Chapter 10
chapter
ten
“Some wounds never scab over…they just burn deeper.” – Haven
CYRUS
Haven brushes past me like I’m nothing. Like, she hasn’t just torched me in front of everyone or killed our rehearsal by snapping the only thread holding this tour together.
My hand moves before I can think about it.
I grip Haven’s wrist hard enough to stop her.
She freezes and then turns. Her glare cuts straight through me.
Fuck, I’ve missed this look. A whole minute of her here, and all the reasons why I hate her and want her so fucking badly flood back.
The noise behind us fades to static. It’s just me and Haven, like it’s supposed to be.
“You don’t get to walk in here, drop a verbal nuke, and pretend I don’t exist.”
“I can do whatever I want. Now let go.” Her voice is deadly calm, sharpened by our toxicity and darker things. The rage in her eyes ignites every cell of my body.
“Say please.”
She jerks her arm, and I pull her right back in—harder this time, so she collides with me.
For a split second, everything turns upside down.
Her hand lands over my heart to push me away.
I catch that one, too. Trap it against my chest and lose myself in the green of her eyes.
Her skin is soft and tingles under my fingers.
My pulse hammers, heart wild, and for the first time in years, I feel…
alive. Like she is reaching into my grave, the coffin I’ve been locked in and is pulling me out of the dirt that’s been keeping me trapped and unable to breathe.
I step forward. Haven steps back. It’s a dance that we are so used to doing that it is our own personal waltz. One step. Two steps. Three steps, four. Again and again, until we’re half-hidden behind the heavy velvet curtains, away from prying eyes.
“What the hell are you doing?” She growls at me, sending shivers down my spine.
Haven’s back hits the wall with a soft thud. I plant my palms beside her head, boxing her in.
“Putting you in a timeout.”
The words sound like a joke, but my mind’s already somewhere darker…less clothes, more noise, her screaming my name. Fuck. It’s been so long since anything felt this real.
Her fury could peel paint, and it just makes me grin. She’s radiant like this, with anger and sharp edges. What will she do if I kiss her? Push her harder? Let her see exactly how close to the brink I am.
“You want me to be polite? Try not being a jackass in front of millions of people on live television by calling me a bitch or a leech in lip gloss. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. It has always been your MO to make me the scapegoat for all your crap.”
So, she saw the clip. Of course, she has.
“Careful, Gaillard,” I murmur. “You’re acting like you still care what I think.”
She leans in.
“I care about the tour. About salvaging what’s left of the band’s career.
And I care about you not making an idiot out of my father’s company despite your obsession with self-sabotage.
Don’t flatter yourself—I don’t give a damn about your opinion.
I’m just the one thing you never learned how to destroy. ”
Haven’s voice flays me alive, and yet like a moth to a flame, I step closer to my destruction.
Her body stiffens, but she doesn’t move away.
Her chin lifts, mouth parting, just enough to tempt me to do what I shouldn’t and kiss her.
I can still taste her lips. One night, and here I am five years later.
I still know the flavor of her lust, how her body molds to mine, and how it feels to hold her.
“You really think I haven’t destroyed you?” I whisper, and she shivers. I see it. Feel it.
The air between us sparks and burns.
“If I was breakable, you would’ve left me as ash years ago,” she says.
Anger…so much anger, but underneath it, there’s pain, the kind that sticks under your ribs and never leaves. But she was the one who left, not the other way around.
Her words still hit hard because she’s right. I tore her apart, one cruel word at a time. I lived off seeing the pain in her eyes, the unshed tears, and making her feel as shitty as I did. This is the only language we’ve ever spoken. Fury. Claws. Desire disguised as an all-out war.
My fists clench on either side of her head. Haven doesn’t flinch or blink. Her obstinacy only glows brighter and dares me closer.
I lean in and sniff her hair. The same blueberry smell that haunts my sheets now fills my senses. I breathe it in like I’m starving for oxygen.
“You still smell like spring rain, blueberry pie, and defiance.”
The words are reckless, touching her is pure stupidity, and yet I don’t move away.
Haven laughs.
“And you still reek of regret and poor decisions.” She mirrors me, tilting her head up until her breath skims my neck as she breathes in, sniffing me. Every muscle in me locks tight. Her smirk cuts deep. “Cheap cologne and desperation. Your signature scent.”
My jaw ticks. I move closer until there’s nothing left between us but air and sin. She doesn’t move, doesn’t yield, and gives nothing away.
“Tell me to stop,” I whisper. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
Her eyes narrow to slits.
“You don’t get to pretend you understand consent, not now, not with me. I’m here to do a job, nothing more. Now, let go of me, Cyrus. I’m tired of this game you’re obsessed with playing.”
She may as well have punched me in the gut. It feels like she is pulling me apart as easily as she can hold me together. What the hell happened to her in New York? She looks the same, but she’s not. She’s stronger. All the softness I remember has turned to armor.
I back off, giving us an inch. Just enough to breathe.
“You think I like hating you,” I ask quietly. “You think I don’t wish it could be different?”
One accusatory eyebrow raises.
“Maybe you have selective memory. I don’t.
” Her voice wavers ever so slightly. “I’ve lived every second of the last five years wiping all trace of you and your constant tearing me down from my mind until you were nothing but a bad dream.
You made us this way. But I should thank you.
Because now, nothing, no rumor, no television interview, and certainly no man, can touch me the way you once could.
I don’t hate you, Cyrus. I simply don’t care at all.
You mean nothing to me. You’re just a job. ”
The smile that lifts the corner of her mouth hurts more than her words. All I see is an endless abyss rolling toward me while I’ve spent every day pining for her…the girl who literally disappeared from my life overnight.
“That’s bullshit,” I say, but don’t know who I’m trying to convince.
“Don’t you get it? Every insult. Every headline. Every time you make my name a punchline…I’m stronger for it. You. Can’t. Break. Me. You’d better get ready, because I’m either getting you back on track…or I’m ending this band myself. Your future is now in my hands.”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Lots of talk, but you still came, Haven. You didn’t come here to babysit me. You want to be here.”
She tilts her head, unshaken.
“I’m here because my father asked me to be. Because I’m getting ready to take over LG Records, and I can’t be bothered avoiding my past and whatever toxic wasteland this is between us any longer.”
Haven’s eyes search mine, and I feel her touching the deepest parts of me, like claws raking down my soul.
“You want to keep playing this game? Fine. But I’m not the girl you can drag under the water anymore. Understand?”
The memory hits…her gasping, eyes wide, me laughing to hide my panic. I scared her. Hell, I scared myself. And instead of apologizing, I turned it into a bad joke. I was a coward with a cruel mouth.
Haven leans in, forcing me to back up this time.
“Now,” she says, voice so resigned that I’m envious of her strength. “I know exactly who I am. And you’re going to get right, or this time, I’ll be the one crushing you.”
Fuck. Hottest words ever.
“And make no mistake Cyrus…I’ll cut you out of this band so fast it will make your head spin. Now, get out of my way. I have work to do to rebuild your brand.”
I step aside, slowly, because if I move too fast, I may do something stupid like grab her again and kiss her.
Her eyes skim me up and down, filled with disappointment, disapproval, and something else I can’t name. The worst part? She’s the person whose opinion still matters. The only opinion that matters. The person who may actually bring out the best in me.
Haven brushes past, and her shoulder grazes mine. It’s barely contact, but it sears my skin.
I watch as she walks away, heart thumping so hard it hurts. Behind me, the silence breaks, and I remember where I am.
Vex lets out a low whistle. “Jesus Christ. You two need a cage match or a motel room. That was fucking hot,” he says.
“Maybe we should put a bed in a cage and leave it in a motel room,” Ash adds.
“With cameras? Cause we need to see round two,” Vex says.
“Shut up. I don’t need to see Cy having sex with the boss’s daughter. That’s the makings of a bad porno,” Ledger groans.
Eren stares at me with a look somewhere between sympathy and judgment, while Declan pretends the ceiling is interesting.
But I can’t stop watching where she disappeared through the door. Haven has always been tough. Always a thorn in my side. But now? She’s a sniper with perfect aim. And I can’t decide if I want to win this war or surrender.
I grab my mic and try to focus, but every lyric sounds wrong, every breath feels hollow. I rub a hand down my face.
“Take five,” I mutter, and walk out before any of the assholes behind me can comment.
If the compassionate Haven Gaillard can’t see anything in me worth saving…then maybe there really is nothing left to save.
HAVEN
I make it down the hallway before the adrenaline subsides, and I’m left with every muscle quaking. My lungs ache and my pulse races. I duck between two equipment crates, out of sight, and press my back to the wall.
Air. I just need air.
What the hell was that?