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by Olivia Cunning


  “You know, it started out that way,” Reagan said, chewing on the end of her finger thoughtfully. “But nope, we’re all emotionally invested now.”

  “That’s wild,” Toni said for lack of anything more poignant to add.

  “It just feels natural to us. But the rest of the world doesn’t get it. They might never get it. So that’s why I try to hide it.”

  Toni nodded. She didn’t get it, so she was sure plenty of folks out there were unable to grasp the concept. She didn’t hold their unique lifestyle against them—love was love—but she knew there were a lot of people in the world who would hold it against them. And try to destroy what they had. So Toni completely understood why Reagan was keeping the truth about her complicated love life a secret.

  “I won’t tell anyone,” Toni said. Though she would like to discuss it with Logan, her sex instructor. Maybe he could explain some of the sexual parts of a polyamorous relationship to her. “Does Logan know?”

  “Yeah. All the guys in Sinners know and all the guys in Exodus End know, but no one else.”

  “Not even Butch?”

  “Of course Butch knows. He helps us hide it more than anyone. But no one else knows. Well, except Myrna and Jessica. Um, and Rebekah Sticks and Jace’s fiancée, Aggie.” Reagan cringed. “And a couple of the security team. Shit. I didn’t realize how many people know about us. It’s kind of scary, you know?”

  Toni nodded. She didn’t plan to talk about it in front of anyone—with the exception of Logan—but it was good to know who was privy to the information, just in case something slipped or the trio needed help covering their trail. Toni would do her best to help Reagan keep her secret.

  “What does your family think about it?”

  Reagan paled. “My family definitely doesn’t know. And I hope they never will. My father would die. And he’d take me with him.”

  “He’d probably freak out at first, but I’m sure he just wants you to be happy.”

  Reagan shook her head. “Nope. He wants me to be like you when I grow up.”

  Toni tilted her head, wondering what she meant by that. “Like me?”

  “A sweet and charming good girl.”

  Well, that didn’t sound very fun. Toni scowled.

  “Who has been irreparably damaged by a very, very bad boy.” Reagan laughed. “Don’t look so glum, sweetie. Same thing happened to me. I just happened to be fifteen at the time.”

  “I’m a late bloomer,” Toni said and laughed.

  “Those bad boys are an addictive adrenaline rush. Once you’re hooked, you’ll keep going back for more.”

  “Until it takes two to feed your addiction?”

  Mouth open, Reagan blinked at her in astonishment. But before Toni could utter the quick apology on her tongue, Reagan burst out laughing.

  “I never thought of it that way, but I think you might be right.”

  The door slid open. “That doesn’t sound like making out to me,” Logan said, peeking in at them from between the doorframe and the edge of the sliding door.

  “Privacy!” Reagan tossed a pillow that hit him square in the face.

  “We’re stopping for sandwiches, and Butch told me to ask Toni what she wants.”

  Steve’s head appeared over the top of Logan’s head as he stood on tiptoe to peer in at them.

  “He means Butch was headed back to ask Toni what she wants, but at the mention of her name, Logan tackled Butch to the floor and sprinted to the back of the bus because he’s obsessed.”

  Logan frowned, turned to shove Steve off his back, and then smiled into the lounge again. “So what would you like?” he asked Toni, his gaze so intense she could almost feel it against her skin.

  “Oh my God, he is obsessed!” Reagan shouted.

  “Shut up! The woman has to eat.”

  “What do they have?” Toni asked, trying not to grin at the way Logan’s bandmates were teasing him.

  “Cold cut subs.”

  “Turkey on wheat with extra jalapeños.”

  “You won’t want her to suck your dick tonight,” Steve joked. “It’ll burn so bad, you’ll need a fire extinguisher.”

  Logan covered Steve’s face with his splayed hand and shoved him out of view again.

  “Oh.” Toni nibbled on her lower lip. She hadn’t considered what effect eating jalapeños would have on Logan’s anatomy. “Hold the jalapeños.”

  Logan grinned and winked at her before turning away. “Guess who’s getting his dick sucked?” he said to Steve as he slid the door shut. “Again.”

  Toni’s face flamed much hotter than any jalapeño that had ever existed. “Are guys always that embarrassing?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Toni lifted her recording device. “I’m going to turn this on now,” she warned, “so anything you say is fair game for the book.”

  Reagan nodded, and Toni pressed the record button.

  “How did you get picked to play guitar for Exodus End?”

  “Their manager, Sam Baily, thought it would be good publicity to do a contest. So hundreds, maybe thousands, of hopeful guitarists sent in demos of their work. I actually entered on a dare. Anyway, the top five were selected by Sam—which I didn’t realize until recently. Have you met Sam yet?”

  Toni shook her head.

  “That would explain why you’re still here.”

  Before Toni could ask what Reagan meant by that, Reagan continued her story.

  “The top five had to audition live for the band, except the guys couldn’t see us. They had to base their pick solely on our sound.”

  “So I’m assuming you won?”

  “Yeah. I couldn’t believe it. And neither could Pyre Vamp, apparently.” Reagan’s lip curled and she lifted a hand to cover her throat.

  “The guitarist for Hell’s Crypt?”

  “Yep, that’s the guy.”

  “Didn’t they unexpectedly pull out of the tour last month?” Toni had run across that tidbit when she’d been preparing for her trip. The details of Hell’s Crypt leaving the tour had been vague.

  “They sure did. Because of this.” She traced a faded yellow mark on her neck.

  “Is it that a bruise?” Toni had no idea how a bruise would lead to an up-and-coming band pulling out of a career-changing tour with Exodus End.

  “It’s almost gone now. You should have seen it a week ago.”

  Toni leaned in for a closer inspection. The fading mark completely circled Reagan’s neck.

  “How didn’t I notice that before?” Toni asked. It was faded, but hard to overlook.

  “I’ve been putting makeup on it to cover it. Is it still noticeable?”

  Toni nodded. “It looks like you tried to hang yourself.”

  “Dude tried to strangle me with a guitar string. Pyre did this.”

  “No shit?” Toni blurted. “You must have been terrified.”

  Reagan shrugged. “I was unconscious for most of it. Anyway, his band got fired from the tour, obviously—your lead guitarist tries to kill someone and that’s bound to happen—so lucky for us Steve is close with the guys of Twisted Element. They’ve done an awesome job filling in with no time to prepare a show.”

  “I had no idea that’s why they were on tour with you guys. How did I miss that story? I scoured the Internet for news about the band just days ago. I didn’t read anything about this.” Reagan wasn’t a pathological liar, was she?

  “Sam said it would be better if we kept the controversy under the rug.”

  “Seriously? That guy could have killed you.”

  “But you can put it in the book,” Reagan said. “It won’t come out until next year, right?”

  “Right. Why is that important?”

  “I won’t be under Sam’s ridiculous contract anymore. So I can’t make a stink about this now without getting my ass sued, but you better believe I’m going to shout it from the rafters after that contract expires.”

  “What do the guys think about you being hushed?” Toni cou
ldn’t imagine they’d side with Sam, but she didn’t know Sam or how tightly he ruled the bands he managed.

  “They think it’s better not to expose this incident to the press for my sake. I guess they think Pyre Vamp is in jail for thirty days, so he learned his lesson. When it comes to their image, it’s like Sam has them brainwashed. I don’t know why they listen to him.”

  “Maybe it’s in their contract.”

  Reagan’s eyes widened. “I didn’t even think of that. You’re probably right. You know, Sinners basically manage themselves. They have a manager, but he’s very hands off, not like Sam at all. If I ever form my own band, that’s the kind of manager I want. The mostly absent kind.”

  “But look at Exodus End’s success. You don’t get as big as they do without a good team to back you.”

  “Maybe,” Reagan said. “But at what cost?”

  “Do you think Sam’s control stifles their creativity?”

  “I hope not. I haven’t been with them long enough to know.” Reagan pondered quietly for a moment and then patted Toni’s knee. “We got way off track on your interview question. So yeah, contest. I won. I was so excited I signed a beast of a contract without reading it. But I’m touring with Exodus End, so I’ll grin and bear it.” Reagan grinned so broadly, Toni feared her face might crack in half. “You’re a little too easy to talk to, you know? You’re going to get me in trouble.”

  Toni tucked her hair behind her ears, smiling to herself. She was glad she was easy to talk to. That made her job so much easier. And maybe she was doing it right, even though it still didn’t feel like she knew what the hell she was doing. She decided her toughest undertaking would be sifting through all the information she was collecting for material she could actually use in the book.

  “Are you sure you want me to include the story about Pyre trying to strangle you?”

  “Yeah. And be sure to say the reason he did it was because he lost the Exodus End Guitarist for a Year Contest. To a girl.”

  “What a turd.” Toni pursed her lips to refrain from calling him more derogatory names.

  “I’m done thinking about him for today. Next question,” Reagan prompted.

  Toni glanced toward her legal pad of Susan-prepared questions and shook her head. “So,” she asked, “what’s the most difficult thing about being on the road with a bunch of guys?”

  “Lack of bathroom space,” she said without hesitation.

  “Yeah, that does suck,” Toni agreed with a nod.

  “These guys have been so great about accepting me into their fold, so I really don’t have anything to complain about. And this whole three days on the road followed by two nights in a cushy hotel is fabulous. I was on tour with Sinners for a few weeks, and those guys never take a day off while they’re on tour. I don’t know how they stay sane.”

  “You talk about Sinners a lot,” Toni noted.

  “You know, you should write a book about them when you’re finished with Exodus End.”

  “I’ve thought about it,” Toni admitted. But first she had to prove to herself and the rest of the world that she could do right by Exodus End.

  The bus shuddered as it came to a stop.

  “I think it’s time to eat,” Reagan said. “We didn’t get very far in your interview.”

  Toni laughed and shook her head in disgrace. “Don’t worry about it. Not getting far in my interviews is officially a trend at this point.”

  “Well then, let’s go.” Reagan sprang to her feet and tugged Toni off the sectional. “I need to wash the taste of Logan’s dick-by-proxy out of my mouth.”

  Could she really taste that? How mortifying.

  Toni grabbed her recorder from the table and tucked it into the pocket of her sweater. She never knew when someone was going to say something important.

  Twenty-Two

  Logan sidled up to Butch and waited to be noticed.

  “What’s up?” Butch said, not even looking up from the page attached to his clipboard.

  “I have a few things I need at the hotel tonight.”

  Butch could get them anything they wanted. At any time. He’d never let them down yet. One time Steve had tested the bounds of Butch’s abilities by requesting a gold-plated toilet seat in his hotel room in Beijing. It had been installed before they arrived.

  “Girls?” Butch asked. It was Logan’s typical request.

  “I have a girl,” Logan reminded him.

  Butch glanced toward the back of the bus where Toni was finishing up her turkey sandwich. Without jalapeños, Logan’s dick happily reminded him.

  “Yeah, but I figured you wanted more than one.”

  “If it’s that particular one, one is enough.”

  Butch grinned to himself, looking way too self-satisfied for Logan’s taste.

  “I need sex toys,” Logan blurted.

  Butch didn’t bat an eyelash. “Okay. What kind?”

  “All kinds. All sizes. For both men and women.”

  “Got it,” Butch said.

  “Isn’t weed legal for recreational use in Montana?”

  Butch’s mustache twitched. “Nope.”

  “Damn. Can you get me some anyway?”

  “Logan,” Butch began his long-winded rehearsed speech about rock star vices.

  “Fine,” Logan said. “But when we get to Colorado this weekend . . .” He didn’t want to get busted for illegal drugs and suffer the fury of Sam Baily’s wrath, but if it was legal? Sign him up for some of that shit.

  Butch nodded in defeat. He had a long standing rule about refusing to obtain illegal substances for anyone while they were on tour, but he couldn’t use that as an excuse in this case. “Just don’t bring it on the bus. We don’t want to cross state lines with it.”

  Logan patted him on the back. “Thata boy.”

  “Anything else?”

  Logan sneaked a glance at Toni, and his heart fluttered at the sight of her. “What do women like? As gifts, I mean.”

  “Besides sex toys and weed?”

  Logan laughed and whacked Butch on the back again. “Yeah, besides sex toys and weed.”

  Butch ticked off items on his thick fingers. “Flowers, candy, jewelry, lingerie.”

  “Okay, get her some of that stuff. What else?”

  “It would probably mean more to her if you picked out something specific to her.”

  Logan pursed his lips and twisted them to one side, trying to think of something special. He snapped his fingers when he remembered something uniquely Toni. “Socks,” he said, pointing at Butch to emphasize his own brilliance.

  Butch’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Logan. “Socks?”

  “Yeah, get her a bunch of socks.”

  “Okaaay,” Butch drawled. “And I thought I’d never be asked for anything weirder than a gold-plated toilet seat.”

  “Do you think Toni would like one of those?” Logan teased. “Her ass is precious to me.”

 

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