Staged (Exodus End World Tour, #3)

by Cunning, Olivia

  Steve so wanted to punch the guy in the throat, but what if he made good on his threat to harm Roux? Steve would never forgive himself for not protecting her and her sisters from that piece of slime. Was there any way he could get the band away from him? He knew Baroquen had signed a contract, and knowing what Sam Baily’s contracts were like from personal experience, he figured it had been signed in blood with provisions about brain donations or something equally horrifying should they break their agreement.

  Sam hurried away, looking for someone else to annoy. He settled on some poor stagehand, who he berated for the feedback issues that had plagued the beginning of Baroquen’s set. And then Tamara came running up to him and actually hugged him, smiling a greeting so friendly, Steve thought he might puke. Unable to endure two of his least favorite people within spitting distance, Steve started walking in the direction he’d last seen Baroquen.

  “Why is he here?” Zach asked.

  Steve had completely forgotten Zach was beside him. “Who the fuck knows? He’s up to no good, that’s for sure.”

  “I thought he might say something about me tagging along, but he didn’t so much as look at me.”

  “I’m sure he has bigger fish to fry.” Steve huffed out a cynical laugh. “And I’ve always been his whale shark.”

  “He does love to annoy you.”

  And he was so good at it.

  Steve spotted Roux, who had separated from the group looking for a party to crash and was watching him approach while fiddling with the ghost of the bullet she used to wear around her wrist. Though he knew she missed it, she had yet to ask for it back, but he unfastened the chain around his wrist as he walked toward her. He had the feeling she was going to need more comfort than he could publicly offer her.

  When he drew to a halt in front of her, she asked, “Were you just talking to Sam Baily?”

  “His twin brother,” Zach joked.

  Steve secured the bracelet around her wrist, removing the extender he’d added to make it fit his thicker arm. She looked like he’d slapped her.

  “Why are you giving this back? You’re not dumping me—”

  “Of course not.” He couldn’t stop himself from taking her shoulders between his hands and staring into her eyes, but he showed a huge amount of self-control by not dragging her against his chest and holding her tight. “I thought you might need it to help you deal with the stress Sam’s bound to bring with him.”

  “More stress? I don’t have enough already?”

  “He knows we’re involved.”

  She blinked those long fake lashes. “What?”

  It was killing him that he couldn’t comfort her. He wanted to stroke the hair from her face and kiss her wrist and press her fingers against his cheek, but he couldn’t do any of that with so many eyes watching them.

  “You should be fine if you do what he says,” he told her. But what would Sam do if they refused?

  Roux swallowed, looking pale even with all the makeup on her face. “What does he want me to do?”

  “Not you specifically. He’s had some tent set up outside the main stage and wants your band to continue autographing forearms. You’ll probably be there all night and have to miss Sinners’ show.”

  “Oh.” She dropped her gaze. “Well, Iona did promise some fans that we’d sign more after our set, but everyone will be devastated that we have to miss Sinners.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be able to hear them from the signing tent.”

  “Maybe no one will show up for our autographs and we’ll get to leave early.”

  She smiled, and he didn’t know whether to tell her he hoped that too, or if he hoped that they were so insanely busy catering to all their new fans that they wouldn’t even realize Sinners was performing.

  “I’m guessing that’s not going to happen,” Zach said.

  Roux stood on tiptoe and glanced over the crowd, most likely trying to see where her sisters had gone. Her bandmates’ colorful wigs and costumes made them easy to spot in a crowd, especially for Steve, whose height served as an advantage over those less vertically gifted.

  “There they are.” Steve pointed.

  To his surprise, Roux took his hand and tried to lead him in that direction. Wishing he could let her, but knowing it wasn’t wise, he pulled his hand free of hers. She looked back at him in question.

  “I told you Sam knows about us,” he said quietly. “And he’s probably validating Tamara’s suspicions as we speak.”

  “Then there’s not much sense in trying to hide our relationship anymore, is there?”

  He smiled and took her hand, leading the way. She grabbed Zach’s hand in her free one to keep them from getting separated in the crowd of musicians, stagehands, technicians, and backstage-pass-wielding fans milling about. Steve’s mood lightened now that he had two of his favorite people within spitting distance. Roux and Zach were a marked improvement over Sam Baily and Tamara Brennan.

  When they caught up with Roux’s sisters, Roux released Zach’s hand—but not Steve’s—and tugged on Iona’s sleeve.

  “Sam Baily is here,” Roux said.

  Iona brightened. “He is?”

  “Yeah. He’s having a signing tent set up for us outside the main stage’s entrance.”

  “I’m sure the event organizers love that,” Lily said with a snort.

  Steve forced himself not to stare at her chest. She was even bustier than Toni, and Toni was stacked. He did so enjoy the female anatomy. He squeezed Roux’s hand in case she could read his wandering thoughts, wanting to assure her that her female anatomy was the absolute best.

  “Ah, come on,” Azura complained. “Don’t we get to celebrate even a little?”

  “We’ll celebrate with the fans,” Iona said. “It will be fun and productive.”

  She was so like Max, Steve couldn’t help but chuckle aloud. Lord help them all.

  “And lucrative.”

  Sam’s voice coming from behind Steve made his neck tense.

  “I’ve managed to round up a few cases of CDs for you to sell,” Sam added.

  “Awesome,” Iona said.

  Roux’s hand had become very damp against Steve’s palm. Or maybe he was the one sweating buckets.

  “You okay?” he whispered near her ear.

  Her gaze followed Iona and Sam, who were now walking in the direction of the main stage, already deeply immersed in conversation.

  “I don’t trust him,” Roux said.

  “Because you’re a good judge of character,” he said. “Iona—like Max—is a good judge of opportunity. It’s going to be damn near impossible to convince your sister that her aspiration’s new best friend is bad news.”

  She moved close to whisper into his ear. “Maybe if you told me why you’re firing him, I’d have suitable ammunition to sway her opinion.”

  “He’s being fired for too many reasons to count,” he said, “but the one that finally pushed Max over the edge . . .”

  Her eyes brightened with curiosity.

  “I can’t tell you yet. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just can’t.”

  “He won’t tell me either,” Zach said, reminding Steve once again that his favorite third wheel was still hanging around.

  “How did he find out about us? And so quickly?” Roux asked. “We were so careful in public.”

  Only one possibility made sense to Steve. “Probably some member of our security team.”

  “Butch?”

  Steve shook his head. “No way. He hates that guy almost as much as I do, and he would never break a confidence. Some of our team aren’t paid directly by us but by the tour company, which Sam runs, so their loyalty is slightly off.”

  Roux released a breath and then turned to follow her sisters to the yet-to-be-seen signing tent.

  “I’m not sure we could get out of our contract even if we wanted to,” Roux said, apparently not quite ready to drop the subject of Sam. “So maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t know what he’s done.�
��

  Steve wrapped an arm around her shoulders, overjoyed when she didn’t resist. So they were really going public? Several heads turned in their direction as they passed, but no one seemed overly surprised that they were together. They must not realize the significance of the seemingly casual interaction, but Steve recognized it.

  When they reached the tent, event organizers were still setting up tables, but a line of fans had already formed. Their excitement over meeting Baroquen became frenzied when they recognized Steve had accompanied the new band.

  “You’re going to have to leave,” Sam told him.

  “But the fans want to see him,” Roux protested, her hand tightening on his.

  “Of course they do,” Sam said. “But he will serve as a distraction, and that’s not what we’re going for here. You want all the attention and buzz on your band, not on him.”

  Roux glanced up at Steve, obviously torn between wanting to keep him close and telling him to get lost.

  “I have a bunch of stuff I need to do anyway.” Lie. Huge fucking lie. But he agreed with Sam, damn it all. He would end up drawing attention away from Baroquen, and that wouldn’t be fair to them.

  “I’ll miss you,” Roux said, and to his utter astonishment, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him in front of a huge crowd of catcalling fans and amid a multitude of camera flashes. “I had to do that in case any of these ass-ogling women weren’t sure you were with me,” she said with a grin.

  “Wouldn’t matter one bit,” he said. “My insanely hot ass has no interest in being ogled by anyone but you.” He shrugged. “Well, by you and this one other hot chick I’m undeniably attracted to.”

  She slapped his shoulder. “Who?”

  “A sweet redhead named Katie.”

  “Oh.” She rubbed the spot where she’d slapped him. “I’ll allow that one to ogle at will.”

  He kissed her goodbye, and it felt so great to claim her publicly that he had a hard time letting her go. He watched her until she was safely inside the tent, checking to make sure there were enough security guards to control the crowd. His heart twisted a little when she squeezed the bullet he’d just returned to her, but he held his ground until she was seated between Iona and Lily. He took a deep breath and turned away before clapping a hand on Zach’s shoulder, intending to seek out the never-ending backstage party he had no interest in attending.

  “Did you see Tamara’s face when you and Roux kissed?” Zach said with a delighted laugh.

  Actually, he hadn’t realized Tamara was even there. “Nope. I was too busy enjoying myself.”

  “I think she’s still in love with you, man.”

  “Obsessed with me, you mean?” He shivered, even though the day was warm.

  Zach nodded. “You remember how crazy she got the last time she was around you. Do you still have a restraining order?”

  “I think it expired.” Steve shrugged. “I don’t think it would be valid in Europe, anyway. I’m not afraid of her if that’s what you think.”

  “I would be. There’s no telling what she’ll do to Roux if she’s jealous.”

  To Roux? Steve hadn’t considered that. In the past, Tamara had always siphoned all her crazy toward him, until she’d finally given up on him ever being interested in her. Or had she given up? Had she positioned herself next to the band again out of spite, or did she have another agenda in mind?

  “Good thing I have you here as backup,” Steve said, whacking Zach on the shoulder several times. He didn’t want to waste oxygen on Tamara by giving her any more thought.

  “Speaking of me being here, I’ve been meaning to ask: Where am I supposed to sleep? The hotel is booked, and it’s not like my tour bus is here, so I can’t crash there.”

  “And you’re assuming Roux sleeps in my room, so I’m not willing to share.”

  Zach’s eyes widened. “She doesn’t?”

  “Of course she does. So maybe you can have her bed since she’s not using it.”

  “Isn’t she rooming with one of her sisters?”

  “Raven, I believe.”

  Zach clapped his hands. “Sweet. Raven’s a blast. Hopefully, she won’t mind bunking with a dude.”

  “If she says no, you could always camp with the festivalgoers. I’m sure no one would notice if an extra guy ended up in the orgy tent.”

  “They’d notice if you were there.”

  “Yeah, but I’m famous. You’re just . . . Zach.”

  Zach punched him, but he was laughing. “You’re such an egotistical shithead.”

  “Do you love me because I’m a shithead or despite it?”

  “Neither. In truth, I only love you because you’re famous.”

  Steve covered his heart with one hand. “Ow. Wounded. Wounded.”

  “And for the record, I’m famous enough for your ex-wife to publish bullshit stories about me in her tabloid this week.”

  “Is it about hooking up with me or Enrique this time? Either way, does it bother you that the world thinks you have bad taste in men?”

  Zach laughed. “I could do worse,” he said. “But according to this particular line of bullshit, you’re finished with me for good.”

  “That’s a relief. I kept wondering when we were going to break up so I could move on with my life.”

  Zach licked his lips, and though he was talking to Steve, he seemed to find everything around them far more interesting to look at. “The story said you kicked my band off your tour because you found out I was fooling around with an unnamed actor.”

  “It laid the blame on me? Are you kidding?”

  “I have to warn you that our fans are pretty pissed about it. We don’t have the millions that you do, but the ones we do have are very loyal. They started a flame war against Exodus End online, and Toby is trying to calm them down, but in case you run into one of the twenty people on the planet who care, I thought I should tell you that they blame you specifically.”

  “It was entirely Sam’s decision to fire Twisted Element.”

  “I know that. And he’s probably the one who decided this was a great slant on the truth. He does so love to make your life hell.”

  “Just when I think I can’t hate that man any more than I already do.” And now he had to worry about Sam hurting Roux to get to him. Sam had done exactly that to Zach with those tabloid stories that stopped just short of libel. Or Bianca had. He still wasn’t sure which of them spearheaded the slur campaigns against him. Maybe they were in it together. Her sister Tamara sure seemed to know, and inexplicably like, Sam.

  “I think I know how to get to the bottom of this,” he said. He just wasn’t sure he could manage a civil conversation with his ex-sister-in-law. She’d always rubbed him the wrong way. Mostly because she was always trying to rub on him.

  “Bottom of what?”

  “Discovering who’s out to make my life hell. Is it Sam, Bianca, Tamara, or some combination of the three?”

  “Your ego is blocking out the sun again,” Zach said, squinting up at the sky. “I don’t think they spend their days trying to figure out how to fuck you over specifically.”

  Steve didn’t agree.

  “It’s not ego,” he said with a snort. “Paranoia, maybe, but you’ve seen how many stories are dedicated to making me look worse than I already do. I’m just the drummer. No one cares about drummers.” He threw up his hands.

  “Hey, I’m just the drummer too, and I’m the most recognized member of my band.”

  “Because you hang out with me,” Steve said. That wasn’t his ego talking. It was a fact.

  Zach sighed. “So what’s your plan?”

  “I have to get Tamara alone and convince her to talk.” Bianca hadn’t told him much of anything when he’d confronted her a few weeks ago. And Sam didn’t know how to speak the truth.

  “Should be easy. Take your pants off and she’ll not only materialize, but do anything you want.”

  Steve’s balls attempted to crawl up into his body as a shudd
er of revulsion rippled through him. “Maybe you should come with me.”

  “You’re not afraid of being alone with her, are you?”

  Steve had the urge to beat the smug smirk right off Zach’s face.

  “Terrified,” Steve admitted.

  “Me too,” Zach said. “But I’m sure she’ll open up to you if you’re alone with her.”

  That was exactly what he was afraid of. Steve blew out a deep breath.

  “All right, I’ll try. But how do I find her?”

  “That’s easy,” Zach said. “She’s been following us since we left Baroquen’s signing tent.”

  Steve stopped walking and searched over his shoulder. He didn’t see her at first, but her rapidly ducking behind a light post drew his attention. “Shit. You don’t think she overheard us, do you?”

  Zach shook his head. “It’s too noisy, and she was several yards back.” He patted Steve’s shoulder and gave it a shove in her direction. “Go get her, stud. I hear pillow talk is most effective in these situations.”

  “Not even funny.” Steve blew out another breath—wondering why a potential interaction had him feeling so uneasy—and then stood straight. He wasn’t afraid of her. What could she possibly do to him that she hadn’t already tried? “Wish me luck.” He turned and walked rather stiffly toward the lamp post and the burgundy-haired reporter trying to hide behind it.

  “Do you need to borrow a condom?” Zach called after him.

  Steve extended a middle finger in his direction, praying that Tamara hadn’t heard him. He didn’t want her to get any ideas. He just wanted to know who his real enemy was, and she was more likely to tell him straight than was weasel-in-alligator-shoes Sam or more-bitter-than-week-old-espresso Bianca. As he walked toward Tamara’s lame hiding spot, he mentally coached himself. Be cool. Don’t yell at her. Be charming. Smile. He tried to smile, but ended up scowling. This isn’t just for you. It’s also to protect Roux and Zach and your bandmates, your friends and family. Enough is enough. Fuck, tabloids suck! I hate them. He could feel his anger growing. He took a deep breath. Be cool.

  When he reached the light post, Tamara looked up at him, wide-eyed, and slipped around the pole as if the opposite side provided more protection.