Eleven - Asher
The tall buildings of East Point surround me, shining in the bright morning sunlight. I squint my eyes, taking a deep breath as I psych myself up for my rendezvous with the devil herself. Who knows if I’ll make it out alive to tell the damn tale.
All around me, people bustle by, entering the high-end stores lining the area with bright smiles on their faces and exiting with an armful of bags, giggling about their purchases. Speaking of…two stores down, two brunettes dressed to the nines in expensive clothes and jewelry stop abruptly on the sidewalk with shock splayed on their faces.
“Oh, my God,” one woman squeals ten yards away. Her big eyes widen, and her jaw drops, staring at me with awe like I’m a fucking rare God standing before them. “That’s Asher Montgomery from Whispered Words!” she hisses with excitement to her friend beside her while jumping in place.
“Oh, my God! It is!” her friend shouts, promptly covering her mouth in embarrassment as high-pitched giggles escape from behind her hand. A pinkish tint takes over her cheeks as she stares in my direction with wide eyes.
“I heard they were living closer now.” The first girl says in what she thinks is a whisper, but her voice carries loudly to my ears. Quickly, I hold in the cringe, making me want to melt away from the situation.
Inwardly, I groan, loathing this evil side of fame. For one split second years ago, I adored the attention and fucking ate it up with a spoon. I fucking encouraged it with a sick grin, craving the attention of the crowds coming to see us. It took me a long time to realize that no one wanted to know the real me. They didn’t want to sit down and have an easy conversation. They wanted my fucking dick. Not conversation. Maybe a baby to claim what’s mine. The fans want the man I portray on stage with the cocky smirk and sexy swagger. They want Asher Montgomery, the guitar player of Whispered Words. And that’s a straight punch to the gut because the Asher on stage and the Asher walking the streets are two very different people.
This is all part of the gig. I know it is. But it’s fucking annoying that I can’t walk out of the house without someone approaching me for pictures and autographs. Some people—no matter their gender—offer themselves up to me on a silver platter. Years ago, I was tempted by their sexy curves and golden smiles. Tempted, being the key word. I’ve kept my dick firmly in my pants since the night I fucked River on that dining room table and came happily in her eager cunt. Believe me, that moment repeatedly sits on a high pedestal in the back of my head. Especially when the loneliness I’ve imposed on myself crushes my soul one squeeze at a time. My heart has only beat for one annoying Little Brat, even after all these years. It’ll never change. No matter how much she loathes us. My heart is hers and has been for the past few years. My guilt has sat with me for too long to settle down, let alone bone another chick.
Politely, I wave as the fans drag their phones out and snap several pictures of me standing before my self-inflicted doom. I try to plaster on a fake smile and greet them with the kindness I don’t currently feel.
“Can we take some selfies?” one girl asks, dragging her friend by the hand and stopping before me. She grins when I nod, and we take several selfies together, huddling in a tight hug. Our smiles light up the photos, despite the annoyance I feel.
“Make sure you tag me on FlashGram,” I say as she squeals again, nodding in agreement, and they walk away without another word.
I blow out a breath, swiping a hand down my face, trying to forget the dread building like a damn storm coming. Lead sits heavy in the pit of my churning stomach when I take a step forward, continuing to tell myself this is a good idea. Yeah, a really good fucking idea to come here. I hang my head, peering around again and avoiding the issue at hand. A war is about to begin in the confines of this apartment building.
There’s absolutely nothing cheerful about the situation I’m walking into. My stomach turns as I walk through the belly of the beast, waving hello to the front desk clerk, and then enter the large elevator. When I hit the top floor button, my fingers tremble from the uncontainable anger rising through my body.
As the elevator whirrs to life, my mind drifts to River’s statements about the restraining orders and abortion check she tore to pieces. Oh, how I wish I were a fly on the wall when River told Gloria to fuck off.
The more I think about the shit Gloria pulled, the more my rage consumes me. Sure, I played an equal part in River’s demise, but I never barred her from speaking to us permanently. I never told her to get rid of our kid. I just…did something almost equally as wrong. I grip my hair at the mounting frustration and heave a breath.
“Get a hold of yourself,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut. “Fuck,” I grunt, lightly tapping my forehead against the mirrored wall.
As the doors slowly slide open, I step out into the luxurious hallway illuminated by the sun leaking through the tall windows. Opulence decorates every inch of the space. From the beautiful chandelier to the gorgeous paintings lining the walls to the expensive luxury apartment I’m about to walk into—number forty-seven—on the top floor of the largest, most expensive apartment complex in East Point. Only the best for dear old Gloria—she can’t seem to hold down a job or take care of her child. Since my father met his fate and got carted off to prison, Kieran’s mother has been our problem. Five years of hell in her presence, why not another minute?
I raise a hesitant fist to the inconspicuous white door, halting mid-knock. Do I really want to look into the eyes of the woman who ruined my life without a second thought? No. I’d rather avoid Gloria as I’ve successfully done for years. Our only interactions are at Christmas when we return to see Camilla and dote on her as she deserves. But Fuck. This is something unavoidable. It’s the only way I’ll get to the bottom of everything, and then I can start repairing it one piece at a time.
Annoyance rises inside me as I pound my fist into the door with much more force than necessary, gleefully watching the hinges shake. On the other side, tiny footfalls flitter through the air, and the door swings open, revealing Gloria still in her red silk pajamas and glazed-over eyes.
“Asher, what brings you here?” Gloria’s face scrunches as her eyes rake up and down my body with a disapproving frown. “I wasn’t expecting you today.” Gloria tilts her head, and a look of concern crosses her twisted-up face.
“We need to talk,” I demand, pushing into her apartment and whirling around. I cross my arms over my chest, glaring in her direction as she softly closes the door.
“Talk? Sure, why don’t you just come on in,” Gloria snaps, furiously storming toward the large kitchen. “Could I interest you in a drink, Asher?”
I run a hand down my face in exasperation and nod. “Sure, a drink would be nice.” And make it fucking stiff—is what I want to say, but I hold my tongue as she flitters into the kitchen, humming angrily about uninvited guests.
“So, what brings you to my neighborhood? I barely see you boys, and we live in the same damn town,” she says with disdain, entering the elegant living room with two coffee cups. I raise a brow, noting the steam wafting from one cup as she gently hands it to me, and the familiar smell of coffee hits my senses, perking me up. Sitting beside me, she cocks her head to the side. “How’s the band going? Any new tours ahead of you?” She sniffs her cup with satisfaction and takes a gulp, only slightly grimacing when she pulls back.
Of course, she wants to know about any new tours to line her own damn pockets. She’s been bleeding Kieran dry since he’s struck it rich, and she loves her walking, talking, piggy bank.
“So, have you heard from my father?” I know the answer as soon as it leaves my lips. Gloria scoffs, taking a sip of her drink, gearing up to defend herself for her actions. But fuck that, I let my tongue take the lead—consequences be damned. “That’s right, you don’t really talk to him after you sent his ass to federal prison, do you?” Not that I fucking care his ass is in prison. I’m glad he’s behind bars where he can’t hurt another soul on the outside. He’s where he belongs, and now, we can protect ourselves and Cami from his wrath.
She blinks several times, and I know I’ve hit the mark on the head. “Well, I had to do what I had to do,” she retorts quickly without missing a beat. “What was I supposed to do when the FBI showed up on my doorstep with evidence? Turn them away? Go to prison with him? I think not.” She sniffs haughty, sticking her nose in the air. “I turned him in like he deserved. It was a win-win for all of us.”
“It might have been a good place for you,” I mutter under my breath, earning a death glare. Perhaps she’s not too drunk yet and still has her wits about her. I need to hold my damn tongue until I can get more information out of her.
“You’ll do well to remember who helped bring you to where you are now. If it wasn’t for my contribution and the car I allowed you to take, you’d be no one,” she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder and lifting her chin. “If it wasn’t for me, then you’d be in prison yourself, and I’d still be stuck in that loathsome little city. This is where we belong, Asher. You’ll do good to remember what we deserve.” What we deserve? Is the alcohol making her dumber as we speak? What the hell kind of high horse shit is she on? “So, who cares if your father is spending the rest of his life in prison for embezzling everything? I sure don’t.”
“Of course, you fucking don’t.” I grind out. “Nothing has changed for you. We still pay your way.” Because of our little sister Cami and that’s it.
“If you’re going to continue to insult me, then I’m going to insist you leave. Is this really what you wanted to talk about?” she growls as multiple veins pop in her forehead and her face flushes.
“No, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “Since we’re bringing up the past, let’s have a little discussion.”
“Oh?” she questions with a frown, probably seeing her future being ripped away.
“Yeah, Whispered Words is officially on probation. Apparently, our sales have been down, and now they’re trying to fix us, or we’re fired.” I blink a few times as her expression falls, and deep worry takes over her sadistic eyes, which widen in horror at our new reality.
“What do you mean your sales are down?” she snarls in my direction, acting like it’s all my fault we aren’t performing well.
She wouldn’t be wrong, though. We’ve sucked it up this past year, unable to mesh any fucking more. It was only a matter of time before someone pulled the plug. At least this way, we’re getting a second chance. Her body sits rigidly next to me, fury blazing through her veins.
“Just what I said,” I say through gritted teeth, glaring in her direction. “Our sales are down, and now we have a new band manager. Can you guess who that is?” My fists clench in my lap when she sneers at me.
“No, I don’t know who it could be. Why would I know?” she asks with innocence, moving her body away from mine. She takes a small sip of what I can only guess is alcohol in her coffee cup, and I sigh.
“Because you spend enough of Kieran’s money, I figure you’d know all our business,” I snark, gnashing my teeth together.
Get your shit together and stop letting her stupid face get to you. Fuck. I take a deep, relieving breath to blow the frustration away. There’s nothing that gets my blood boiling more than Gloria Montgomery.
I know why Kieran and I decided to move Gloria closer. I only wish we didn’t have to. Her broke ass should have stayed in Central City. Back on the poor side, where she came from. Maybe a little humbling could do her some good.
But we did it for our teenage sister, Camilla. She means the absolute world to us, and we wanted to protect her from Gloria’s manipulative ways. Luckily, she got away from my father’s abuse before it was too late. But Gloria is a whole other story. So, with strong suggestion, our little sister now attends the new East Point Prep a few miles away on the edge of town, safely tucked away in her dorm room. Far the fuck away from the toxicity, sucking the life away from this apartment. When we aren’t on tour, we make sure to take Cami out for lunch and catch up on how middle school is going.
“If you just came here to insult me, you can leave,” she says, sticking her nose in the air. Her finger points toward the door, and by the look in her eyes, she’s shutting down fast.
“River West is our new manager.” There. I said it. Let the fucking pin drop.
Gloria’s face falls, and her hand comes up to her heart. Slumping back onto the couch, she vigorously shakes her head in disbelief. “But-but, we got rid of her. There’s no way that slutty little Central girl is your new manager. She must have slept her way to the top, like every other girl from that side of town. There’s absolutely no way. You have got to be joking,” she scoffs, leaning down to take a massive gulp from her coffee cup.
Funny. That’s precisely what Gloria did to snag my father as her prize. She slept around and climbed her way to the top, one man at a time, until she locked down the wealthiest man she could with a baby, and he couldn’t deny it. And yet, here she is comparing River, who worked two fucking jobs and went to college all by herself with no help. Oh, the irony of it all.
“Yeah, and she’s had some pretty interesting things to say about you and what happened after we left,” I say, raising my eyebrows when her face pales, and she purses her lips, looking far from innocent. In fact, as the statement settles, the shock evaporates, and she smirks with victory. No doubt reliving the moment she permanently booted River from our existence.
Imagine what could have happened if River had been able to call us and explain her pregnancy. No matter how angry they were at her, they would have wanted to know Lyric. Something I’ll forever feel guilty about. Fuck. The burning in my chest rises again, sending the nasty taste of acid up my throat and onto my tongue. I rub a hand over my burning heart, wishing the pain would stop before an ulcer forms.
“And by the way, River isn’t just some Central girl. River is worth way more than you’ll ever be. And I can’t believe I let you talk me into doing what I did,” I retort without thinking, letting my brewing emotions take the damn lead. Thankfully, I keep the essential part of the equation to myself. For now, at least. She doesn’t deserve to know she has a grandchild who will never know who she is.
“Oh please, don’t tell me I didn’t do the right thing. That Central slut was going to ruin your lives. And you boys were just going to stand back and let it happen. Not on my watch! I had to do something to get her out of the way completely. Even after she told me that little lie about her being pregnant, all she was ever after was your money. She was so damn desperate, too,” she says with a roll of her eyes, dramatically huffing.
I study every freckle on Gloria’s offended face. True evil lies behind her eyes. She may not look like somebody that could take you down, but in her own unique way, she can. Every emotion hits me at once, amplifying the guilt closing my throat. Gloria unabashedly used me. She took my feelings, my anger, my desperation and put them in the palm of her hand, effortlessly using them against me with her sly, perfectly placed words.
I pull at the collar of my designer shirt and swallow hard. I swear my heart pounds in my ears, drowning out everything else. Gloria expertly manipulated me into doing what she wanted. With her twisted words and helping hand, she got exactly what she desired—getting rid of River. For good. The money she offered me and the promise to keep my father out of it had me where she wanted me, on my knees and begging for more.
Slowly, I get to my feet and chug the rest of the warm coffee she brought me, grimacing at the bitter taste on my tongue. As I contemplate my next moves, I look around, taking in the grand elegance of the home we’ve provided her with.
Gloria has everything from professional paintings hanging on the wall to the tiny one-of-a-kind designer statue sitting in the corner. And now, her end is near. I will never let another human being manipulate me the way she did.
My gut churns and bile rises at the entire situation. “So, after you manipulated me into this with the promise of money and my father out of the picture, while the boys and I were away and we won, you swooped in and ensured that River would never be able to talk to us again. Did you really think we would never find out about the restraining orders? Or the check you gave her?” My voice rises with every word, making her cringe back.
“Why do you care what some Central girl has to say? So what if I gave her four restraining orders? Judge Drake had no qualms about helping me secure your future and Van’s,” she says with a wave of her hand like it means absolutely nothing that she ruined not only River’s life but Lyric’s. “Besides, look at you now. You guys are the biggest rock stars around. What is she going to do?”
“River is in charge of our contract, Gloria. If we fuck up, then River sends us on our way. Our contract will be void. No more money. No more rock star status.” I shake my head, running a hand through my hair in frustration. Tightly, I grip the longer ends, basking in the release of my festering temper. Talking to Gloria is like talking to a four-year-old who doesn’t understand the word no. Hell, Lyric understands better than this grown woman, and I’ve only had brief conversations with her.
I slam my cup down with more force than necessary, praying a crack forms. Glaring down, I take in every inch of Gloria’s pathetic form. What a conniving, money-hungry woman she’s become. If only she’d known what an exceptional little girl Lyric would become.
“And you’re wrong, by the way. River wasn’t lying about the baby. Congratulations, Grandma,” I say just as I maneuver through the front door, slamming it in her shocked face before she can utter a single word.
Racing down the hallway toward the elevator, I press the bottom floor button and slump against the mirrors as every inch of my flesh tingles and trembles with the exhaustion sweeping through me. So, it’s all true. Everything River has been adamant about. Gloria served River with actual restraining orders, signed by a real sneaky judge, hellbent on getting everyone away from River and isolating her. I may have driven the guys out, but Gloria put the nail in the coffin. No wonder I never found River online whenever I snooped. She’d either erased herself off social media or blocked us long ago.
As I make my way out of the building, I clutch my chest and let the entirety of the situation crash down on me. I made the most monumental mistake of my life. Not only did it affect me, but it affects five other people. Old Asher was selfish, stuck up, and a manipulative asshole, and I let Gloria rule over me, bending my will for a few thousand dollars. She dangled my little sister’s safety in front of my eyes like a carrot on a string, playing with my need to protect her. I knew it was the only way to drag them to safety, away from my controlling and abusive father. So, I did what I did to protect the people around me. When the only thing that my heart truly wanted was the girl I left behind on purpose.
Leaning against the sleek high-rise, I take several deep breaths and process the conversation I just had. Nothing prepares you for walking into the lion’s den, and that’s what I just did. As I search the distance and all the stores surrounding me, filled to the brim with shoppers and happy mothers and daughters and sons, a familiar person catches my eye across the street, coming out of the phone store with a perplexed look adorning her cute face. In a split-second decision, I make my way across the street and loom over her small frame as she stares down at a new phone in her hand. Before I open my mouth, I take the time to examine the woman River has become. And boy, do I like what I see.