Chapter 34 Kate
KATE
THIS WASN’T IN THE SETLIST
“Ain’t it just like you to show up now/Kickin' dust and stirrin' doubt/You ain't love, you’re just bad news/Lookin' for a heart to bruise.” Kate Riggs
I’m tired. Strike that. I’m overly tired. I’ve been on the road, and the show went longer than expected due to lighting issues, and now, I just want to get to my damn room.
My feet ache from standing too long in my worn boots, my throat’s still raw from the show, and my brain is fried from smiling too hard at too many people. Sometimes, the fact that everyone is a stranger is a bit depressing. But that’s the business. My rising star power hasn’t changed that.
The second I step off the elevator, I tug my jacket tighter around me, ready to collapse face-first into the hotel bed. But I don’t even make it down the hallway when my past confronts me. I anticipated running into a band member or a fan, not him.
“Kate.”
The voice makes me freeze. He’s a man now, but he’s smoother than he used to be, and he’s got that smug look on his face. Even his accent and charm are fake. He moves as if he’s in an AI-generated commercial.
Wade.
I whip around, my pulse is thrumming in my chest. He’s leaning against the wall like he owns it with his hands in his pockets. His eyes are roving over me like I’m a piece of meat. I shiver because the thought of speaking to him makes my skin crawl.
“What the hell are you doing here?” My voice is louder than I intended because my ears are still full of the band’s music and the sound of the fans who sang along with me, but I don’t care. I think it’s fantastic that they know my lyrics.
“Relax,” he says, pushing off the wall and strolling toward me like we planned this meeting. “I just wanted to talk.”
“I’ve got nothing to say to you.” It comes out with a southern accent. He reminds me of home, which brings back all the nuances of my life that I left behind when I boarded the plane to Vegas over a month ago.
But something about Wade that sets my ass on fire. He’s told lies about me. He tried to discredit me, and I can’t forgive him.
I glance toward my room, calculating how fast I can get to the door. But Wade is cunning and steps in, blocking my path.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, his smile slipping into something darker, eyes narrowing. “You’re famous now, and you forget your roots? You forget the people who were there for you before the big paychecks and bright lights?”
He’s playing the martyr. My stomach turns, but I pull my shoulders back and lift my chin.
“Yeah, I’ve been avoiding you,” I snap. “Because you sold your lies to the tabloids, Wade. You’re an asshole.”
He just smirks, and he moves in closer. “Oh, come on, Heavenleigh. We both know I wasn’t lying about everything.” The way he says my name is a dig. He knows I don’t like it.
I flinch because his sickeningly sweet voice grates on my nerves.
“You should go,” I spat out, my voice shaking with rage and fueled by adrenaline. I haven’t decompressed, which is why I wanted to hide in my room for an hour.
“In case you didn’t hear me the first time….Leave. Now.”
But he doesn’t move. No, the dumbass steps even closer, and my temper flares. But by the time I realize I’m cornered, he steps closer.
“Don’t act like you’re too good for me now,” Wade mutters, his voice dripping with bitterness and regret. “You loved me once, remember? Before all this.”
I open my mouth to yell at him—but suddenly, another voice cuts through the thick air.
“She said, leave.”
Finn.
His voice is low, steady, but dangerous—like a stick of dynamite that’s ready to blow. I whip my head toward him, in relief and dread that tangles in my chest.
He’s walking toward us, and his eyes are locked on Wade, his whole body tense, and he looks like he’s going to hit someone. Almost lethal.
Wade scoffs, but I see the flicker of hesitation in his eyes because Finn is an unknown. He’s not a classmate from back home, who are the only people Wade knows, and the same people he bullies.
“Look who finally showed up,” Wade says with fake laughter in his voice. “I don’t remember anyone inviting you to this conversation, Johanson.”
Finn doesn’t even blink. He steps between us, and it pushes Wade back with nothing but sheer force of presence.
“Walk away,” Finn says, voice like gravel. “Before I make you.”
Wade’s mouth tightens. “You gonna hit me too, tough guy? Add another suspension to your record?”
My heart lurches, but Finn doesn’t so much as flinch.
“Try me,” Finn growls. “She’s my wife, she’s mine and you’d better remember that, because I protect what’s mine.”
The air cracked like a whip, and Finn is one wrong move away from exploding.
Wade stares him down for another long second, but he’s a coward at heart and backs off, muttering under his breath, “Not worth it.”
Then he turns and stalks off down the hallway, leaving my whole body shaking from the adrenaline dump. My air comes out in a whoosh. I didn’t even realize I wasn’t breathing.
Finn watches him until he’s gone, then finally turns to me.
“You okay?” His voice softens, but there’s still a bite of anger in it.
I take a step back, chest tight. “What the hell was that, Finn?” I search his eyes, they’re steely and cold.
He blinks, thrown off by the sharpness in my voice, or the attitude, I’m not sure which, but I made my point. I’m pissed.
“I just—he wouldn’t leave you alone. This is the second time he’s shown up, and he wants to get you alone. He’s stalking you, and you froze, Kate. I wasn’t gonna let him—”
“What the hell was that?” My voice comes out sharp, breathless from more than just that kiss.
“I handled it,” he says, his voice cool, steady.
“Handled it?” I glare at him, heat rising in my chest. “You didn’t handle anything. You bulldozed in here like some caveman, spoke of me like I couldn’t speak for myself, and picked a fight that wasn’t yours to start.”
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t back down.
“I’m not gonna stand there and watch him get his hands on you,” he growls, eyes dark. “Not happening.”
My blood boils hotter.
“I didn’t need you to save me, Finn,” I snap, planting both hands on my hips. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it long before you came around.”
“That wasn’t taking care of yourself,” he bites back, voice low and sharp. “That was you sitting there, frozen, letting him inch closer and closer while you waited for what? Is he starting to mouth off again? Grab you? Maybe kiss you?”
“I had it under control,” I lie, though we both know I was too stunned to move fast enough.
He steps closer, but his eyes narrow. “You didn’t look like you had it under control, princess.”
God, that title, like I’m fragile—his tone—everything about him in this moment has my heart slamming against my ribs in equal parts fury and something I can’t even pinpoint.
“Don’t twist this and make it about me. You don’t get to play the hero here, Finn. You don’t get to control every situation just because it makes you uncomfortable.”
He stares at me, but I can’t read him. “I’m not controlling you. I’m protecting what’s mine.”
Ah, there it is. I’m his possession.
“I’m not your goddamn property,” I whisper, my voice shaking from how pissed off I am. “I’m your wife, not some prize you drag around to prove a point.”
The air between us thickens, sharp and volatile.
But I don’t back down.
I hold his gaze, daring him to keep playing this game.
Because no matter how hot that kiss was—no matter how much he thinks he’s doing the right thing—I refuse to let anyone control me.
Not even him. So I ask. “Do you think I’m helpless?”
“That’s not—” He rakes a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Kate, he cornered you.”
“I could’ve handled it,” I snap, even though I’m not sure I could. Wade is a large man. “But you didn’t even give me a chance.”
His jaw clenches, and he shifts on his feet. “I wasn’t about to stand there and watch him insult you or hurt you.”
“And what, you think that makes you a hero?” I take a breath because I need it.
I’m worked up. I should have stopped talking, but I’m wound too tight.
The fact that Wade was here to intimidate me is unnerving.
The truth is, I never knew he had it in him.
“You don’t get to control every situation just because you’re my husband, Finn. ”
His eyes darken, but he says nothing.
“You’re not my bodyguard.” I snap. Then, I simmer down and realize he really doesn’t have any rights. We’re faking this. “And I’m not yours, not really,” I whisper, and the statement makes me sad.
Silence stretches between us. It’s thick and it’s brutal. I insulted him over what? A man from my past who hurt my feelings years ago?
Finally, Finn speaks. “You’re my wife. I was protecting you.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You were claiming me. And I don’t know what pisses me off more—that you thought you had the right, or that for a second… I let you.”
His face hardens, but there’s something behind his eyes that guts me—hurt, maybe— something deeper.
Neither of us speaks. Perhaps it’s better that way. I turn, fumbling with the hotel key, desperate to get inside and away from him before I say something worse.
“Kate—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off. I can’t look at him. I overreacted and I hurt him, probably on purpose. Because as much as I want to believe we’re real, we’re not, and that hurts the most.
I shut the door in his face.
And for the first time since this whole fake marriage started, it feels like I finally put a wedge between us that will push him away.