16. Naz
SIXTEEN
NAZ
By the time Emmy returns to give us the signal that it’s safe to leave, I have a pounding headache radiating from the back of my neck to my temples. It feels like my eyeballs might pop out of their sockets, which at this point might actually be a relief if it releases some of the pressure.
I can’t decide what’s worse, overthinking what’s happening with Scott, or stressing over my grandparents being in the same space as the guys without me there as a buffer.
My grandparents were not happy about the change of plans when I called this morning. That I wasn’t there today after insisting so hard that they move in was bad enough. They were even less impressed to hear they’d be sharing space with those friends of mine they find so unsavory.
Since I couldn’t tell them everything that has been happening, I just had to take the judgement and let them think my grandfather’s recovery wasn’t my priority. I put the band first, just like always.
After trying several times to reach them to check in, I finally gave up and called Simon.
He assured me everyone was settling in, but when I asked to speak to either of my grandparents, they weren’t available.
Grandfather was too tired to speak, and my grandmother was busy ordering Zane around, having him move the furniture around to her liking.
Zane, at least, is the milder of all our expected houseguests.
He’s not particularly talkative, doesn’t have any visible tattoos, and is generally very polite.
He arrived this morning shortly after we departed.
Eric, Will, and Ari are supposed to be there sometime late tonight, and then Jesse, Luc, and Tad are due to arrive in the early hours of the morning.
I’m sure my grandparents will just love that. Jesse is their favorite.
Trying to shake off my worries about what’s happening at home, I get up from the conference table and follow as the guys file out, remembering to keep their heads down.
I’m last to exit the conference room, but instead of following them straight to the elevator, I hold back.
My gaze strays to the small reception area where Emmy’s desk and a seating area set up outside Blake’s office.
Is Scott still in there?
Cory told me they would be hard pressed to take Scott off my personal security detail because we aren’t sure who else we could trust, but he trusted Charles and Lawrence enough to be part of this farce. Will one of them end up replacing Scott?
I try to imagine having anyone else by my side, shadowing me everywhere, watching my every move.
It’s hard to fathom feeling comfortable with anyone other than Scott.
Even when he first started and I was being pissy about it, I wasn’t as uncomfortable with him as I put on.
At first I was angry because I’d been put in close proximity with someone who’d seen me more vulnerable than I’d ever let myself be.
Knowing he’d seen me like that made me feel exposed and weak.
But Scott saw me. Really saw me. Saw through the walls I keep up, the roles I play in all aspects of my life.
He gave me a new role, one that allowed me to peel off all the layers I hide behind.
He stripped me down to my basest layers, to the animal need I always knew lived in my bones.
He turned off all the noise and let me be… nothing.
Even between sessions, I felt more able to be myself with Scott than I have in a very long time.
I don’t think I could ever get used to having a different shadow, and there’s no chance in hell I’ll ever find another person who I could trust to give me what Scott does.
More than that… I’d miss him.
Hell, I already miss him, and he’s been here all day. I could feel his eyes on me, watching me, begging me to trust him.
Except that I do trust him.
In my shock, upset, and confusion over everything that’s happened and then having the texts piled on top of it all, I never once doubted him.
Realizing my opinion matters here, and that Blake and Cory might listen to me if I tell them I won’t accept another bodyguard, I turn in the opposite direction of the group heading to the elevators.
“Naz?” Emmy calls out.
“I’ll be right behind you,” I say, then think better of it in case I need more time. “Just head to the condo, I’ll meet you there.”
Emmy beams at me like I’ve done something to make him proud. It’s not like anyone else can argue. None of them can look me in the eye without tipping off whoever is watching the cameras that they aren’t who they’re supposed to be.
I don’t make it halfway down the hall before Cory comes out of Blake’s office.
“What happened?” I ask him.
Cory pauses, looking down the hall to see everyone gone already. He’s supposed to be leaving with the group, but so am I.
“I’ll explain when we get back to the condo,” he says, trying to usher me out.
“No,” I say, pulling my arm back. “I need to know what happened in there. Why isn’t Scott leaving with you?”
“Scott already left.”
I heard the words perfectly well, but it takes me too long to process them.
“What do you mean he left?”
“He didn’t like what he heard, and he walked out. I thought he’d cool off and come back, but he didn’t. I’m sorry.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Scott wouldn’t just leave me like this.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Naz. I really am sorry. But we need to go, I’ve got to get everyone to the condo.”
“I want to talk to Blake.”
“There isn’t time right now, you can talk to him later.”
“You go. I’ll be fine.”
“That’s not happening and you know it.”
“Well, I’m not leaving, and if you try to make me I’ll make a scene and you know it. Tell Lawrence to wait for me if it makes you feel better.”
Cory lets out a frustrated sigh. “You’re worse than Jesse sometimes, you know that?”
I shrug, because that’s not my problem. I’m tired, confused, and pissed the hell off. It doesn’t even matter if Blake won’t listen to me, my heels have dug themselves in and my mind is made up.
Scott didn’t leave me. He didn’t.
“Fine. Lawrence will wait in the lobby and call a car service. You have fi–”
“Ten minutes,” I interrupt before he can finish.
Another sigh. “Ten minutes,” he agrees through his teeth. “Please don’t make my job any harder than it is right now, Naz. Your safety is my responsibility, and right now, that’s a pretty big job.”
“Okay,” I say softly, trying to placate him a little. I do feel bad for being difficult, but I have a manager to cuss out.
We both turn on our heels and march our separate ways.
I don’t bother knocking, throwing the door open and charging right into Blake’s office. He looks annoyingly put together, not the least bit chuffed that I just barged in the way I did.
“Mr. Lester.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What can I help you with, Naz?” He sounds bored, exasperated, over all our bullshit.
“What happened with Scott?”
“I’m sure Cory told you that Mr. Riley left of his own volition and has yet to return.”
“What happened?” I grit out again, over enunciating each word.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you more than what I have. The discussion we had beforehand is private and would be an HR nightmare.”
“I couldn’t give a shit less about HR. I want to know what you did to piss Scott off because he wouldn’t just leave like that.”
“Because you know him so well?”
I don’t dignify that with an answer, but it does the intended damage.
A pang of guilt slices through my stomach.
More than once I’ve thought to myself that I don’t know much about Scott’s personal life.
I know he’s from somewhere in the Midwest, and I overheard him say something to Cory about having a sister, which I admit I didn’t know.
I really don’t know anything about Scott’s past, his family, or anything outside of the person he is when he’s with me.
I know he’s larger than life, not just in size, but personality.
I know he laughs with his whole body, and that he can find humor in anything.
I know that, on the outside at least, it seems like he doesn’t care about much or take things too seriously, but that he actually takes things to heart more than most. I know he’s the most observant person I’ve ever met.
And I know that he’s a different person depending on who he’s talking to. He’s like a chameleon that way.
Which is also why it doesn’t make sense for him to just walk out. Scott has an uncanny way of knowing what someone wants to hear. He would know exactly what to say to keep his position, even just temporarily.
“I know he wouldn’t leave like this. Without saying anything.”
“Without you, you mean?”
The palm of my hand stings, my nails digging into the flesh. I keep them long because I like seeing the tracks I make when I scratch my nails down his back.
How long will the last marks I made stay on his skin? Will he see them and regret leaving me here?
“Yes, without me. Or without saying goodbye at least.” Pulling my phone from my pocket, I check again for any messages. “Not even a text,” I say, holding it up.
“Naz,” Blake says, putting his arms on his desk and leaning forward, dark eyes boring into me like he’s trying to burn a message into my brain. “Go back to the condo. Get some rest. You need to trust that I’m doing the best thing for all of us right now.”
“I don’t really care what’s best for all of us!
” I shout. “I’ve given this band everything.
Hell, I just handed over the last thing I had holding all my strings together.
My life has been threatened, I have no privacy, and my grandparents may never speak to me again.
He was the only thing I had for me. He kept me safe.
And he kept me sane, Blake. I don’t know if I can do all of this without him. ”
Blake’s eyes soften, but his body language doesn’t change. “Naz, I need you to hear me right now. I understand that you’re upset. I need you to trust me.”
Translation: This is a lost cause.
“You act like you’re above it all, but when it comes down to it, you’re no better than the last asshole who tried to control us.”
It’s a low blow, I know. But I’m pissed off, confused, and actually scared for the first time since I thought we might lose Jesse. It’s like I can feel the truth trickling down from the ceiling—something is about to change in a big way. And not a good change.
Blake at least pretended to be on our side, and maybe he really was. But now that I’m really looking at him, at the dark circles under his eyes I didn’t notice before, there’s an expression of defeat hiding behind his stony exterior.
Maybe he fired Scott because it was out of his hands. Maybe he stared lasers into him the way he’s doing to me now and let him know there was no point in arguing or standing up for himself.
And maybe Scott didn’t tell me because I shut him out.
Blake stands and starts to come around his desk. “Naz–”
“Don’t. I understand.”
“I’m not sure you do, son.”
“I’m not your fucking son. And I understand that you’re tucking tail right now.”
“I need to do what I need to do to keep you safe.”
“If you say so.”
At that, I turn and leave, nearly knocking into Emmy on my way. “Naz? What’s–” He looks behind me. “Oh.”
I move past Emmy, hearing him tell Blake to let me go.
Once I’m out of Blake’s office, I’m too…
everything. Angry. Upset. Confused. Worried.
Pissed beyond reason. It’s all so overwhelming.
I need to sit down. I take a seat at the end of the conference table everyone was sitting at earlier.
Emmy hasn’t cleared the refreshments from the room yet, so I grab a bottle of water and drink half of it in one go.
Leaning back in the seat, I let my head fall back, replaying my conversation with Blake over and over in my mind.
I said too much. Acted like a petulant child and showed my entire hand. They all knew I was sleeping with Scott, and I didn’t give a shit that they knew. But I did give a shit when anyone accused it of being more. And here I just said it out loud. That I need him.