55. Rory #2
“Why does anyone do anything? He did it because I paid him. It was quite simple, really.”
“But why? What did I ever do to you?” As I talk, I scan the room with my peripheral vision to see if there’s anything I could use to defend myself.
Her eyes narrow, and she points at me. “Everything was going smoothly until you showed up. Jace never had trouble following my husband’s suggestions until you got in his ear.
At first, I wanted Jace to wake up and ditch you so he could focus on the music, which is why I slashed the tour bus tire, but then I realized that approach was all wrong.
I figured if you thought Jace was sleeping with Marlowe, you’d go your merry way, but no.
You screwed up the signing with Bandit last night, but they’ll sign once you’re out of the picture. ”
“Is Frank part of your crazy scheme too?”
“Heavens, no. He’s too pure for this world.
Which is why he needs me to protect him.
Bands treat him like shit, and he just takes it.
Do you know how much we’ve struggled over the years because he’s managed so many losers?
That’s why I skimmed a little off the merch sales, and since Frank trusts me implicitly, he never checks my numbers. ”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You stole from the band. And Frank let you.”
“He never knew. He has such a good heart, you know? He believed in Jace’s stupid band for an entire decade. And Jace finally gets his shot and almost blows it for a tart like you. So no, he wasn’t part of this. Though I did get in his ear once in a while.”
“What does that mean?”
She tucks a strand of graying blonde hair behind her ear.
“Well, when you were being a pain in the ass and making Jace ditch rehearsal so he could take you to some wedding, I told Frank the band might do better with bunk beds instead of that nice master bedroom. Because you obviously had Jace wrapped around your finger, and I thought Jace needed to get his head on straight. So Frank called and got the buses switched.”
“Did Frank steal Jace’s phone while we were in Dallas?”
She chuckles again. “Edmond borrowed it so you wouldn’t distract him while Jace was recording.”
That week in Dallas nearly destroyed my relationship with Jace. “Did you send those early gifts before the tour started?”
She perches on the edge of the couch. “Jace spiraled after he had that dalliance with Marlowe. He partied nonstop and had no decorum whatsoever. I thought if I sent him gifts, he’d realize there was more to life than a redhead with a nice pussy.”
I’ve never heard her talk like this. “And when that didn’t do the trick, you started smashing the candies?”
“He needed a wake-up call. And it worked. We’re on tour now, aren’t we?” With her tote hanging on her arm, she moves in front of the TV opposite the couch.
This woman is batshit crazy. I laugh at her audacity. “You had nothing to do with his band’s success.” I need to keep her talking until Jace returns and away from Layla.
“Who do you think sold all of their swag for years? Me. Who photocopied flyers and put them up all over town?” She holds up her hand. “Right here. I did. Who drove from show to show with nary a complaint?” Her brows lift.
“You’re right. I stand corrected.” There’s no need to piss her off.
She gives me a once-over. “Do you know what your problem is?”
“Enlighten me.”
“You had Jace eating out of the palm of your hand and didn’t know it. He almost blew it last week when Niles wanted them to shoot a music video of him and Marlowe in bed. Jace refused. For you, you silly girl.”
He never told me that. “He’s a good man.” The best, I realize.
“That poor boy might actually be upset when you ghost him, as the kids say. We’ll just have to find ways to cheer him up.” She glances at her watch. “We’re running out of time, so drink the damn water.”
I pale. She’s going to act like I ghosted Jace? That’s what Marlowe did. I’d never hurt him like that. But what if Susan pulls this off and Jace never knows how much I love him? “Or what?” I ask.
She reaches into her bag and pulls out a little pen pouch. Slowly, she unzips it, pulls out a syringe, and pops off the cap. “Or I’ll shove this needle into your veins and plunge you full of bleach. Personally, I’d take Visine over the bleach, but it’s your call.”
What the hell am I going to do if she charges me with that syringe?
“Rara,” Layla calls from a few feet away, just waking up from her nap.
My eyes sting as I stare at my sweet girl. “I love you, ladybug. So much.”
Susan tsks at me. “You could’ve spared her this, but now she has to watch you die.”
Oh my God, she’s really going to do this.
My chest tightens, each breath marking the agonizing seconds as I wait for her to make her move. All I can do is hope she keeps her focus on me.
She steps forward. I lunge for her knitting needles, which poke out of a ball of yarn on the couch.
“You brat! Come here!” she screams as she chases me.
Layla’s cries fill the room.
I get my hand on one knitting needle, but I can’t stop my momentum and keep falling to the floor. With all my might, I twist at the last second and lift the needle.
Susan lands on top of me, knocking the wind out of me. I gasp for breath.
Oh my God. Did she shoot me up with bleach?
“What did you do?” Susan howls.
I open my eyes, not realizing I’d closed them. She and I both look down between us where a knitting needle sticks out of her chest. Holy shit. I shove her off me and scoot away as the door opens.
“Jace!” I scramble backwards, toward Layla, who’s wailing.
“What happened?” He’s suddenly at my side. “Why are you bleeding?”
“I’m not.” I point to his manager’s wife, who’s lying on her side, moaning. “She is.”