Chapter 4
Chapter four
MICAH PRESCOTT
I really don’t want to fucking do this. But I force myself to sit in the living room of the beach house in front of my laptop, sitting on the coffee table.
It’s the last night I’m staying here since Jude is gone.
For the foreseeable future, I’m staying with Emma.
I rake a hand through my hair and stare at the blank screen.
I feel fucking useless. I hate that I lied to them. I hate that I didn’t do more. I hate that I stood by and watched Jude fall.
But I was broken too.
I am broken.
The laptop erupts with that shrill, god-awful ringtone, and I slap “accept” just to make it stop.
Kami and Finnick fill the screen instantly.
Kami’s blood red hair is swept into a messy ponytail, her blue eyes clear of her usual eyeliner.
Finnick’s messy blonde hair has grown out a little bit, and his brown eyes swiftly narrow at me.
“Hey,” Finnick says flatly. “So what the fuck happened?”
“Hello to you too, Fin,” I mutter.
“We’ve been trying to contact Nolan. Adriana. Jude. No one is answering. No one is telling us anything. This is fucking unprofessional. So you better tell us what the fuck is going on.”
I flinch. Unprofessional. That's goddamn laughable right now. Still, he’s not wrong. Dissonance was our livelihood. Even if we have enough money to disappear for years, it was still ours. Practically, a limb. And now it’s just…severed. “Yeah. I know.”
“How’s Jude?” Kami cuts in, chewing a black-painted fingernail. “Have you heard from him?”
“I don’t know how Jude is, Kam,” I say, nausea surging inside me at that. “He’s been taken to Russia by Nolan, Adriana, and some fucking scary Russian bastard named Alexei.”
Her jaw drops. “What? Took? As in...kidnapped? Micah...what?”
“Explain,” Finnick interjects.
I inhale slowly. This is it. I’m about to vomit up secrets I’ve been swallowing for years. Fucking fuck. “Nolan isn’t just a manager,” I say. “He’s involved in drug trafficking. Money laundering. That's why he handles all of our tours and bookings himself. He’s a criminal.”
Silence.
Their faces shift into confusion.
“What?” Kami whispers.
“Keep going,” Finnick says.
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “You already know how Nolan and Adriana recruited Jude back when he was twenty. Flew him out to L.A. They told him he’d be meeting some other industry execs interested in his music.
” I swallow. “He did. But they got him drunk and high as fuck.
" I pause, feeling my heart beat harder in my chest. "And when he woke up the next morning, he was covered in blood.”
Kami’s hand flies to her mouth.
“Nolan told him he killed a man who tried to hurt him. He said that they could make it all disappear, and that he was too talented to waste on prison.”
Their jaws drop.
“He...killed someone?” Kami’s voice fractures.
I almost laugh. Multiple fucking someones, unfortunately. “That’s what they told him.”
Finnick presses his knuckles against his teeth.
“The blackmail started that night. And the drugs. They made sure he stayed dependent.” My voice feels raw.
“They recruited me not long after that. I was a junkie in Chicago. An easy target, honestly. They said I had a rare and amazing talent and that they were trying to build something incredible. And for a while, I believed it. I didn’t see what they really were until after we met you two at that bar.
By then…” I shake my head. “Jude was already trapped. Soon after, I was, too.”
“So Nolan forced him to do things?” Finnick asks quietly. “Like what?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Violence. Intimidation. Moving product through our tours. Laundering money through solo performances because it was easy. And yes…killing.”
Silence swallows us.
Kami shakes her head slowly. “I knew he was struggling. I didn’t know it was…I—didn't know it was—”
“Neither did we,” I say. “Not at first.”
“How do we help?” she asks, eyes glassy. “What can we do?”
I glance at Finnick. He’s frozen, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of his mouth like he’s praying.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“Are you kidding me?” Kami snaps, anger bleeding through the shock. “Nolan used us as a front? For drugs? For crimes? And we just—”
“And what about you, Micah?” Finnick cuts in.
“Fin—” Kami starts.
He waves her off. “You lived through it with him. You saw what they were. Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you try to run?”
The question hits exactly where it should. I look down at my hands. “Because retaliation isn’t simple when they control your supply,” I say quietly. “When withdrawal is weaponized.”
His mouth closes.
Kami frowns. “Did they ever do that to you?”
I nod once. “Yeah. Locked us in a room once when we disobeyed. No drugs. No water. Just each other and the worst kind of sickness imaginable.” My throat tightens. “We shared a bed and prayed to die.”
Her eyes fill with tears.
“Not long after that…we tried.”
Both of them go still.
“Adriana found us before it worked. Called the ambulance. But…” My eyes burn. "But we tried."
Finnick exhales like he’s been punched. “Jesus, Micah.”
“Please,” Kami says softly. “If there’s anything we can do. We have connections. We’re not powerless.”
“I’ll let you know,” I say. “I promise. But hey, don’t talk about this with anyone. Jude is in real danger. Nolan and Adriana threatened to kill him if we went public about any of this.”
Kami’s bottom lip trembles. “Do you believe them?”
I hesitate. “I honestly don’t think Nolan would kill Jude. Or Adriana. But I do believe that Alexei would.”
“Alexei’s last name...do you have it?” Kami asks.
“Don’t get your father involved, Kam,” Finnick warns.
She ignores him. “Give me the name if you can?”
I sigh. Kami’s father, Levi Fitzgerald, is one of New York’s finest criminal lawyers. He’s represented some of the biggest and most controversial names in recent history. He has a knack for protecting those who stand up against an unjust system. He works with activists a lot.
“Alexei Morozov,” I whisper, as if the fucker can hear me.
She nods. “Please stay in contact, okay?”
“I will. I’m sorry, guys. Truly.”
We end the call, and the screen goes dark. The house is too quiet. It wasn’t long ago that we were all here, drinking, laughing, and living a peaceful life. Well, mostly peaceful. I close the laptop and sink back into the couch cushions. My phone lights up, portraying a few texts from Heather.
Heather:
I miss you, Meekah.
Please let me know how your video chat thing goes. I’m keeping Emma company. She seems like she’s doing a little better today.
Scratch that. She’s crying again. I hate this so much.
Yeah, I hate it, too. But I smile when I read her nickname for me. She only gave it to me when I told her my favorite movie character was Timon from The Lion King…who’s a meerkat. My thumbs hover over the screen before I type a response.
I miss you, too. I’ll be over soon. I just need to clean and lock the place up. Just pour her some Jeppson’s Malort. That’s what I always drank to feel better.
She responds within seconds.
Heather:
Ew, Micah. I love that you’re a Chicago boy, but that stuff is disgusting. You need to leave it behind.
I snort. I kind of forced her to try “The Champagne of Pain” since it’s basically a rite of passage for people in Chicago. Safe to say, she made the most adorable face of discomfort I’ve ever seen.
Lol I’ll see you guys tonight.
The Audi hums beneath me as I pull onto the highway, the ocean fading in the rearview mirror. My hands tighten around the steering wheel before I even realize I’m doing it. About two weeks ago, I found Jude overdosing in this goddamn seat.
My grip tightens harder, knuckles whitening.
I can still see it. The way his chest barely moved.
The way I kept saying his name like that alone might drag him back.
How I prayed to a fucking god I refuse to believe in to just make him wake up.
It's a unique kind of experience when you realize just how desperate you are to bring someone back.
“Don’t you fucking do this,” I whisper now, to no one. But my mind drifts before I can stop it.
~ A memory ~
We’re in the studio on a random Tuesday. Jude chucks a handful of french fries across the room, and they smack Kami in the shoulder.
She gasps, then snorts so hard she nearly inhales her chocolate milkshake. “You asshole!”
Finnick is laughing behind his guitar, shaking his head because we’re all idiots.
It’s been a twelve-hour day. Nolan pacing, trying to get us to focus. Adriana pretending to be patient. “Break’s almost over,” Nolan had said ten minutes ago. We all rolled our eyes the second he left.
Jude shoves the rest of his burger into his mouth like he’s an animal, grease on his fingers, dark hair falling into his eyes. I’m already done with my food. Two minutes, maybe less.
Kami points at me. “Micah, do you even taste your food? Or do you just inhale it?”
I shrug, twirling a drumstick between my fingers. “Fuel. I’m ready to get back at it.”
“You’re a menace,” she says. “I have no idea how you have so much fucking energy, man.”
“I’m efficient, love,” I correct.
“And on coke,” Jude jokes, bumping his shoulder against mine as he passes, laughing under his breath. “But it’s true, he’s an eager beaver. He’d deep throat that drumstick like a champ if it meant we could record faster.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I shoot back, pressing against the inside of my cheek with my tongue to simulate a blowjob.
We’re tired, but it’s the good kind. Kami and Finnick are new, so we’re still working out this whole band thing.
Dissonance is what we decided call it. We named it on our first night playing together in this studio at, like, three in the morning.
We were all so tired, drunk, high, and laughing.
When we tried playing something together, it sounded like pure shit.