Treyton (A Savage Beasts Rock Star Romance Book 2)

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Treyton (A Savage Beasts Rock Star Romance Book 2) Page 15

by J. Nathan


  “Brielle,” my father’s stony voice echoed through the lobby.

  A cold chill shot up my spine, and I immediately dropped Trey’s hand. I turned to find my father, in his black suit and gray tie, approaching.

  He stopped in front of us, making no attempt to hug me.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  His eyes jumped between Trey and me. Then his narrowed eyes took in my outfit.

  Shit.

  “You said you were needed out here. Is this what you’ve been doing? Running around Madrid looking like a slut?”

  I gasped, more embarrassed that he’d said it in front of Trey than that he’d actually said it. He never held back when it came to his thoughts—especially the hurtful ones.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Patrick,” Trey said, his jaw clenched. “Brielle is gorgeous. If she chose to dress like one of our fans tonight for fun, she doesn’t deserve to be called names. Especially by her father. I think you owe her an apology.”

  My father scoffed. “Excuse me…” he tipped his head, as if he didn’t know Trey’s name.

  “It’s Treyton,” Trey said, disdain dripping from his tone.

  “Well, excuse me Treyton for calling it like I see it.”

  Ticking began in Trey’s jaw. I quickly grasped his arm, letting him know I was okay. I looked to my father. “Why are you here?”

  “You haven’t returned my calls.”

  “The only thing that could warrant you flying overseas to see me would be the death of my mother. But that already happened and it took you two days to get to me.”

  His face grew colder. “That was uncalled for.”

  “So was this trip. But we both know the real reason you’re here has nothing to do with me. What kind of publicist would I be if I wasn’t up on current events? Martina Suarez is getting married tomorrow. Anyone who’s anyone will be at the A-lister’s wedding.”

  He grabbed hold of my arm.

  “Whoa,” Trey said, stepping forward. “Let go of her.”

  My father scoffed as he released his grip on me. “So, not only are you dressing like a whore, you’re dating your client.”

  “It’s none of your business,” I said.

  A devious grin slipped across his face. “Oh, on the contrary. It most definitely is.”

  “You haven’t cared who I’ve dated since…ever.”

  “Yes, but now you’re breaking the non-fraternization policy you signed when I hired you.”

  My face fell slack. “I don’t remember signing that.”

  “Then I’ll assume you don’t know the consequence.”

  Another cold shiver raced up my spine.

  He smiled in a way that only a heartless bastard could smile. “You’re fired.”

  The floor seemingly dropped from beneath my feet.

  “Or…” he continued, eyeing Trey. “End the relationship with your client.”

  “That’s not fair,” I said.

  “You’re right,” my father continued. “We can’t leave Savage Beasts without a publicist. Arthur can take over for you—just like he did after you took it upon yourself to terminate the contract with Flow Houz.” The sugary sweet way he added that told me his anger had been brewing.

  “We want Brie,” Trey said.

  “I’m sorry,” my father said. “Brielle signed a contract then broke it. What kind of business would I be running if I showed nepotism and allowed my daughter to break a rule? She needs to be held to the same standard as all of my other employees.”

  “She’s not your other employees,” Trey said. “She’s your daughter.”

  My mind spun and a high-pitched ringing pierced my ears. Was my father really doing this? Was he really giving an ultimatum—a no win ultimatum—to his own daughter? After all I’d been through trying to prove myself to him, was he really going to force my hand to either break up with Trey or dispose of me like yesterday’s trash?

  Trey glared at my father as he grabbed hold of my hand. “I’ll be talking to Z about this.”

  “Every person is replaceable, Son,” my father said.

  “I’m not your son”

  My father’s eyes took him in. “Clearly.” He turned away from us and walked away.

  My legs trembled beneath me. My knees threatened to give out. Had I really signed that policy? Was he really making me choose?

  “We won’t let this happen,” Trey promised as he pulled me into his side.

  “I don’t think it’s up to you,” I said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Treyton

  I left Brie in her room after she’d finally fallen asleep. I pounded on BJ’s door. He pulled it open, and I stormed in.

  “Problem?” he asked.

  I leaned against the dresser, crossing my arms to stop my hands from shaking. “Brielle just got an ultimatum.”

  “What?”

  “Her asshole father showed up here and gave her a choice. Either resign since she broke a non-fraternization policy by dating me or break it off with me.”

  BJ’s face scrunched.

  “I need you to fix it.”

  “Fix it?” he asked. “If she broke her contract with him, it has nothing to do with us.”

  “She works for us. And she loves working for us. I can’t make her quit for me.”

  “Our contract is with Artists Limited, not Brielle,” he explained.

  “Then fire them.”

  “You want to fire Brielle?”

  I shook my head, frustration emanating from my body. “No. Fire the company and we’ll hire her on her own. I don’t want her working for that asshole anyway.”

  “Treyton, we have a contract with the firm. It’s legally binding. If they’ve done nothing to warrant us rescinding the contract, we could owe them a lot of money.”

  “Can we get out of the contract legally?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “I need you to look into it.”

  A smile spread across BJ’s face.

  “How can you smile right now?”

  “It’s nice to see you worried about her. She’s spent a lot of time cleaning up after you and making sure you were okay. It’s nice to see you returning the favor. I think it’s a good thing. You and her.”

  “Dude.” I pushed off the dresser. “I need you to help make this right.”

  He saluted me. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Brielle

  I awoke alone in the pitch-black hotel room, hoping it had all been a terrible dream. But the nausea in my stomach and the ache in my temples told me it hadn’t been. Trey wasn’t there. I assumed he’d taken off for the piano once I’d fallen asleep. I slipped out of bed, still wearing the outfit I’d been so excited to wear for him. Now I felt like the whore my father saw me as.

  How did he still have so much power over me? Why hadn’t I severed ties with him a long time ago? Deep down I knew why. This wasn’t about the firm. This wasn’t about me taking over one day. This was because he was my last connection to my mother. Once he was out of my life, I had no family left.

  I grabbed my keycard, hurried out of the room, and made my way to the elevator. Instead of pressing the button for the lobby, I jammed my finger into the button for the top floor. I knew that’s where he’d be. He never stayed anywhere but the penthouse like the big shot he thought he was. Once the elevator came to a stop and the doors spread apart, I trudged down the hallway and knocked on the door. It took a couple minutes, but footsteps shuffled behind it. He paused, and I assumed he was checking the peephole first. His scoff carried through the door.

  My stomach churned, but I held my composure, standing with my spine straight and my chin up—the way I’d seen him do it for my entire life.

  The door opened and my father stood before me in a robe, his eyes assessing my outfit with disdain once again. “I see you dressed up for me.”

  Keeping my composure, I brushed by him, moving into the dining room. “I need you to sit down.”

  “
I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders.”

  “We need to talk.” I pulled out a chair at the dining room table and sat, hoping he’d follow my lead.

  He took his time circling the table before actually sitting in the chair across from me.

  “I want that non-fraternization policy retracted.”

  He cocked his head. “Come again?”

  “You heard me.” I stared him right in the eyes. “I’m your daughter. I have a job I love and someone I care about who cares about me and treats me the way I should be treated. Are you really going to take one of those away from me?”

  “I’m not taking anything away from you.”

  A flicker of hope sparked inside me.

  “You signed the contract,” he continued. “Now, you have the choice.”

  I wanted to jump across the table and hurt him the way he was hurting me, but I drew a deep breath and finally asked the question I’d needed to ask my whole life. “Have you ever loved anyone?”

  His face scrunched. “What kind of question is that?”

  “Have you ever felt the kind of love for another person that you feel for yourself?”

  “This is not the way to go about keeping your job,” he assured me.

  “I’m being serious. I never understood how you could leave Mom and me for a job. How you could stay married, but not want anything to do with either of us because your job and those celebrities were so much more important to you. The only possible thing I can come up with is that you’re incapable of love.”

  He said nothing, staring at me with his lips in a tight line.

  “I’m falling in love with Treyton. He is so much more than anyone knows.” My father’s silence, and my desperation to keep Trey and my job, urged me on. “He was born addicted to drugs. He was born to someone who couldn’t love him either. But then he found someone who could. The woman who rocked babies in the nursery. Holding him in her arms was all it took for her to fall in love with him. She just knew it was meant to be.” My eyes lowered to my lap. “He lost her at ten, just like I lost Mom.” I paused for a long moment before looking back up. I hoped to see something in my father’s face, but it remained unaffected by anything I’d said. “Treyton and I are so different, but it’s the small similarities that bond us. We care about each other which makes us the lucky ones. I want to believe you wouldn’t wish unhappiness on me.”

  “I don’t wish unhappiness on you, Brielle,” he finally said. “But in our world, we sign contracts. So now you have a choice. Pick the option that will make you happy. I’m not standing in your way.”

  My shoulders wilted. Of course he was standing in my way. And nothing I said or did would change his mind. That’s why he was so good at his job. He’d hear anyone out and let them feel heard, then he’d crush them and their dreams.

  * * *

  “Jesus Christ.” Trey rushed to meet me as I stepped into the hotel room. “I’ve been calling you like a crazy person. Where’d you go?”

  I walked over to the bed and sat.

  “Oh fuck. Did you…?”

  I nodded regrettably. “I needed to see if he would hear me out. I had to try.”

  “And?”

  I shook my head.

  Trey sat down beside me. The dipping of the bed under his weight pulled me closer to him, and he wrapped his arm around me. “We’ll get this figured out.”

  “Will we? Because the way I see it, I have two options.”

  A long silence passed between us, and I couldn’t help wondering what Trey was thinking. Was he realizing dating me was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth?

  “He’s even more of an asshole than I imagined,” he finally said.

  “Yup.”

  “Why don’t you just tell him we broke it off? Lie to him.”

  “I’m no good at lying. I’d be waiting for him to find out. You know, like waiting for that other shoe to inevitably drop.” I dragged in a deep breath. “Can we just sleep? I need your arms around me. And I need to not think about this for the rest of the night.”

  Trey clearly wanted to get this figured out, but instead of pushing me, he stood us up and pulled down the comforter. I climbed in first and he followed, pulling the comforter over us as he nestled in behind me and wrapped me up in his arms like I’d asked. He buried his nose in my hair and whispered, “Sleep, Brie. We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

  “Promise?” I asked.

  “Promise,” he lied, like he knew I needed him to.

  And I loved him for it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Treyton

  Someone knocking on the door pulled me from a restless sleep a little after six in the morning. Brie stirred in my arms where she’d slept just as restlessly all night. I slipped my arms out from around her and rolled off the bed, hurrying to the door so whoever it was didn’t wake her.

  I pulled it open to find Z standing there glaring at me.

  “What’s wrong?” I stepped into the hallway and stuck my foot in between the door and door jamb to keep it from locking me out.

  “Have you checked your phone?” Z asked.

  “No. You just woke me up.”

  “Who’d you talk to?” Z asked.

  I scrubbed my hands up and down my face to wake myself up. “Talk to about what?”

  He cocked his head.

  “Dude, you’re not making any sense. What’s going on?”

  “Did you tell Brielle about your shit?”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, knowing exactly what he meant by those words.

  “It’s out there,” he explained. “People know about your past.”

  It was as if I’d just been doused with a cold bucket of water. I was fairly certain any color had drained from my face. Z and I had a pact. Neither of us talked about the way we grew up or met. No one knew about the shitty lives we’d been born into. So, if they knew my shit, they knew his. God dammit. “I only told Brie.”

  Disappointment shone heavy in Z’s eyes. “Dude?”

  “She wouldn’t put it out there.”

  Z kept staring, and I felt myself needing to plead my case. Needing to convince him she was innocent.

  “She wanted the band to start a charity or make a donation to the hospital where I was born,” I explained. “I told her it needed to be done anonymously and she agreed.”

  He stared at me, and the longer he stared, the more I questioned my decision to open up to her.

  “She knew not to bring my name into it,” I explained.

  “She’s proven she can’t be trusted in the past,” Z argued.

  And while I wanted to sucker-punch my best friend for saying that, I also saw the truth in it. She had proven she’d take things into her own hands when she thought it was important for the band. If she brought up my past, she’d be putting the band at the top of news feeds. It was her job to keep us relevant. Because relevancy in the PR world was more important than anything.

  Even me.

  Dammit.

  I tunneled my fingers through my hair, hating myself in that moment. Z never wanted the word out there that his parents were drug addicts and dealers who abandoned him. And he had every right to want to keep his business private. What he hadn’t banked on was me opening my damn mouth.

  Fuuuuuuuck.

  “Has your name been mentioned?” I asked, terrified to hear his answer.

  He shook his head. “Not yet. Just waiting for it, though.”

  If our past got out there, there was no way to erase it. It would be what people thought of when they saw us. Maybe they wouldn’t say it, but they’d be thinking it. The crack baby and the kid who was abandoned by drug dealers. It would always be there, like the black cloud we both worked so hard to escape. “I fucked up.”

  Z said nothing. He was pissed I’d betrayed his trust. I could see it in the way his eyes avoided mine.

  “I thought Brie was different.”

  He scoffed. “Really?
Because I’ve heard leopards don’t change their spots.”

  I dropped my head back against the door. “I should’ve known better.”

  Z said nothing. He wasn’t the type to console someone when they were in the wrong.

  And I was in the wrong for opening my mouth. But how could I have known she’d betray me? “I’m sorry I trusted her.”

  The door behind me yanked open causing me to shuffle forward.

  Brie stepped into the hallway in jeans and a T-shirt pulling her luggage. She looked me dead in the eyes. “You definitely shouldn’t have trusted her. But don’t worry. She’s leaving.” She walked down the hallway to the stairwell, not waiting for the elevator.

  I didn’t try to stop her. I was way to pissed to even consider it. She’d betrayed me. Not the other way around. I’d been a fool to let her in. A fool who thought maybe I’d found someone I could invest time in. Someone who’d be a staple in my life. She’d known me for five years and still took a chance on me, with all my flaws and epic screw-ups. Now I realized it was me who’d taken the chance on her. And it clearly bit me in the ass.

  There was no bouncing back from something like this.

  She’d betrayed me and my best friend for the last time.

  We were done.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Brielle

  “We’re beginning our final descent and should be arriving at LAX in just a few minutes,” the pilot’s voice informed us over the cabin intercom. “Be sure to check that all your belongings are packed up. It’s been a pleasure flying with you.”

  A pleasure? Nothing about the fifteen hour flight had been a pleasure. Not the perpetual pit in the bottom of my stomach. Not the crying kid two rows back. Not the thoughts whirling through my head making sleep impossible. Not the uncertainty I now had about what came next for me. Nothing.

  I’d needed time to think on the flight. Time to wrap my head around what happened back in Madrid. Time to put myself in Trey’s shoes. But I still came up short.

 

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