by Amity Cross
“When you first started making music, what did you want?” I prodded. “Think about that. It’s the bit that comes after that derails people. I imagine there’s a lot of temptation to do things you’d never thought you’d ever do to keep up with the status quo.”
“Or to hold onto your fame because you know it’s fleeting,” she said, startling me. “I’m not like Sebastian. He’ll be around for the long haul and be inducted into the Hall of Fame and everything. If I put out one bad single, I’m done. There’re a million other girls out there that are younger, prettier, and don’t need as much producing as I do. I’m a dime a dozen, Juniper.”
I don’t know what she was expecting me to say, let alone do. Did she just want a shoulder to cry on? Was that what this visit was all about? I should’ve just flushed the USB instead of giving it back to her.
Her gaze fell to my hand and her eyes widened. “Is that—”
“An engagement ring,” I finished for her.
Mallory’s expression changed so quickly, I hardly noticed it before she schooled herself back into submission.
“I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “He asked you to marry him?”
“Yeah, he asked me.”
“And he gave you that?” She spat the word ‘that’ like the ring was an insult. “But it’s so… so small.”
“It’s what I always wanted,” I fired back, my annoyance flaring. “He knows who I am and what I want. This ring is about us and no one else.”
I was already doubting her reasons for coming here, but now I was well and truly fed up with the thinly veiled attacks on mine and Sebastian’s relationship. It seemed she couldn’t let go.
It wasn’t just Mallory, it was everything and everyone. Opinions were like arseholes and they were in oversupply. The tabloids had their theories, the fans had theirs, too—as did Mallory and every Tom, Dick, and fucking Harry. After being on the brink of death, I’ve lost my patience. Standing on that precipice sure had a way of making you reevaluate your use of tact in moments like these.
“Why are you here, Mallory?” I demanded.
“I’m here to apologise.”
I snorted. “When I gave you that USB, it was my full-stop moment. That gesture was me closing the door in your face. I don’t want anything to do with your games, and neither does Sebastian. We’re in love, Mallory—true fucking love—and nothing’s going to stop us from being together. A sex tape didn’t hold us apart for long, neither did a stalker with a gun. It’s about time people realised that nothing is going to tear us apart when we’re destined to be together.”
She recoiled like I’d slapped her, but I could see the jealousy written all over her face. She still wanted Sebastian, but I wasn’t sure if her manipulations were fuelled by the desire to hang onto her career… or because she actually loved him.
“I guess I deserve that,” she muttered.
“Mallory, you need to forget about Sebastian and move on. Lashing out at us is not going to make you feel any better. Find your love for your music, find a man who’ll love you for you. Enjoy what you have, because you’ve got a lot. You get to perform all over the world, you’re one of the highest paid pop stars in America, and you’ve got millions of fans who adore you.”
“But it’s empty,” she snapped.
It was my turn to stare at her. She was jealous. Sebastian and I had something real and it was exactly what she wanted with him all along, but when he didn’t feel the same way, she lashed out.
It was supposed to be me.
The woman’s words echoed through my mind, and I flinched as the sound of the gunshot that’d tore through me ricocheted in my head. I pressed my palm against the scar on my head—the scar that was still tender to the touch—and closed my eyes.
“You need to move on,” I said, wondering where I’d put my pain meds. “You need to let go of your disappointment and look to the future. Staying here will only destroy you, Mallory.”
“Easy for you to say.”
I fumbled for my walking stick and pushed to my feet. Ziggy’s head shot up and he watched as I shuffled around the coffee table.
“Goodbye, Mallory,” I declared. “It was nice of you to stop by to see how I was doing, but you need to leave.”
“Juniper—”
“Goodbye, Mallory.”
Scowling, she snatched her bag and stalked towards the front door. It took me a moment to catch up, and when I did, she turned and asked, “Why did he choose you over me?”
“Love chooses,” I replied. “We’re just slaves to it.”
She scoffed like she thought my answer was the cop-out of the century.
“You can’t force someone to love you.” I wasn’t sure how many times I had to tell her that before she realised.
She pouted and wrenched open the door. Luckily, there wasn’t any paparazzi hanging over the fence as she stalked towards the sleek black car waiting for her outside in the driveway.
Closing the door, I leaned my back against the cool metal finish and let out a heavy sigh, my stomach aching. The short walk had exhausted me more than the crazy that’d just happened.
Outside, I could hear Mallory barking commands to her driver. She could throw whatever she liked at me, I didn’t care—I had multiple verified social media accounts and I wasn’t afraid to use them. It was like Sebastian said, I was somebody now. I was somebody, and people wanted to hear what I had to say. If I was going to make a stand against bullying and start a charity dedicated to it, then I had to be prepared to face it when it came chomping at my heels. The only way to battle that kind of fire was living my best fucking life and adding in a dash of truth.
What was that saying? You could lead a horse to water, but you couldn’t make it drink? Yeah, that.
“Statfield?” I called out.
He appeared from within the house like a bolt of lightning. “Everything okay, Miss Rowe?”
I sighed. We were back to Miss Rowe again.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” I said, pressing my palm against my stomach.
He frowned. “It was my job to keep you safe.”
“You did everything you could,” I said. “She was determined to get in here, and I don’t think anyone could stop her.”
“I still feel responsible.”
I placed my hand on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t.”
A fleeting look of pain flashed across his heavy features and he glanced down at the walking stick in my hand. “Thank you.”
“Mallory left, thank goodness, but can we put her on the ‘no fly’ list? I don’t want her coming back here.” She needed to let go and move on.
Statfield nodded. “Consider it done.”
At the thought of moving on from past hurts, I glanced towards the part of the McMansion I’d been too afraid to look at. “I think I’m ready to go to the kitchen now.”
“You don’t want to wait for Mr. Hale?”
I shook my head. “This is something I have to do on my own.” I held out my arm. “I need some help getting there, though.”
Statfield threaded his muscled arm through mine and let me lean on him as I made my way down the hall and into the danger zone.
“Okay?” he asked as I stopped in my tracks.
“Yeah.” I propped myself against the island and waved him away.
The kitchen was pristine. There were no signs that anything had happened here at all.
I let out a sigh and lifted the lid covering the plate of chocolate muffins Vanessa had left behind. Plucking a juicy looking one off the pile, I sat on a stool and picked at the chocolate chips. Staring at the floor where Sebastian and I had been standing on Christmas eve, I let my mind go.
Memories flashed, and I tensed, but I didn’t back down. It wasn’t our fault. It wasn’t mine, Sebastian’s, or Statfield’s. It was the illness that’d driven that woman to fixate on me that was the issue.
In a way, the same desires fuelled Mallory. Unrequited love. The illusion of passion.
The fantasy of always and forever. She’d loved him in her own twisted way, too. Lashing out and punishing him was her way of coping with the pain.
I was still there when Sebastian got home an hour later.
“You’re in the kitchen,” he said, stating the obvious.
“The lure of chocolate was too much to bear,” I replied, picking at the second muffin I’d decided to add to the first in my stomach. “I’m not going to let the memory of what happened here rule me.”
He smiled and slid onto the stool next to mine. “You better have saved me one of those muffins.”
I gave him some epic side-eye and said, “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Fuck, you surprise me every single day. I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you.”
“Anyway,” I declared, itching to tell him about the excitement he’d missed. “You’ll never guess what happened today.”
“What? It sounds juicy.”
“Positively dripping with it,” I drawled. “I had a visitor this afternoon. Mallory Grigorio.”
“Mallory?” Sebastian’s smile faded into a scowl. “She was here?”
I pressed my finger against the knot between his eyebrows and said, “Mallory fucking Grigorio.”
“What did she want?”
“Don’t worry,” I said, breaking off a piece of muffin. “Hopefully she found what she was looking for.”
“Which was?”
“Closure.”
10
Sebastian
The view from Josh’s apartment in Woolloomooloo was spectacular. Staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the skyline, I wondered if Juniper wanted to live in a house or a place like this. It’d be more secure up here, but she was used to living in the outdoors—close to the water, the bush, and away from the city. I made a mental note to ask her how she felt about high-rises.
My meeting with Myers the other day hadn’t gone well at all. He had nothing good to tell me, and now I had to tell everyone else. Beneath had never taken a hiatus—forced or otherwise—in the ten years we’d been together. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure any of us knew how to not be rock stars living their lives on the road and sleeping on the couches of a recording studio.
Time off? What the hell was that?
The climax of the day had been coming home to Juniper telling me about her visit from Mallory. That was another mountain I wasn’t keen on climbing. Thankfully, she was now on the banned list, but after hearing what Juniper had said to her, I wasn’t sure she was keen on making a repeat trip up the driveway anyway.
“What are we going to do about the tour?” Nate was saying behind me. “It’s not easy to get all those dates rebooked.”
“I spoke to Myers about it,” I said, turning away from the windows. “I went to see him a couple of days ago.”
“And?” Josh prodded.
“There’s still no word on a manager and with things still up in the air with the trial against Vix, he thought it best we didn’t leave the country in case we have to testify in court. Cancelling more dates after the whole tour was pulled once already would be a PR nightmare.”
“So, we’re on hold,” Nate shook his head, “for who knows how long.”
“Fuck that,” Damon cursed. “We have shit to do! We can’t just put the band on hold.”
“Yeah. What about Harry?” Nate asked. “He’d step up and take the job. He’s brilliant, knows everyone, and has more integrity than Vix ever had.”
“Vix never had any,” Josh drawled.
“The band’s stalled,” Nate said. “If we can’t get back out on the road, then the album’s dead. It’s a long slide to the bottom from there.”
“Then we go indie,” Josh said. “Fuck Galaxy and go out on our own. We’ve got the fans, the contacts, and the money to do it. We wouldn’t have to worry about sale targets or any of that shit. As long as we can cover costs and make at least some profit, there’s something in it right? Creative freedom for one.”
It was a brilliant idea, but I wasn’t sure it was the right one. My mindset was way off.
“I don’t know,” I said. “This whole life—”
“Fuck, don’t tell me you’re going to split again,” Damon declared. “It was bad enough last time and that wasn’t even a year ago. Just saying.”
I shrugged. “A year ago a fan didn’t try to kill my girlfriend.”
“You can’t just give up because of one crazed fan,” Josh said. “It’s not the first time someone like that has tried to get close.”
“Juniper almost died,” I exclaimed. “It’s not the same as finding random naked women in your bed.”
“You want to explain this?” Damon demanded, holding up his phone.
“What now?” I raged, snatching it from him.
The article headline said it all. Mallory Grigorio and Juniper Rowe—Best Friends? It was followed by a paparazzi shot of the biggest pain in my arse making a show of being at my house. Mallory Grigorio was like a bad smell that wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard you scrubbed.
“That’s bullshit,” I said. “Juniper and Mallory aren’t friends.”
“You do understand that Mallory is trying to destroy Victoria’s life, right?” Damon asked, the vein in his forehead throbbing.
“I hear she’s giving it as good as she’s getting it,” I drawled.
“You’re insulting my sister, Juniper is teaming up with Mallory, and now you want to quit the band?” Damon shouted. “You think you’re untouchable, but you’re not!”
“Listen to what you’re saying!” I roared back.
“You’re the one who’s not listening, Seb. We were meant to stick together, no matter what. We were there for you when Juniper was in the hospital, and when we went up against Vix,” he went on. “Not to mention all the times we stuck up for each other over the years. I can’t even count all the times I’ve gotten into brawls because of some angry boyfriend or jerk who tried to take out your arse. Or all the fucking scandals we’ve kept out of the press, or the ones I’ve taken the fall for because your image was the most important out of all of us. I’m sick of it!” He shoved me, and I stumbled back.
I growled and stepped forward, but Damon was already swinging. His fist connected to my face with a sickening smack and my head was forced to the side.
“Hey!” Josh shouted, pushing between us. “Knock it off!”
Damon hissed and shook his hand. “Get your act together, Hale,” he said, jabbing a finger at me. “We made a pact, remember? We’re family. Beneath is a brotherhood, and we don’t turn our backs on it. Don’t fucking forget it.”
“She was pregnant!” I boomed. That shut them up. “We didn’t know until the doctor told me that they had to… That woman killed our fucking baby and almost took Juniper away, too! My fame almost fucking killed her!” I ran my hand over my face. “Fuck!” I thought shouting out my frustration would help release the tension, but I was wrong. “Screw you, Damon. Screw the lot of you.”
I snatched up my phone and strode from the apartment, a whirlwind of pure anger. I was vaguely aware that my face was throbbing, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything but Juniper.
“Let him go,” I heard Josh say. “He needs to cool down.”
“He’s not the only one,” Nate said as I slammed the door behind me.
It wasn’t until I’d left that I realised I hadn’t told them I’d asked Juniper to marry me.
Needless to say, I was relieved to get back to the McMansion. Juniper was on the couch watching the sunset when I walked in. Her hair was swept to the side, the shaved section and her scar on full display. I still cringed a little when I saw it—the reminder was a little unwelcomed—but it seemed to be a symbol of strength for her, so I let it slide.
Ziggy wasn’t in the house, and I wondered if Farmer had taken him for another walk. That dog had the entire security staff wrapped around his little paw.
I pressed my fingers against the cut on my cheek and hissed.
&
nbsp; She turned at the sound and when she saw the angry mark on my face, her mouth dropped open. “What happened to you?”
“Damon punched me,” I grumbled, sitting beside her.
“He what?” She grasped my face and tilted my head to the side so she could see the red mark. “Why would he do that?”
“Mallory’s spinning it to the press that you two are best friends. Of course, Damon’s fiercely loyal to Victoria, so he sees it as a betrayal.”
Juniper gasped. “She what?”
“You should see her Twitter feed,” I drawled. “Whatever feud those two have got going on must be over something epic.”
“I’m not sure I want to know.”
“Me neither.” But these things had an uncanny way of becoming my issue sooner or later.
“It was weird…” Juniper mused. “When Mallory was here, she was going on about how she had to do whatever it took to keep her career afloat. That it was easy for you, but there was always a younger woman who needed less producing just waiting to take her place.”
I snorted. “So, she basically called herself a talentless hack?”
“Sebastian.”
“What? You said it, not me.”
She sighed and melted against me. “The whole visit was strange. It was like she didn’t know how to be sincere.”
“I’ve a feeling her schemes have come to define who she is as a person.”
“Which is why I wanted to walk away.”
I grunted, thinking about the argument I’d had with the guys. Even the slightest mention that I was thinking about leaving the band had caused a rift I wasn’t sure I could repair. Damon had snapped, Josh looked betrayed, and Nate’s anger was palpable.
What else was I supposed to do? Everything I’d done to protect Juniper had failed.
“What did the guys say about the tour?” she asked. “Are you going to get back on the road any time soon?”
“The band might be splitting up…” I muttered. “and it’s all because of me.”
“Because of you?”
“We had a huge fight. Damon didn’t just punch me because of the Mallory thing.” He was right about a lot of things and it stung.