Take What You Want (Whisper Me Nothings #3)

1. Nikolai

1

NIKOLAI

W hen you’ve stared death in the face and survived, there’s a sense of invincibility that flows alongside the blood in your veins. People died in front of my eyes, and yet I’m alive. I still don’t know why. All I know is that life isn’t fair, and there’s no time to leave things unsaid.

I’ve made that mistake before, and I never want to do it again.

I’d always been an adrenaline junkie growing up, but it’s gotten worse since a student at my younger brother’s high school graduation ceremony opened fire. Nothing gets my blood pumping or heart racing more than toying with that fine line between life and death.

Some might call me reckless, aimless, searching for a purpose and fucking up along the way. I cycle through relationships like I do thrill-seeking hobbies, but I’m trying to change.

I want to change.

The band I’ve been a part of for all of my adult life has been broken up for almost a year now. My identity was so intertwined with them I’m not sure how to be a public figure without them.

But not singing has felt like losing a limb. It’s a part of me, so intertwined with my soul that I don’t know who I am without it. And although I’m terrified to venture back into it on my own, I also know I need it. I need to get my feet back under me after years of feeling like I’m stumbling.

So staring at the papers that my manager, Arun, has laid out in front of me on the cold, wooden table, I don’t feel the usual itch under my skin at the thought of committing to something. Instead, it feels like freedom. A new purpose. A new chapter.

“I’ll still have my people look over this, but we can go over the basics today,” Arun says, leaning back in his chair, suit jacket stretched tightly over his broad shoulders. His usual gold watch glints in the sunlight that pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the hills of Los Angeles. This office is a huge upgrade compared to his old one that he started out with when he signed my band almost ten years ago.

But the modern and expensive upgrades of his business aren’t the only thing that’s different today. Instead of having Reid, Walker, and Hayden, my best friends, my brothers, by my side looking over this contract, it’s just me.

The room feels empty despite the large art pieces decorating the walls and warm glow of the afternoon sun filling the space.

I’m exposed, even though it’s a private room. I don’t have my security blankets, my partners. It’s all on me. Whether I fail or succeed.

My knee shakes under the table, rattling the line of pens atop.

“Nikolai?”

“Sorry, yeah,” I say, shaking myself out of my thoughts. “Sounds good.”

Arun eyes me with that parental care he’s adopted over the years. My band, Whisper Me Nothings, signed with him when we were eighteen and freshly out of high school. When our careers took off, he was the constant by our side. Making sure we didn’t get screwed over, no one was taking advantage of us, ensuring we always had our passports and were where we needed to be and on time.

When I decided I wanted to make a run of a solo career, he was my first phone call. There’s no other manager I would trust.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asks. “We can wait. The fans will wait for you. They did it once already.”

They did. They waited two years while Whisper Me Nothings went on a hiatus after the shooting Hayden and I witnessed. His younger brother was in the same graduating class as mine and he was there that day too. Thankfully, his family made it out safely like mine, but we all bear the mental scars of that day. And between the four of us, we decided that the band would take a break while Hayden and I tried to come to terms with that incident.

At some point, you have to keep going. Some people weren’t given the choice to keep going, and I’m not going to take it for granted.

Now that’s where some would say that I’ve gone slightly off the rails in the years following, especially when you compare me and Hayden. Where he clings too tightly to control because he lost the sense of it that day, I’ve thrown everything to the wind. I know I can’t control anything. Time is fleeting and dancing that line between life and death is the only thing that gets my heart pumping as fast as performing onstage in front of thousands of people does.

I’d say I’m making the most out of my life now.

And that’s why I’m not going to wait around to begin to forge a new career on my own. Time is expiring and the limits are unknown.

“I’m ready,” I say. “I want this.”

Arun assesses me for a moment, before nodding and shuffling the papers. “All right then. I can call in Gerry to go over this with us?—”

I push back from the table and stride toward the window, needing to move.

“You’ve never been able to sit still.” Arun shakes his bald head with a soft smile. “Glad to see that hasn’t changed over the years.”

I give him a cheeky grin in return and pace the length of the room. “I can’t help it.”

“Like I was saying, I can have our legal team come in?—”

“I actually have someone in mind to look it over for me,” I interrupt. “If that’s alright. Your team is more than welcome as well, but I have someone I’d like to take a glance at it.”

He arches a dark brow and steeples his hands. “Oh?”

I roll the sleeves of my shirt up, the room growing warm. “It’s not like I don’t trust your team, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he agrees, and I smirk.

“It’s just that I have someone that I’d like to reach out to with the task.”

“Anyone I know?”

I debate telling him, but if there are any changes she suggests, he’ll find out eventually.

“Jane Walker,” I say, darting my eyes back to the window, looking out over the rolling hills.

Arun is silent for a moment, before he repeats her name, and just hearing it from someone else’s mouth spikes a rush of adrenaline through me. “As in Walker’s sister?”

Yes, Walker’s sister. My best friend and former bandmate’s twin. Who also happens to be one of my best friends as well.

Or was , I suppose.

She’s still a friend, but we lost the best friend status when I shattered her heart into a million little pieces years ago.

Something that I’ve regretted every single day of my life since.

And I’m finally ready to try to make amends. No, amends is the wrong word. I don’t want her to simply forgive me and be able to move past it. We’re already at that point. We’ve re-established a newfound friendship over the years for the sake of saving face in front of her brother and our other friends who have no clue that Jane and I have ever been anything more than friends.

I want her back.

I want her to be mine once again, and this time, I’m not going to fuck it up like I’ve fucked up so many other things in my life.

“You know, she’s specializing in entertainment law now and I’d like for her to look over the contract for me,” I tell him, not liking the way he’s looking at me.

“That’s all?”

“What?”

“That’s all you want from the situation?”

I lean my shoulder against the wall, casually crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

He looks at me as if to say, I’m not an idiot . “You know, parts of this contract specifically cover your image in the media and cleaning that shit up. I can’t have you pulling your same old relationship bullshit out every few months. It’s not cute.”

“It’s not like that. I just want a friend who has my best interests to take a look at it for me. You know she used to look them over for us back when the band was together. And that was even before she graduated and started practicing.”

Arun raises his hands in surrender but lets out a heavy sigh that echoes off the pristine white walls. “Fine, whatever. I’ll email you a copy for you to pass along to her.” He stands, buttoning his jacket and smoothing the fabric. He cracks his neck and shakes his head as he pushes his chair into the table. “I guess I should just be thankful that I don’t have all four of you here and the incoming shitstorm that will ensue?—”

“Nothing’s going on?—”

“I don’t wanna know. Not unless it’s going to become public knowledge and a PR headache for me. Got it?”

I fight the smile at his exasperation with me and the shit I and the guys have put him through over the years. “Got it.”

Arun mutters something under his breath as he strides out of the room, leaving me to look over the city in a moment of silence.

I don’t like it. I need something to fill it. Music, chatter, hell, even construction noise, anything.

Not able to take it, I exit the office building and step out in the warm, May afternoon. The sidewalk is busy as people rush out on their lunch hour, everyone having places to be and things to do. I slip a pair of sunglasses on and push my hair off my forehead, wanting to call Jane here and now because I finally have an excuse to hear her voice and seek her out.

But all it takes is for one of these people to dig their heads out of their phones and take notice of me to turn into a swarm of photos and an alert that Nikolai Brooks is out in the open.

So instead, I duck my head and make my way over to my bike parked out front. Illegally, I might add, but I don’t see a ticket anywhere on it so a win for me today. I quickly pull my helmet over my head because while some may say I’m reckless, I’m not stupid. The visor flips down with a quick flick of my wrist, and I straddle the seat, relishing in the way the leather molds to my thighs.

Revving the engine a few times for good measure, I peel off the curb and weave my way through the streets of downtown LA with a smile, thinking about the phone call I get to make when I return home.

Because even though I broke Jane Walker’s heart, I know she’ll always have my back. Even when I don’t deserve it. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but none causes the self-loathing like hurting her did.