Chapter 17 #2
Bear looks like he’s ready to murder someone when he takes in her appearance, too. He’s always been protective over his sister. Their adoptive brother, Scotty, has been protective, too, but he’s always had that familial disconnect since he came into their family in his teens.
Ayla’s eyes meet mine, but she subtly shakes her head and offers a tight-lipped smile before turning away from Bear and faces Fletcher.
“It’s good to meet you again, Mr. McGowan.”
“Fletcher, please,” he insists with a nod, his eyes crinkling in the corner with amusement.
She blushes. Ayla “men are nothing more than an inconvenience” Christiansen blushes.
She shifts in her seat and pulls a giant binder from her bag that she takes with her everywhere. She’s our PR manager, but she’s also always been like an assistant to the manager, always keeping everyone’s shit organized and in check.
She opens her planner and pulls a pen out, ready to get straight to business.
“I wanted to talk to each of you about a few things. First and foremost, the abrupt transition back to As We Stand from your takeover has been fairly smooth. Some questions and speculation arose when you had to cancel the St. Louis concert minutes before your opening act, but food poisoning can really knock you down.”
She eyes each of us, indicating that’s the story she spun. Sometimes even I am shocked that the public believes some of these asinine statements. But hey, whatever works.
“Now, the U. S. tour for Dark Sins isn’t supposed to kick off until this fall, and we’re halfway through July.
That only gives you about ten weeks, and between studio sessions and concert prep, that’s not a lot of time.
Take in the fact that Riley is still in the hospital and will need who knows what kind of therapy, that will cut several weeks out of the deadline. ”
“So what do you propose we do if we can’t even temporarily replace Mr. Graves?” Fletcher asks, letting Ayla take the lead. Smart man. She’s always been a fucking boss, and it tells me a lot about McGowan’s character that he’s allowing her to take the reins.
We’d originally brought up the idea that we just hire her to be our manager, but she insisted that she’s happy doing exactly what she’s doing now.
Ayla looks up from her notes and glances around the table before pinning Fletcher beneath her dark eyes. He doesn’t waver and neither does she.
“I think we need to reschedule the tour. Push it back maybe six months from now, or possibly start the tour by late spring or early summer—when the demographic has more availability to see them in concert.”
She’s right, and I couldn’t agree more. That gives me plenty of time to find a good balance and routine between caring for Riley and Collins, recording, and just taking a moment to breathe.
It’s been a fucking nightmare and whirlwind of chaos and insanity lately, so I’m ready to just spend time healing and bonding all over again with the two people who mean more to me than life itself.
Fletcher nods his agreement. Blair and Bear, too, but Cort sits quietly at the end of the table, contemplating.
The truth is, while I love working under Cort Records, I’d leave the label in a fucking heartbeat if he weren’t agreeable to this.
I understand he’s got deadlines, but that doesn’t mean we won’t walk away if he can’t grant us this much needed break in the wake of total calamity.
Eventually, he nods, making a note in his own folder.
“Let’s plan on an early tour, then,” he says, closing his notebook and pushing to stand.
I stand with him and follow him to the door.
He pauses when he’s at the threshold and turns back to me.
“I truly am sorry about what happened to Riley and to your girlfriend. I also apologize if I came across as insincere. Take the time you need and send me a list of any additional equipment you may need. I’ll have it shipped to your house to use in your studio. ”
“Will do, thanks, Cort.” I’m appreciative of his apology and his olive branch in offering to help us out, but I’m just ready to get the fuck out of here and back to Collins and Riley.
He leaves, and when I face the others again, I note that Ayla is now murmuring with Fletcher over dates and venues for the tour, Bear is engrossed with whatever is on the other side of his phone, and Blair is grinning like an idiot at his.
“Ayla,” I call, and her head snaps up. “What do you need from me?”
She just smiles and shakes her head. “Just keep your schedule open for the new tour lineup. I’m going to stay and get Mr. Mc—Fletcher caught up on what’s what.
We’ll worry about the press once Riley feels comfortable enough to step out again.
” She nods toward the door. “Go. I can hear your internal screaming and it’s annoying me. ”
Blair barks a laugh and shoots to stand. “I knew I loved you, Ayla.”
“Get the hell out of here, you fucking shit disturbers, and let me work in peace, please.”
A low, rumbling chuckle resounds from within Fletcher’s chest, and it’s got that color creeping up Ayla’s face again.
Bear pushes to stand. “Call me if you need a ride when you’re done, Ay.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles. “Will do.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I happily tune everyone out when I unlock the screen and see that I have two texts. One in the group chat and one separate text from Riley.
SWEET BOY: Still good here, since I know you’ll be asking. I’m sore as hell, but I’m here. So much to be thankful for. Like these M&M’s and morphine. But most importantly, you and Collins.
My heart thumps in my chest as I read and reread his text before even realizing he’d sent another. My smile falls when I read his separate text.
SWEET BOY: When you get back, can you check on Collins first? She’s back in her room and I think she’s napping now. Asher is with her, but she seemed a little off after therapy today.
What? Why the fuck is she in her own room? Collins couldn’t be pried from Riley’s side with a crowbar, so what the fuck happened? I don’t want to cause further worry, so I respond:
ME: Will do. You need anything from me until then?
SWEET BOY: To get the hell out of here and go home.
ME: Soon, baby. Xx
My own heart does this little galloping thump at calling him that. It feels right.
I open the text thread with Collins
ME: Still alright? You still napping, Sleeping Beauty?.
STARDUST: I’m okay, we’ve got an update about Riley’s therapy and I still feel drained from my own. How was the meeting?
My response is immediate.
ME: Just okay still? What’s wrong?
STARDUST: I’m alright. Promise. I’ll talk to you when you get back.
Sure she is.
I fire off a new text to Asher.
ME: Is Collins alright? Ri is worried about her. *I* am worried about her.
It takes a minute, but then he responds.
First, it’s a picture of Collins laying on her side, facing away from Asher.
ASH: She’s been quiet for a while. She’s got some heavy stuff on her mind, but I’ll let her tell you.
So she’s anything but okay.
“You okay?” Blair asks, following a few feet behind me as we make our way out of the hotel. “You’re moving like your ass is on fire.”
“I just need to get back to them.” I approach my car and look at Blair. “You need a ride?”
“If you don’t mind.” He shakes his head, looking at Bear over his shoulder as he climbs into his truck. “He drives like a fucking lunatic.”
I chuckle, despite my skin crawling with the need to cut the small talk so I can get back to my girl and my boy. But being an asshole won’t get me there any faster.
I send off a text to Collins before starting the car:
ME: I’m on my way, Stardust.
I have some anxiety when it comes to leaving them because the last time I had significant distance between us…they were hurt and taken from me. Almost fucking died. So yeah, paranoia has been devouring me from the inside out by the minute.
“They’re both tough as shit, you know that, right?” Blair says after several long minutes of my silent stewing after hitting the highway.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, sighing.
“I know it.” My grip on the steering wheel tightens.
“They shouldn’t fucking have to be, though.
Every goddamned time I think about what they—what he—FUCK!
” I punch the steering wheel, the heat of anger and fury burning through me like a fucking blazing inferno.
“Hey,” Blair says softly when I pull up to a stoplight.
I turn my head to look at him. His mismatched eyes that are usually so full of light and playfulness are now somber.
“I might not be the serious guy of the group like Bear, but I’ve seen the look on your face before, and I’ve witnessed enough shit lately to last me a fucking lifetime.
” He runs a hand through his hair, glancing out the windshield.
“Don’t let the guilt consume you. It’s not your fault.
“You got them out. You. They’re alive and awake, hearts beating and fucking smiling despite all they’ve been through. They’re here because of you. So focus on that right now. Worry about all the other shit later. Okay?”
The light turns green and with a silent nod, I turn my attention back to the road with a wicked smirk on my face, “I like the way you think, Blair Finn.”
He chuckles, “I’m not just here for a good time, my guy.” He says, grinning and playfully slapping his palm against my thigh several times before squeezing and jostling my leg. “I’m here for a long time.”
“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?” I laugh, eyeing him as he releases me.
“Not this time.”
I pull into the parking garage, more than ready to get back to my people. I’m practically tripping over my feet as I get out of the car and rush towards the private elevator. Blair is right on my heels, in a hurry all his own.
Which reminds me— “What’s going on with you and Asher?”
He looks up from his phone and gives me a slow, lazy grin as we ride the elevator up to Collins’ and Riley’s floor. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Credence.”
“You fucker!” I bark a laugh and give him a shove, shouldering my way out of the elevator in pursuit of finding my girl and my guy.