Chapter 34
Ryleigh
The band has Sunday and Monday off, so Angus leaves early Sunday morning, heading back to Minneapolis to see his uncle. Well, his father. Maybe both of them. I don’t know exactly what his plans are because he doesn’t know either. He’s planning to show up at his uncle’s house unannounced and go from there.
The timing sucks because the Rock Harder issue with my article in it comes out on Monday, so we won’t be together, and I’m anxious to get a few hard copies as soon as possible. We’re traveling from Portland, Oregon, to Seattle today so I should be able to find a bookstore in Seattle tomorrow that has a few copies.
It’s weird that Rich hasn’t said much lately. I asked him if he was upset about the article, and he never responded. Then a day later he sent me an album to review, which is fine, I’m just a little confused.
I’m also worried.
He’s usually up my ass about everything so for him to go quiet means either he’s up to something or he’s done with me. I don’t know which of those things scares me more but I’ve been so happy with Angus it’s hard to think about Rich.
We had a conversation about me renting out my condo and going to live with him, in his house in Minneapolis so I think that’s what I’m going to do. The tour doesn’t end until Halloween, and it’s late August, so there’s still time.
Sasha is working on finding dates to fill in between when the tour ends on Halloween and the two nights at Madison Square Garden, but the tentative plan right now is for Lexi to leave the tour as scheduled—she’ll be seven months along at that point—and for Kirsten to take over for two weeks, ending with the New York dates since she goes to school in New York anyway. Lexi might fly to New York for those two nights if she’s up to it, but we won’t know until we get to that point.
Nobody’s Fool only wants to continue if Kirsten can pick up the slack, and Sasha thinks she can do two weeks of performances that are Friday, Saturday, and Sunday only, so Kirsten can get back to class on Mondays. It’s a lot of travel for her, but she’s willing to do it, and Sasha promises she’ll only book in the northeast. It leaves everyone in a bit of a holding pattern for now, but Lexi is trying so hard to get to Halloween without letting anyone down.
I can work from anywhere, so it doesn’t matter to me whether we’re on the road or not.
I’ve just turned on a movie when my phone buzzes and I see a text from Taryn.
TARYN: Just want to give you a head’s up—I think Callum talked to your boss. I overheard him on the phone asking about the article and saying he’s going to buy a copy first thing in the morning. Then he said something like, “this will teach those dicks in Crimson Edge not to mess with me.” I think they went behind your back, Ry.
My stomach knots with worry.
That would be a nightmare.
And suddenly it makes sense.
No wonder he’s been quiet, avoiding my emails and placating me with stupid review jobs.
Shit.
RYLEIGH: Are you sure?
TARYN: No, but I was in L.A. for a couple of weeks while all of that was going on so I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t heard him this morning.
RYLEIGH: Can you find out anything more?
TARYN: I’ll try. A blow job might loosen his tongue. I’ll let you know.
RYLEIGH: Thanks.
I put down my phone worriedly.
I haven’t heard from Angus but I don’t want to bother him. He let me know that he landed and was on his way to his uncle’s house, but I haven’t heard from him since.
I don’t know if I want to say something to Angus when I do hear from him, warn him about what may be coming, or just wait and see what happens. He’s torn up enough about this trip to confront Alex, and I don’t want to add to his burden.
It’s going to be a long night.
* * *
I’m up early, taking an Uber to the nearest bookstore as soon as it opens and picking up two copies of Rock Harder . My name is on the front cover as the author of the headlining story about Crimson Edge, and I’m already worried when I read what he titled it: On the Edge of Deceit (The Story of Crimson Edge).
What the fuck?
My heart pounds painfully as I open to the article and the first paragraph brings tears to my eyes—both because it’s terrible and because I didn’t write it.
Angus Jeffries isn’t Angus Jeffries. In fact, Angus Jeffries isn’t even August Michael Hollingsworth, III. Well, that’s the name he was given at birth, but that name is for the son of August Michael Hollingsworth, Jr. And Angus—or August, if you prefer—isn’t his son.
No no no.
How is this possible?
The article is mostly mine, but Rich interspersed things I had nothing to do with. Horrible, personal things that make me cringe. Including “this reporter’s nights in his bed, feeling wild and wanton and completely uninhibited. Even if I didn’t know exactly who the man in bed with me really was.”
Sweet Jesus.
This isn’t journalism—it’s toxic gossip that borders on click bait.
And my name is attached to it.
I pay for my two copies and call for a car, tears filling my eyes as I finish reading the article. There are things I absolutely didn’t know, things that have nothing to do with anything, like the fact that Angus slept with Callum’s ex—while they were still dating. He told me about that but it never would have crossed my mind to add it to the story. This is a smear campaign set up by Rich, Callum, Angus’s mother, or some combination of all of them.
The piece that I wrote is in there but it’s disguised and buried with things I either didn’t know or never told anyone. Not Rich, not Kirsten, not a single solitary soul.
Which begs the question of how Rich found out.
How could Callum know since I absolutely didn’t tell Taryn?
Are they somehow able to see what’s on my laptop?
I can’t imagine how—we’re not spies, for heaven’s sake—but how did he find out about Alex and Violetta? They’re both mentioned by name, so I have to warn Angus.
I send him a quick text, telling him I have to talk to him, but he doesn’t respond right away. In fact, the text doesn’t show that it’s been read. Either he’s not up or he’s already seen it and is furious.
The moment I step into the lobby I run into Lexi and her husband, Zaan, both wearing workout clothes.
“Good morning,” she says with a friendly smile. “Where have you been so bright and early?”
I look up, hold out the magazines, and then burst into tears.
“Oh, hey, what happened?” Lexi puts an arm around me while Zaan takes the magazines from my hand.
“It’s okay, don’t cry. Talk to me.”
Lexi’s being so nice it makes me cry harder.
I dig a tissue out of my purse, unable to articulate how I’m feeling or how to explain what’s happened.
“I didn’t do this,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face. “I swear to you, I would never…”
“Oh, shit.” Zaan is a professional hockey player who towers over me, and I have to look up to see his face.
“Let me see!” Lexi takes a copy from him and starts to read. “Oh my God. Ryleigh, what did you do?” She gazes at me in astonishment.
“I didn’t! My editor…” I cover my face with my hands.
“This is bad, Ryleigh.” Zaan lowers the magazine.
“Callum did this,” I whisper. “Callum and my editor. I don’t know how I’m going to prove it, but this wasn’t me.”
“Does Angus know?” Lexi asks quietly.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I texted him but he hasn’t responded or called me back. He’s in Minneapolis to confront his uncle about being his father. And now this—oh my God, what am I going to do?”
“You better figure something out,” Lexi says softly, “because no one is going to be happy about this.”
“He makes me sound like a cross between a brainless social media influencer and a prostitute—even if I was going to talk about what I know, I wouldn’t write it this way!”
“The end is awful,” Lexi says, shaking her head.
“And now that the truth has come to light—about both Angus and Crimson Edge—it seems that there’s more to modern rock and roll debauchery than sex and drugs. In some ways, this is much, much worse. A slimy, back-room affair under cover of the Holland-Burke dynasty intertwined with a band setting out to destroy their rivals, in whatever way necessary…”
This is horrible and not even close to the article I sent in.
And the worst part is that there’s no way for me to prove my innocence.