Chapter 22 #2
Yeah, he needed a lawyer of his own, and to figure out what he wanted, which was whatever was best for the band. He’d need their input for that—including Zav’s thoughts.
’Cause Zav was as much a part of this as everyone else.
When you’re ready. He nearly heard the words in Zavier’s smooth voice, and nodded absently. He had a good idea when that was. Hopefully Zavier would be ready by then, too.
That time wasn’t yet, though. Lawyer first. He rubbed his eyes and paced the room. If Zavier were here, he’d ask him about Nadia Rudd. Surely she’d know a good entertainment lawyer. But he had to do this without Zav. Problem was, he didn’t know anyone else, really. Just the band, the crew and—
Five Asylum. He sucked in a breath. Gregor had given him his business card. If you ever need to talk shop.
Well, this was shop, wasn’t it? Ray dug out his notebook and fished the business card out of the little pouch in the back. He dialed the number before he changed his mind and listened to the ringing while his breath caught in his chest.
“Hello?” Given the deep voice, it absolutely was Gregor Daye on the other side.
“Hey, it’s Ray Van Zeller.”
A pause. “Hello, Ray. I suppose I shouldn’t be entirely surprised to hear from you, given everything.”
He couldn’t help the bitter laugh. “To be honest, I have no idea what’s out in the public right now. It really doesn’t matter.”
“It never does.” Spoken like Gregor knew and felt that. But then, he had fifteen years of stardom, so Ray bet he did. “Are you healthy?”
“Yeah, I am. I’m—lucky.”
“Good. And yes, I gathered that.” Another long silence. “What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping you could recommend a lawyer. Or knew someone who could.”
A laugh. “You’re a smart kid. And yes, I can. She’s worked very hard for us over the years, and I’m sure her firm can help you with what you need.”
Ray scribbled down the name, Tara Gonfaus, and the number into his notebook. Everything about the band was there—and this wouldn’t be any different. “Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.”
“Shit, there’s no need. Just be yourself and do good for someone down the line. That’s all.”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
Another chuckle from Gregor. “Take it easy, Ray.”
“You, too.”
And that was that. Ray put the phone on the bed and walked back and forth to burn off energy and anxiety.
Breathe. There was Zavier’s voice again. He obeyed, too. Because it helped. Those little tricks and the leather around his ankle. Being naked at Zavier’s feet.
Yeah, that wasn’t happening, not now. He wasn’t ready. But he could do something similar. Ray stopped pacing and pulled his T-shirt off. Everything else followed. Then he knelt on the floor, in front of the chair Zavier would have sat in, and folded himself into child’s pose.
In an instant, he was alive and so aware of himself, of how naked he was, how vulnerable.
And yeah, he got hard. But he also let go.
Let all of the shit vanish and slip away, except for his heartbeat and his breath.
He even let Zavier go—and the fleeting wonder if he’d be proud of Ray right now. Inhale, exhale, melt.
The noise in his head softened and vanished, and he melted, letting the floor support him. Letting himself be. Just as slowly, a quiet voice spoke, the assured one in the back of his head, the one so often drowned out by worry and the world. What do you want?
If he could have anything, if the world were fair, the best option for the band would be to cancel the contract with their label without penalty.
He had no trust in them; he doubted anyone in the band did.
Their playing and his composition would suffer if they stayed.
He didn’t want to give the label any more—especially since he’d nearly given his life because of their ineptitude.
Carl worked for the label and fought against Twisted Wishes and Ray at every turn.
Twisted Wishes would be better off elsewhere, either on their own or with another label—they could figure out which later.
Ray wanted Carl in jail. A deeply vindictive part really wanted him behind bars and suffering. More than anything, he wanted to know the reason behind all the shit he’d been through.
If the band was truly in debt to the label, he wanted that gone. Erased. And then some, because the label didn’t get to put them all through hell only to walk away with clean hands and no damage.
Yeah. That was a decent start. Ray pushed himself up to sitting and peered around the room. Everything seemed a little brighter and the tumult in his head was gone.
He dressed, grabbed his phone again, and made another call.
It went straight to the lawyer’s voicemail. He left a coherent message, and not five minutes later, got a call back.
“Mr. Van Zeller.” Ms. Gonfaus’s voice was clear, with a faint accent he couldn’t place. “I’m pleased you’ve reached out and I do hope we can help you.”
They spoke for quite some time, long enough that both Mish and Dom poked their heads in, and he waved them off. He took three pages of notes and gave the contact information for the police and the case number to her.
“I don’t think your wishes are unreasonable,” Ms. Gonfaus said. “Though I don’t think we’ll see Mr. Roberts in jail, given what we discussed.”
Yes, attempted murder was a serious charge, but the best they could hope for was attempted manslaughter, given the fact that Carl hadn’t meant to kill him.
That severe an allergy to what had turned out to be a common sleep medication was pretty rare.
No, Carl had wanted to embarrass Ray and destroy his career—not kill him.
Plea bargaining would likely take that down more, especially since Ray didn’t want to be dragged through a long and protracted court case.
“More’s the pity.”
She grunted. “Your bandmate is correct, as well. Someone from your legal team should be there when you speak to the police, even though you’re the victim.”
God, he hated that word, even if it was true. “I think Zav talked to the police that night.”
“Very likely.” She sighed. “We’ll also want to talk to your partner and the rest of the band if we’re to represent Twisted Wishes as a whole.”
“We can set something up.” He paused. “I haven’t even looked at the press.”
“Don’t if you don’t want to. Do if you do. But do not respond to any of it. There are two words you need to start using: no comment.”
He repeated them back to her, tasting them in his mouth. Yeah. “I can do that.”
“Good.” Something in Ms. Gonfaus’s voice softened. “You’ve been through quite a time, Mr. Van Zeller. Let us take it from here. I’ll call you tomorrow with an update.”
They said professional goodbyes and hung up. Ray stared at the time on the phone: 8:22. Holy shit. He wondered if lawyers charged time and a half. But then, he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be the one paying for Ms. Gonfaus’s services once all this was over.
He shuffled to the adjoining room and found both Mish and Dom there. “Hey.”
Both of them wore worry in their own way. Dom stood. “Hey, man.” His voice was a mess.
God. Ray was a fool to think he was the only one affected by all this. He crossed the room and pulled his oldest friend into a hug. “Dude, I’m fine.”
“Obviously.” That came out broken. “But you weren’t. Yesterday, you weren’t.”
He pulled back and gripped Dom’s shoulders. “Yeah, but it’s today, and I’m here and fine. And I’ve just spent god knows how long talking to a lawyer to get all this shit figured out.”
Dom blinked. “You—found a lawyer?”
Ray flopped into the chair Dom had vacated, and filled his bandmates in on what he’d been up to, leaving out the whole meditating-while-naked part. They didn’t need to know that.
He’d tell Zav later.
“So, now what?” Dom chewed on his nail.
Ray shrugged. “We wait. Lawyer said she’d call back tomorrow.” His gaze drifted to Mish’s tablet. “I also kinda want to see how this is all being spun.”
She grunted. “What I want is dinner.”
That would probably be a good idea. “I’m guessing that heading down to the hotel restaurant or going out would be a very bad plan.”
Dom’s laugh was bitter. “Oh yeah. I went down just to see what was up, and the place is crawling with paparazzi. I hightailed it out of there, just in case someone did recognize me.”
“The label hired some security. I think mainly to appease the hotel, since this shit is hitting them, too. Though I bet their bar receipts will be good,” Mish said.
“Fuck their receipts. And the label.” Ray sighed. “Guess it’s room service, then.”
She pushed a menu over. “We were waiting for you.”
He had to laugh. Then he had to keep from crying. Everything was so out of hand, but they’d get through it. “You guys are the best.”
Dom fidgeted. “What about Zav?”
Oh. Ray’s heart flipped at the thought of Zavier. His voice. Filling him in on all that had happened. Hearing what was in Zavier’s head, because he was damn well gonna pry that out. If nothing else, Zavier owed Ray that. “I’ll give him a call after dinner.”
“You’re not mad?” There was confusion in Dom’s voice.
He wasn’t. God, he missed Zavier so fucking much...but he was kind of glad for his absence, because it had proved something to Ray. He could be in control of himself and solve his own problems.
“He’s done so much for me. If he needs space to figure shit out, it’s the least I can give him.”
When you’re ready.
He was. All he needed was some food in his stomach.