by Emma Lea
“Ready?” Marci asked and Stevie nodded.
They were quiet in the car as they were driven to the hospital. A small contingent of press were waiting for them at the doors to the hospital, but they kept their heads down and didn’t answer any of the questions thrown at them. Thankfully Marci had organized a couple of security guys to be there to help them run the gauntlet. No one said anything until they were safely within the doors of the hospital.
“The doctors have said she can be discharged today,” Marci told them as they walked quickly through the halls to Nadine’s private room. “They recommend that she not perform for a couple of days at least. She needs rest and fluids and not to exert herself too much.”
“So, what about the concert tomorrow night?”
“Lily has offered to lend you her violinist if you still want to go on. We are telling the media that it was a combination of food poisoning and exhaustion.”
“Nobody is going to believe that shit,” Jace said, roughly.
“Maybe not,” Marci said with an unconcerned shrug. “The media will say whatever the hell they like, but that’s the company line.”
Stevie kept her mouth shut. There were so many things she wanted to say, but now wasn’t the time or the place. She wanted to check on Nadine first, make sure for herself that she was really okay. Then she would have the discussion that was burning a hole in her gut.
“So, what do I tell Lily? If you guys want to take a break, she needs to know so they can organize another opener.”
The three band members looked at each other. “Let’s talk to Nadine first,” Stevie said. “We should probably ask what she wants to do.”
The others nodded and they turned as one to enter the room.
“I’ll let you guys have some time alone with her. I’ll just be down the hall if you need me,” Marci said as she backed out of the room and closed the door.
Nadine looked up at them from where she lay in the bed. She looked scared, like she was bracing herself for attack.
“Oh god, Nadine,” Vanessa cried, rushing to her, “I was so scared.” Vanessa hugged Nadine tightly and Nadine closed her eyes and sniffed.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I was stupid and I didn’t think—”
Jace went to the other side of the bed and drew her out of Vanessa arms and into his own.
“Shh,” he said, “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he mumbled over and over.
Stevie felt like she was intruding on a private moment between the siblings, but she held her ground. If they were going to make it as a band then she needed to be included in this kind of stuff. She needed to be part of their close-knit family too.
“How’re you feeling?” Stevie asked, her throat tight with emotion.
Jace pulled back but didn’t let go of Nadine’s hand. Vanessa sat on the edge of the bed holding her other hand. Nadine’s eyelashes were starred with tears.
“Better,” she said. “But with a hell of a hangover.” She didn’t try to make a joke which was an odd occurrence for Nadine. She liked to use her wit to deflect unwanted scrutiny.
Stevie huffed out a breath and pulled up a chair. The others didn’t seem to want to broach talk about the elephant in the room.
“Why?” Stevie said. “Why did you take something from someone you didn’t know? Why were you taking drugs at all?”
“Stevie—”
“No, Jace. It’s okay.” Nadine looked up at her. “I know I’ve been a shit over the last few weeks but,” she looked around at Vanessa and Jace and then back at Stevie. “I feel like the fuck-up of the group and the pressure to be perfect like the rest of you got to me.”
“So your solution was to fuck up even more?” Jace growled.
“No. Not consciously anyway. I just wanted to escape for a while. This is supposed to be fun - the fame, the concerts, the tours - I thought it would be more fun. But it’s fucking hard work and you were making it so much harder with your perfectionist shit, Jace. Playing on stage should have been a rush, but you were structuring the life out of it.”
Jace sat back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. “I was scared,” Jace admitted. “I was scared that if we fucked up on stage that we’d get booted from the tour. I just wanted everything to be exactly how it should be.”
“But that’s not why people come to see us play,” Stevie said quietly. They’d had this argument before.
“I know,” he said, sitting forward again and hanging his head.
“So what are we going to do?” Vanessa asked. She looked at Nadine. “Marci told us that Lily said we can use her violinist to perform tomorrow night because the doctors don’t want you exerting yourself.”
“Or we take a break until you’re better,” Jace said, “and Lily gets another opening act.”
Nadine looked at each of them. “You’re leaving the decision up to me?”
“Yes,” Stevie said. “We don’t want to perform without you if it will upset you. We’re a team and this decision needs to be made as a team.”
Nadine blew out a rough breath. “I don’t want to perform tomorrow night, but I want you guys to. Use Lily’s violinist. He’s good, we’ve jammed a couple of times. But I think we need to take a break from the tour for a bit. I don’t think I’m ready to go back on stage yet.”
“Okay,” Jace said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll let Marci know so she can let Lily know.”
Stevie waited until he’d put his phone away and took a deep breath. “I have something to discuss with you guys.”
Three pairs of eyes turned to her.
“I’ve been offered a solo recording contract,” she said slowly.
The Court siblings seemed to gasp as one and Stevie hurried on.
“I said no,” she told them, “but then with everything that’s been happening lately, I reconsidered it.”
Jace scowled and sat back folding his arms across his chest. Vanessa’s eyes filled with tears and Nadine just looked resigned.
“Here’s the thing,” Stevie said, standing up so she could pace. “I love you guys, but the last few weeks have been hell. All the arguing and the partying and animosity - it’s been seriously messing with my head. We live together and work together in Nashville without any of that shit, but out here on the road, the band that we had created morphed into something different. And I began to resent it. I think we are an amazing band, but not when we are at each other’s throats all the time. I just want to write music and perform it without all the drama. I want it to be like it was before we got on that tour bus.” She looked at Nadine. “I’m with Nadine in this. Being on stage in front of a stadium full of screaming fans should have been fun. That rush you get when you perform and the crowd is with you, like you’re one big organism breathing together, that’s what I want to feel when I get on that stage. I don’t want to be worrying about all the little details and making sure I’m on the right mark so the light will hit me at the right time. I want to go out on stage and let the magic take over. Do you get what I mean?”
Jace looked guilty as they all nodded.
“And then I want to come back to the bus and know that my band members are safe and happy and having fun. Not arguing and yelling at each other and then storming off in a huff to get high.” It was Nadine’s turn to look guilty. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying I’m perfect. I know the drama with Nate and Carson is distracting as hell, but what I am saying is that we all need to try better. If we are going to make it as a band and not flame out at the first hurdle, then we all need to be committed. So that’s what I’m asking. Are we all committed to Court’n Jacks or do we call it quits while we’re still friends?”
Chapter Eighteen
“What the hell, Nate?”
Nate looked up from the amber dregs in his glass and tried to bring Mabel into focus. Maybe he'd had more to drink than he thought.
“Hey,” he said before dropping his head once again.
“You saw the news then?”
<
br /> “What news?” Of course he knew what news but he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. It had been on every god-dammed news channel and he hadn't been able to escape it, which was why he had come here. To get drunk and to forget.
Mabel slid into the chair opposite him.
“You want her, you don't want her, now you want her again? I can't keep up and if I can't keep up, how do you think she feels? You need to make up your fucking mind.”
“Of course I want her,” Nate replied, “it feels like I've always wanted her.”
“So get off your lazy fucking ass and go and get her!”
“I can't.”
“Why the hell not? What's stopping you?”
“I'm no good for her, Mabel,” Nate said, “I'm like the bad penny that keeps turning up and ruining everything. She's better off without me.”
“What the hell does that even mean?”
“I'm bad luck.”
Mabel snorted and shook her head. “I knew you were an arrogant asshole but I didn't pick you to be this narcissistic.”
“Speak in smaller words,” Nate slurred, “I'm drunk.”
“How's this for smaller words. Nate. You. Are. Not. God. You think you are all that? You think you have the power to change the course of someone's life just with your presence? Do you honestly expect me to believe that you think that the fate of Stevie’s career rests in whether or not you are in her life? That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. The fact is, you're scared. You are a chicken shit little yellow-bellied coward who is too afraid to lay it all on the line.”
“Hang on a—”
“No, you hang on. You have finally reclaimed your career and you are poised on the very precipice of success - more success than you knew before, better success because it's real and not some manufactured crap that Rocksteady was putting out. You are afraid that you can't have both. You are afraid that you will never live up to the expectations of the woman you love. You know what? Tough shit. If you are not man enough to put it out there and risk everything for that woman, then you really don't deserve her. If you love her, show her. If you’re not prepared to do that then you don't get to wallow. Man up or shut the fuck up.”
Mabel stormed out of the bar and left Nate with his drink and his regrets. That morning when he had spoken to Stevie, he’d been hopeful that they might be able to work something out. But after seeing her leave Carson’s residence in what was clearly a walk of shame, he turned to the bottle for comfort. The reports that they were engaged had only added fuel to his desire to get so drunk that he couldn’t feel the pain in his heart any longer.
He thought walking away from Stevie had been the right thing to do. He thought that letting her go was the price he had to pay to get his own career back. The fact was that without her, everything seemed… inconsequential. He’d come to the realization that he wanted Stevie more than he wanted his career. He wanted her in his life. He wanted to be in hers. He wanted to share her successes and hold her while she overcame her failures. He wanted to be the one she turned to for comfort. He wanted to be the one she shared her triumphs with.
Nate pushed the glass away. What was he doing here? Stevie needed him. She was going through a crisis with her band and here he was wallowing in his self-pity because she’d spent the night with Carson. He should have been there for her, he should have been the one to help her through this crisis. Mabel was right. He was being a narcissistic asshole thinking that he had any control over the fate of Stevie’s career. Shit happened, whether he was there to cause it or not. At least if he’d been there Stevie would have had someone to turn to. Someone other than Carson Giles.
Nate didn’t doubt that Carson had feelings for Stevie, any man would fall in love with her when they got to know her. But he was all wrong for her. He would stifle her with his senatorial duties and requirements for a politically savvy wife. Stevie was a songbird and she needed to fly and to sing and Nate could be there right alongside her. He understood what made her tick. He knew the call of the music and he knew that together they could conquer the world.
He pulled out his cell and punched a number. “Wade,” he said, “I need to get to Stevie.”
He slid the phone back in his pocket and blinked his eyes. It was like waking up from a particularly intense dream. Was this the lightning bolt moment that Oprah was always going on about?
“Coffee,” he said to the bartender. “And make it strong.”
“What is going on Carson?” Stevie looked up at him, her irritation an unpleasant sick feeling in her stomach.
“What do you mean?”
She huffed as she crossed her arms. “I mean the ‘unnamed source’ who ‘leaked’ news of an engagement between you and me.”
He grinned easily. “Oh, that. That’s nothing. You know how these things go.”
“Fix it,” she said. “You need to fix it. You need to tell them it's not true.”
He stepped closer and rested his hands on her hips. “But it could be true.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Carson. We've been down this road before. You are a good friend and I love you but I am not in love with you.”
“But we were so good together, Stevie. Remember how good it was?”
“It was good,” she said, resting her head on his chest, “but I need more than good. I want passion and sparks.” She looked up at him sadly. “We don't have sparks.”
“That's because you haven't let me touch you in forever. I can give you sparks if you just let me in.”
His fingers tightened on her waist and he pulled her up against him. His head dipped and his lips found hers in a hard kiss. Stevie moved her hands to press against his chest intending to force him away.
“I see I'm interrupting something.”
Stevie pushed Carson away and stared at Nate. He looked like hell, like he hadn't slept for a week and had been on a blinding bender.
“Nate,” she whispered.
He didn't answer. He gave her a hurt and resigned look before turning away and walking out the door.
Carson hadn't let go of her and she knew what it must look like. She pushed away from Carson and glared at him.
“So you're still in love with him,” Carson said with a sardonic tilt to his mouth.
“No,” she lied defensively and then shook her head. “Yes, I am but that has nothing to do with us. Me not wanting to marry you has nothing to do with me being in love with someone else and everything to do with the relationship we have… the relationship we had. You're a dear friend to me, but we can never be anything more and we both know that. You keep turning to me for the same reason I’ve been turning to you. It’s familiar and easy but that’s no way to spend the rest of our lives. Don’t you want more? Don’t you want that breath-stealing love that engages your body, mind, and spirit?” She stepped closer to him and rested a hand on his chest. “There is someone out there for you, someone who can be the wife you need and love you like you deserve. You and I both know that's not me.”
“Stevie,” he sighed, “I really want it to be you.”
She gave him a soft smile. “It would be a complete disaster and we would end up hating each other. I don't want that.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “No. I don't want that either.”
He kissed her brow and stepped away from her giving her a bittersweet smile.
“I'll see you around,” he said before slipping out the door.
Stevie tilted her head back to the ceiling and took a deep breath. The last thing she needed right now before going on stage was romantic drama. There had been more than enough drama in her life and the life of the band to last them a lifetime. Why was Nate even here? She’d told him not to come.
A random thought hit her and she opened her eyes slowly. Was Nate their replacement? Had Derek called Nate to open for Lily for the rest of the tour while Court’n Jacks sorted their shit out? Wouldn’t that be just the fucking icing on the cake. Nate swooping in to steal her d
ream once again. That had to be why he was here. He’d made it very clear to her that there was nothing romantic between them any longer, despite his reaching out to her via text message.
And what the hell was she supposed to do about Carson? She should never have leaned on him the night before. She should never have gone home with him or spent the night. They hadn’t slept together, but it had blurred the lines. Getting caught by the press leaving his house was a big mistake and the fact that someone in his office had leaked that they were engaged was worse. Giving Carson an inch was like inviting him to take a mile. The guy knew what he wanted and Stevie was a fool to think he had given up so easily. Now she had a fake engagement to deal with on top of a band on the verge of breaking up. Not to mention that Nate was here to steal her spotlight…again.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” Carson said coming up behind Nate. “Hemlock is it?”
“Smooth,” Nate said, lifting his glass. “Ice water.”
Carson nodded to the bar tender before taking the stool beside Nate at the bar.
“What are you doing here, Giles?” Nate asked before sipping his water.
“I could ask you the same question,” Carson said.
“I came here for Stevie but it appears I was too late.”
The bar tender slid a glass of ice water in front of Carson and he lifted it to drink. He swallowed slowly before turning to Nate.
“You know, you really are an asshat,” Carson said with a shake of his head. “Stevie has been in love with you since high school.”
“It looks a lot like she’s in love with you now,” Nate said.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I have to. Nate, you are a fucking moron. Stevie is still in love with you. She wasn’t kissing me, I was kissing her. She was pushing me away.”
Nate didn’t know whether to believe Carson or not. There had been so much animosity between them since high school and their fight over a cheerleader that he couldn’t even remember the name of now. But what did Carson have to gain by being here and telling him that Stevie was in love with him? Why wasn’t he rubbing salt into Nate’s wounds and telling him just how much the happy couple loved each other? Why wasn’t he warning Nate off, telling him to stay away from Stevie or some such shit?