earbud back in my ear to listen to my professor's rambling, but I stall when the colder-looking twin opens his mouth.

“I'm Zeppelin, and this is Seger. We're?—”

“My fucking brothers. Yup! I've heard that one before,” I say with realization, narrowing my eyes and scoffing, waving a hand. “It’s funny. Last I checked, my billionaire brothers were living it up in California and signing douchebags like Whispered Words to their label and not coming to bumbfuck nowhere, Illinois. It's almost laughable. You scammers will do anything to get a buck. But newsflash, dickweeds—I'm as broke as an unfunny joke,” I grumble, scrunching my nose again as the other idiot bends at the waist, barking out a sharp laugh.

“You're definitely a fucking West. Shit.” He breaks out in a deep laugh, putting his hands on his knees, and wheezing.

I scowl. It really wasn't that damn funny.

“You done?” I ask, raising a brow at his antics. I swear he turns blue from all the laughter squeaking through his nose.

“Here, here, fuck,” he wheezes again, digging into his wallet and throwing his license at me. On instinct, I catch it with ease from my seated position. My brows immediately furrow at the name, looking back at me.

“Jesus,” I mutter inaudibly. My fingers tremble around his driver's license, and the realization of who they are smacks me in the chest like a runaway train, knocking the breath from my lungs.

“See? I'm Seger fucking West. The real fucking deal.” Turning to his twin who can only be Zeppelin fucking West with a gigantic grin and murmur, he says, “I think she and Kace would get along fucking fine.”

Zepp side-eyes Seger with a snort, steps up to the counter, and flips open his wallet. Everything inside me goes numb and haywire at the same damn time. My jaw drops open, and their shit falls to the counter with a loud thud.

“The fuck are you doing here? Listen, the shit I said about Dad, I…” I ramble through terror until Seger holds up a hand, stopping my words.

“Dad was the biggest fucking cock on the planet when he was alive…” he says with a cringe, running a hand across his neck.

“We're not here to discuss a dead man's shortcomings. We're here to discuss your inheritance,” Zepp says, gaining my complete and utter attention.

I swallow the hard lump forming in my overly sensitive throat and shake my head. Rage once again boils in the pit of my stomach. How could a man who gave me life walk away without contributing anything and have his two favorite sons show up and tell me there's money? Nope. Even if I need it more than anything right now, I still have my morals.

“I don't want his fucking money. I don't want anything from the piece of shit. He kicked Ma and me out without anything but the clothes on our backs. Ma dragged us back here, and we've lived on food stamps and the medical card for fucking years. I don't need a damn dime from Corbin West,” I hiss, jumping to my feet, which is a damn miracle these days. “I've done fucking fine without him.”

My teeth grit when pity takes over Seger's eyes as they fall on my giant stomach protruding from my long band shirt. I frown when he doesn't take his eyes off it, staring like he's never seen something like it before

“What? You’ve never seen a pregnant woman before?” I chide, narrowing my eyes at him.

He snorts playfully, running a hand down his face. “Sure, I have. It’s just fucking uncanny. You’re as far along as our wife. Twenty-eight weeks, right?” He looks at me as my hand flies to my stomach and my nose scrunches.

“Um, yeah,” I say quieter before nibbling on my lip when he nods.

“Do you have time for lunch?” Zepp asks, gesturing toward a diner across the street.

I lick my lips, envisioning a delicious burger and strawberry milkshake, as a loud rumble erupts from my stomach. I could have denied lunch because of a lack of funds. My stomach, on the other hand, had other plans and outed me for the starving woman I am.

“Now that you know we're your brothers, we have some shit we'd like to discuss with you. And I think you may want to hear it,” Seger says with a little too much enthusiasm, licking his lips.

When I finally meet his eyes, indecision weighs heavily on my mind. They showed me their licenses with their names on them. So, I shouldn't be afraid. But something holds me rooted to the spot. Every person I've ever trusted has left me dangling over the cliff with no way back up. Who is to say they're different? Are they lying to gain something from me? Is there an inheritance to receive? I blow out a breath, weighing my damn options. It isn't until Zeppelin speaks that I finally decide to say fuck it.

“Let's get some burgers, fries, and hell—a milkshake. We do have things to discuss with you—important things,” Zepp tacks on with a convincing voice.

I lick my lips again and finally sigh. “Fine. Class was fucking boring today, anyway. Who cares about the history of business bullshit? Take me to lunch, but don't expect me to take a damn handout,” I gripe, shutting my computer down and closing it. Quickly, I pick up a small backpack-style purse and fling it over my shoulder before grabbing a set of keys off the counter.

Whatever this lunch leads to, I'll listen. But I won't make any promises, especially regarding the people in my family.

“Hold the Weiner,” I say, putting a finger in the air. My entire body trembles with my mouth hanging open. Did they say what I think they said? There's no way in hell. This can't be right. “Twenty million dollars? Shut the front door,” I gasp, slumping on the bench as the waitress drops off my delicious strawberry milkshake and mounds of food. I've been starving all day, holding out for the food I got from the store. But when we came in, they said to order whatever I wanted. And who am I to deny that? “I just… I can't… he just…” I stutter, shoving a handful of fries into my mouth, and moan at the greasy, salty taste slithering across my desperate taste buds. God, this is even better than sex.

“Twenty million is just the tip of the iceberg, River. More will be deposited, according to our father's lawyer. He left money for each of you…”

“Each of us?” I ask, taking a swig of my milkshake. “You've met…”

“All fucking fourteen of the West children, yeah. We've been down that road, and you, dear sister, are the last damn one,” Seger mumbles, shoving his cheeseburger into his mouth with the same zest as me. Maybe we're more alike than I thought. “Fuck. Nothing beats a quaint little diner’s burger,” he moans around his food, taking another bite.

“Animal,” Zepp grumbles, taking a small bite of his burger.

Every muscle in my body locks up at the sultry sound blasting through the speakers. Looking around, every patron stops what they're doing to marvel at the song playing overhead with smiles. Seger bobs his head with a grin, closing his eyes and taking the tune in, seeming pleased with himself.

My milkshake turns to ash on my tongue, and heavy lead is in my twisting stomach. I've avoided everything Whispered Words from the moment they walked away without another word. I've avoided anything online mentioning their newly found success and articles interviewing them for various reasons. If I hazard a guess, I'd say they're taking over the world one song at a time.

“Is this?” Zepp asks, tilting his head.

“Fucking right it is. They're hella fucking talented, and I can't believe they came out of nowhere,” Seger says with a grin, turning to look at me.

His face falls at the sight of what I'm sure is my pale face. Moisture beads above my lip as a heat of rage boils my blood, and my fists clench under the table.

Angry tears pool in my eyes, and my breath shudders in my chest. Of all the songs I could have heard today, why did it have to be theirs? And why did it have to be Roaring River? Like, do they seriously sing that still? Why couldn't they have lost and gotten what they deserved? To rot in the depths of hell. I swear to God, one day, I will enact my revenge on the boys who stole my heart, crushed it, and then abandoned me when I needed them most.

“Whispered Words,” I mutter with my lips twisting into an angry scowl.

“Uh, yeah. That's them. They won the Battle of the Bands seven months ago and have taken the world by storm. They're absolutely…”

“Absolute fuck heads,” I hiss, clenching my teeth and unleashing my anger.

Seger holds up a hand. “Um… I feel like I'm missing something,” he mutters, side-eyeing his brother with confusion.

Licking my lips, an ingenious idea pops into my mind, easing some of the rage boiling over. I swear the moment my body decided to create a tiny human, my emotions ran rampant. So, with that thought, I'll use all my energy and become what I've always wanted to become—a band manager. And who better to give me a chance than the brothers I happened to meet?

“I'll sign the papers for the money,” I say, taking a deep breath, but steely determination settles on my shoulders.

“Okay, cool,” Zepp says, reaching down for the manilla envelope and placing it on the table.

“On one stipulation,” I grind out, looking over the papers with so many zeros I nearly faint on the spot.

“What's that?” Seger asks.

“I want a job at West Records. I want to intern. I want to become a band manager,” I say, nodding vigorously as I look over the papers again. “I have experience managing bands from the area. So, in return, I'll sign the papers if you give me a job. I'll move out to California and start as soon as possible.”

Whatever it fucking takes. I'll start at the bottom again and work my way up. I'm not entitled enough to think they'd hand me a corner office and say, “have at it.” No. I want to learn and dive deep into the music industry. So, when my chance comes, and I come face to face with the dickless wonders who left me, I'll be in charge.

“I… Umm…” Seger looks at Zepp, who scratches his chin.

“To become a manager is a hefty undertaking. You'd have to intern at the bottom and get a feel for it. A bachelor’s in music management is a necessity at West Records. We want the best of the best, but you're family. And if you want a job…”

“I'll start at the bottom. I'll sort fucking mail. I want this…” I say again with a snarl, taking another gulp of milkshake to calm myself down.

“But why? You could take your inheritance and never work another day in your life. Why would you want to?”

I rub my stomach, caressing the tiny human inside who depends on me and only me to provide for her. Looking out the window, heavy memories plague my mind. The laughs. The love. The fucking heartbreak. Everything I've endured over the past year sits on my shoulders daily. And I'm tired of it. I want a fresh start in the industry I've been dreaming about.

“I'm getting my business degree right now and working through summer programs to obtain it ASAP. I can change my major to music business. I'll put in the work. Anything to make those assholes pay for what they did to me.” I frown slightly, shaking myself out of my haunting thoughts. I don't need to think of Callum's innocent smile or Rad's contagious laugh. I have to focus on what's suitable for Lyric and me.

“Who?” Zepp asks, furrowing his brows.

“They promised they'd take me with them. They promised… they loved me.” A slight hiccup escapes from my trembling lips, but I look away, refusing to let them see me break. I've cried enough, and today, that stops. “They promised me everything, and I believed every lie they told.” I swallow hard, vigorously wiping away the tears falling down my cheeks. “They left me, and they left her,” I whisper, pointing to my belly.

Seger blows out a breath, filled with so much fucking confusion, and I have to bite my cheek to stop smiling. “Who?” he grumbles, shaking his head.

I stare out the window again, letting the emotions take hold. “Whispered Words promised me the world, and then they turned their back on me.”

“They… They what?” Seger asks, curling his fists on the table.

“Not now,” Zepp grumbles, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “We have watchers.” With that, Zepp nods for us to follow him as he pays the bill.

The warm sun greets us when we step out of the diner, and I sigh, clutching the envelope tightly to my chest.

“They did this to you?” Seger immediately asks, pointing angrily to my stomach.

“Well, I was an active participant in the endeavor,” I quip with a snort when he pales, looking away. “But yeah, this is one of theirs.”

“I'll kill them,” he murmurs, clenching his fists.

“No need,” I say with a shrug, looking off into the distance. “I'll do it.” Once I get my hands on them, I'll make them wish they never attempted to use me.

“Okay. You have a job, then,” Zepp says, stroking his chin.

My heart soars with excitement, and I grin. “Thank you! Seriously, it's been my damn dream job to do this.”

“Paid internship. We'll have you start in the office, delivering mail. Once you've had the baby and come back, we can start getting you more acclimated. And once you have your degree…”

“I'm working on it and have been for a year. I'm on track to get my associates in December through the quick pace program.” Tears form in my eyes, and I sniffle. “Thank you for tracking me down and giving me this. I don't want his money, but…” I shake my head, roll my lips together and gather my emotions.

“By the looks of it, you need it. We had no idea that he saved it for you all these years. So, take the money and come start your new life in East Point Bluff with us,” Zeppelin says, putting a hand on my shoulder and squeezing.

“I'll need maybe two weeks to get everything squared away here,” I say, meeting Zepp's eyes, and he nods.

“Of course,” he says with a slight grin. “I have a good feeling about you, River.”

I snort, wiping away the stupid hormonal tears dripping out of my eyes. “Thanks for taking a chance on me.”

“Eh, what's a long, lost, forgotten family for? We couldn't help you when we were kids, but we sure as fuck can help you now. Pack your bags, little sister. We're going to California.”

California. All my dreams are coming true in the blink of an eye.

“To California,” I mumble with an excited grin.

“But first, maybe sign the papers, and we can get all this wired into a secure bank account for you. That'll help with the move…”

And so much more than they even knew. That night, my brothers left on a private jet, needing to get back to their pregnant wife, leaving me to stew in my newly found fortune.

The next day, as soon as the money was within my grasp, I did what I always wanted to do. I paid off Booker's mortgage, the loan on the bar, and the record store. The man who took so many chances on me now lives a debt-free life and can focus on the greater things. Every cent of Korrine’s, Odette’s, and Leon’s debt was erased with the money I paid for them to move into a beautiful new house with zero bills. From here on out, I’ll pay their monthly expenses and let them live the life they deserve. They’ve been through everything with me and have been by my side for all of it, never turning their backs.

Over the next two weeks, I helped Booker rent the apartment above the record store to a new worker down on her luck. She was a great fit and took over my position. Leon managed to snag the manager title at the bar and quickly took over my duties easily.

Finally, the day came when I have to say my goodbyes. Odette cries the entire time we say our goodbyes in the empty airplane hangar, hugging for what seems like an eternity. My rock. My best fucking friend. And I was about to say goodbye to it all. Well, not goodbye, goodbye. But I hadn’t lived more than ten feet away from her for the last twelve years, and now, I was headed to a different coast by myself.

“I'll call every day,” I murmur, hugging her tight.

“And my niece!” she wails, sprinkling her tears on my shoulder. “I'll miss her birth…”

“I'll fly you out. I want you there if you want to be,” I say with emotions clogging my throat.

Odette chuckles, pulling back to cup my face. “You're a rich bitch now. I'll fly you out?” She snorts when I crack a smile.

“You're my sister,” I murmur, patting her hand. “I'll miss the hell out of you,” I grunt when she throws her arms around me again.

“You make them pay,” she sniffles on my shoulder. “Make them regret ever fucking around with you, okay?”

“Believe me, Ode. By the time I'm done with Whispered Words, they won't know their ass from their elbows. Anyway, I know how. I'll fucking destroy them,” I vow, formulating the long game I'll have to play to get at them.

By now, they're living their rock star dreams under the spotlight with their adoring fans at their feet. But my time will come, and they'll be under my heel, and I'll squish them like the little bugs they are.

“You ready?” Zepp asks, nodding toward the private fucking jet they brought to pick me up in.

“Yeah,” I say, wiping my tears. “It's time for me to go,” I whisper, squeezing Ode's hand one last time before getting on the jet. “Thanks for coming and getting me. The stupid airlines wouldn't let me travel,” I grumble, putting my seatbelt over my belly.

“What's ours is yours now,” Seger says, shrugging when he gets comfortable.

“So, are you ever going to tell us exactly what this band did to you?” Zepp asks, sitting back as the plane moves down the runway.

I shrug, staring out the window. “One day,” I murmur, watching as the cornfields stretch in for miles and miles, and I settle back in my seat.