Cross

by Heather Young-Nichols

  “Cross,” Ransom called out from around the corner. “Where the fuck are you?”

  I heard him but didn’t want to end this kiss with Indie. Sadly, she pulled back. Her face was flushed and I was still holding her off the ground.

  “Cross,” he called again. “Dude, I’ve looked everywhere. Where the fuck are you?”

  My phone buzzed in my pocket and I couldn’t help but laugh. Suddenly, everyone wanted to get a hold of me when I just wanted a few minutes to savor Indie. The smile that appeared on Indie’s face was worth ignoring my best friend.

  “You should probably check that,” she finally said.

  “Check what?”

  “Your phone. I felt it vibrate.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  Releasing her onto the ground was actually the last thing I wanted to do. Once she was back on her own two feet, I kept an arm wrapped around her shoulders and held her to me while I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Soundcheck.”

  “Oh right. Duh.” Indie pulled away but slipped her hand into mine and pulled me reluctantly along. “So, movie tonight and I won’t say anything about my camera for now, but you’ll get Eric off my ass.”

  “I don’t want Drink anywhere near your ass.”

  We turned the corner of the arena, where Indie released my hand. Definitely didn’t like the end of physical contact but neither of our arms were stretchy enough to keep holding on.

  “There you are,” Ransom said before I saw him. “Are you Drink now?”

  “Fuck you. I’m not even late. You’re turning into the band mother.”

  Indie giggled from beside me. Ransom narrowed his eyes on her playfully.

  “You think I like this? You think I like being sent to find you like you’re a lost puppy?” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Here, Cross,” he called out. “Here boy. Come to Daddy.”

  I raised a hand up to stop him. “Gross. Don’t ever say that to me again.”

  An evil grin came over his face as he looked to Indie and said, “Yeah, I’d probably be late too.”

  Indie giggled again and I couldn’t help but notice how much more at ease she appeared than she had when I’d first seen her. She was laughing. The smile was back in her voice and her blue eyes sparkled, but not with tears. At least I’d done my job there.

  “We were talking about Drink and what a fucking asshole he’s become.”

  Ransom groaned. “What’d he do?”

  “I’ll explain later. Let’s go.” I gave Indie’s hand a squeeze and kissed the side of her head before leaving her behind to do soundcheck and threaten to end Drink’s life.

  I vowed to strangle the life out of Drink if he ever touched her in any way again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Indie

  Cross Rhodes sure knew how to kiss. I’d expected him to be fantastic, to be honest. He had the experience to be sure, but the kiss was tenderer than I’d expected. More so than the hard muscles I ran my hands over in those moments. Cross was what I’d expected in some ways and not at all what I’d thought in others.

  At least with Courting Chaos doing soundcheck, I had time alone to see if I could figure out why the hell Eric would break my camera. Yes, he’d said he didn’t want me taking pictures of him and I hadn’t. I didn’t want pictures of Eric Drinkswine unless it was with Courting Chaos and even then, he was there strictly because he was part of the band.

  The first thing my eyes saw when I got on the bus was my poor broken camera. I loved that camera. I had so many lenses for it so I’d have to make sure that whichever one I picked out to replace it could use those lenses. I’d hate to start all over.

  As I booted my computer, my text alert chimed over and over. This was more important.

  Then it dinged six more times and rang. What the hell?

  “What’s up, Bellamy?” I answered.

  “Holy shit, Indie. Have you seen the news?”

  “What news? I’m on the bus.”

  “I bet if you look outside the bus, you’ll notice something a bit… different.”

  Although I was getting really irritated, I moved to the window and pushed the curtains aside.

  Holy. Shit.

  The normal crowd of fans that usually gathered had been overwhelmed with reporters and news cameras. At least a dozen of them. Sure, press of some kind came to each show. A good local story about Kissing Cinder visiting, but this… this right here wasn’t normal press.

  “Bellamy, what’s going on?” I couldn’t look away from the mob outside.

  “Check Twitter or literally any news site, Indie. There’s a girl saying that she had sex with Eric Drinkswine of Courting Chaos.”

  “How does that get this kind of response? There’s probably a thousand girls who could say the same.”

  “Uh, because the girl saying it is fifteen and her parents want to press charges. They’re pissed as hell. She posted on her social media because someone found out her name and she’s getting a hell of a lot of hate from fans.”

  My heart stopped before speeding into overtime. “Fuuuuuck,” I said with a groan and fell back onto the seat.

  “Yeah. She posted admitting she slept with him but it’s her parents who are pushing for charges against him. If you look online you’ll find her posts. It’s pretty viral right now.”

  It seemed my instincts to stay away from that guy had been on point. But so many thoughts ran through my head. This wouldn’t mean good things for Courting Chaos or Kissing Cinder. Not to mention how it would affect the guys outside of how it would affect the band.

  “Bellamy, I have to go,” I said quickly.

  “Indie, I need details.”

  I slammed my computer shut and searched for my keys. “And I will give them to you when I have them, but I need to get inside the venue. Find my dad. Find Cross.”

  “Oh, really… ”

  “Those details later, too. Promise.”

  I pressed the end call button, snatched my keys off the counter, and headed out the door. Then I stopped myself. There was a picture that flashed through my mind. One that I thought had been random as I’d searched for the reason Eric was such a dick to me. I pulled open my computer again so I could search for it.

  The picture was one I’d snapped inadvertently. Didn’t even have Eric in it. It was from the morning when I’d been testing out the settings on the camera. I’d click a couple random pics to see if the lighting setting was accurate.

  Well, I’d caught a couple of girls coming of Eric and Dixon’s bus. They looked young, but one looked really young.

  Shit.

  I hit the print button and waited the thirty seconds it took for my portable photo printer to shoot the picture out, then slammed the laptop screen down. I needed to talk to my dad. And Cross if I could find him. He was the first person I came across once I got inside the venue. I turned a corner and there he was in a heated conversation with Eric. I slid to the left to keep them from seeing me until they were done.

  Their voices quieted and I peeked around the corner. Cross was headed in my direction. When he turned the corner where I was hiding, I reached out and grabbed him.

  “Hey.” He smiled widely. Sad that I was about to wipe that smile off his face. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Let’s go talk somewhere.” I pulled him by the tattooed arm until I found an empty room.

  “Miss me already?” he asked, his hands on my hips as he leaned in like he was going to kiss me.

  “Yes, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  He snapped back to his full height. “What’s wrong?”

  I took two deep breaths, then said, “Outside there are so many news vans, reporters, cameras.”

  “That’s not new.”

  “This many is.” I swallowed the acid in my throat back.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You haven’t heard?” I asked with surprise. I’d figured he did if Bellamy did but then ag
ain, we didn’t keep the same hours as she did.

  “Ransom and I were working on some music all morning.”

  I pulled out my phone and went to one of the news sites to back up what I was about to tell him. Not that I thought he wouldn’t believe me, but I had to see it to know it was real. I couldn’t expect anything else from him. “There’s a girl saying she had sex with Eric.” This didn’t impress him. “She’s fifteen.”

  His face hardened and his jaw clenched. “What?”

  “That’s what she’s saying. Or rather her parents are saying. From what I gather, her parents want him prosecuted.”

  “Fucking hell.”

  “Did you know about this?” I asked, though I probably shouldn’t have. No way would Cross put up with something like this. Underage girls… no way.

  “Fuck no. Of course not. I’m going to kill him.” Rage burned in his eyes and his voice. “My sister is fifteen. That’s fucking disgusting.”

  “This is really bad.” I didn’t need to say that. How bad this whole thing was didn’t need to be pointed out, but even worse… “I have to talk to my dad. Apparently, it’s all over the internet. Someone got her name, she posted something… I haven’t read it yet but Bellamy says fans aren’t being kind.”

  Cross swallowed hard and nodded.

  There went our quiet movie night.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cross

  If I didn’t already hate Drink by this point for the dick he’d become and how he’d treated Indie, this would’ve made me, but now I absolutely despised him. He needed to go immediately. I charged down the hallway to try to find that fucker with Indie attempting to keep up. At some point, I’d lose her since she’d said she was going to talk to her dad.

  “Did you see the text from Lawson?” Ransom asked, sliding up beside me.

  I didn’t slow down, rage was my motivator, so he’d have to try and keep up. “No.”

  “He wants us all in the dressing room. Now. Band meeting.”

  “I’m going to find Drinkswine,” I said keeping my jaw clenched. There was so much angry energy inside of me that I was going to need to keep myself under careful control so I didn’t kill that asshole.

  “I’d bet he’s going to be in the dressing room. We should go there. Why are you so pissed?”

  I glanced at him, unable to believe he hadn’t heard the news. Then again, I hadn’t until Indie had told me about. But also, Ransom was right. Drink would probably be in the dressing room if Lawson had called a band meeting, so I turned in that direction.

  After pacing through the door, I didn’t even take a beat before pushing into Drink’s space and got right into his face.

  “What the fuck did you do?” I should’ve been yelling, but my voice had taken on a deadly even quality that surprised even me. I didn’t trust that I’d have any kind of control over the emotional storm swirling inside of me.

  “Woah,” Dixon said as he tried to step between us. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Ask him,” I said, jamming my finger against Drink’s chest. I didn’t give a shit if he was bigger. I didn’t care that he was supposed to be one of my best friends. I just wanted him gone.

  Drink puffed up his chest and said, “You need to get out of my face before I make you back the fuck off.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  “I see someone’s read the news.” Lawson entered, slamming the door behind him. “Back up, Cross.”

  I didn’t.

  “Right now. Back the fuck up!” Lawson threw something against the wall, which banged its way down to the floor.

  I took a breath to calm down and waited for Lawson to continue.

  “Courting Chaos doesn’t need any more bad press right now,” he finally said through clenched teeth, his arms folded over his chest.

  “I thought attention was a good thing,” Ransom countered from the couch.

  “The right kind of attention. This one isn’t.” Lawson tapped on his tablet, then turned it toward us.

  “Parents of a fifteen-year-old girl report that Eric Drinkswine, bassist for Courting Chaos, engaged in sexual relations with their daughter. Police are investigating the incident and no charges have yet been filed. We put a call into representatives of Courting Chaos; however, as of airtime have not received a response.”

  “What the fuck did you do?” Dixon glared at Drink with his arms crossed over his chest. The air in the room thickened with every single word.

  “I didn’t fuck a fifteen-year-old,” Drink said back while shaking his head. “I’d rather they know what they’re doing.”

  Ransom raised his eyebrows and asked, “Then why is she saying you did?”

  “The fuck I know.”

  “What’re we going to do?” I asked Lawson because I didn’t want to deal with Drink anymore.

  “First, I’ll talk to him alone and we’ll craft a statement. But I’m getting calls for interviews.”

  “No,” Ransom, Dixon, and I all said at the same time.

  “And I don’t want to be a part of his statement,” I said.

  “Why the fuck not?” Drink spat at me.

  “Because the mere fact that I think you could do this means I don’t want to be attached to the fucking things you say.”

  “I’m with Cross,” Ransom added. Dixon nodded in agreement. None of us wanted the stench of Eric Drinkswine attached to us.

  “You’re all a bunch of pussies,” Drink said, then laughed. “You’re afraid of some girl and a few reporters. I’ll do it. I’ll talk to anyone, anywhere.”

  “I think everybody should just take a beat,” Lawson said. “Nobody talk to any reporters for now. You have a show tonight. Let’s focus on that. And, uh, maybe no girls on your buses for a while.”

  “Fuck that,” Drink snapped. “The whole point of this entire shit show is the free access to girls willing to do anything you want them to do.”

  “It’s really not,” I countered.

  “Just because you’re hard for Indie Cinderstone doesn’t mean the rest of us aren’t here for the girls.”

  “You’re fucking this up. You know that, right?” Dixon yelled. “We’ve worked hard to get here and you’re fucking it up.”

  The tension in the room was far too thick and things were going to go south quickly if we didn’t break this up. Drink either felt it too or he got bored because he walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

  “What do we have to do to get that asshole gone?” I asked.

  “Proof. If we had any proof that he did this, the contracts wouldn’t matter.”

  “What about Kissing Cinder?” Ransom asked. “Can’t they kick him off the tour? Isn’t there some clause about making them look bad?”

  “I remember reading that,” Dixon said.

  “They can,” Lawson said while nodding slowly. “But then that’s all of you. I think it might be better to let this whole thing play out.”

  “Yeah, but then we’re stuck hoping he slept with a teenager,” Dixon said.

  “Let’s not think about it that way,” I said back. Because that was disgusting. “Indie’s the one who told me about this and she was on her way to talk to her dad.”

  “To tattle?”

  “It’s all over the news. I’d guess Vince already knows.”

  “So, Lawson,” Ransom said. “How is that search for a new bassist going?”

  “I’ve got a short list.” Lawson scratched his chin. “But I think it’s time that got even shorter.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Indie

  After talking to Cross, I decided to wait to go see Dad. He was on stage doing the soundcheck right then anyway and I wasn’t going to make him divide his attention between his job and me. Talking to him could wait.

  I went back to my bus to look up the girl everyone was talking about and scour through all my photos, both the ones I’d printed and the ones I hadn’t, and turned on the news. While I didn’t remember see
ing any incriminating photos of Eric, something must’ve been there—otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so adamant about me not taking his picture. I never took his picture.

  One picture after another and I found nothing. But then I remembered seeing something.

  Fingering through the photos again, I found the one I was looking for. The picture was of Cross talking to Ransom. But it wasn’t them I was interested in. There were people in the background and I’d bet cold hard cash that the guy was Eric. I couldn’t be sure.

  I flipped open my laptop and scrolled through the photos. I got to the one I wanted, clicked, and waited for it to load. Once it did, I used my photo editing program to zoom in and clean up the resolution on the corner of that photo. Then I lightened it.

  There I found Eric Drinkswine and the girl accusing him. Or at least the one whose picture had started circulating on the internet. Her parents had done an interview on one of the news channels and Sasha McEnery’s post was breaking the internet.

  In the picture, Eric was leaning in, either whispering in her ear or kissing her neck because she had her head thrown back and a little satisfied smile on her face. I immediately hit print.

  Then my phone chimed.

  Where are you? Dad’s text read.

  Bus. Heading into the venue, I typed back to him.

  Stay away from Drinkswine. I’ll find you later.

  I always try to.

  That meant he’d heard the news and I started to second-guess whether I really wanted to go inside. But I had to. I wanted to know what Cross and the others were going to do about their bandmate.

  I stomped my way into the venue in search of Cross—hopefully, minus the rest of the guys. It took some searching, but I found him coming out of the dressing room.

  “So?” I asked much, much louder than I probably should have.

  “Come here.” He wrapped his hand around my upper arm and pulled me back into the dressing room.

  We were alone. At least for now.

  “Did you ask him?” I asked. “What’d he say? What’d the others say? What are you guys going to do?”