by Reid, B. B.
Tilting her head to the side, Holly’s eyes brightened. “Well, you’re here,” she pointed out with a wave of her hands. “Surely, some part of you must have thought you had a chance.”
“Braxton was headhunted,” Houston interrupted before Braxton, who was tongue-tied and unsure of how much to reveal, could think of what to say. “She didn’t find us. We found her.”
“Incredible. So the question must be asked. Why her?” Holly blurted.
I felt Braxton tense next to me.
“Excuse me?” Loren asked, tuning in for what was likely the first time. Even to the most forgiving ears, Holly’s question had sounded condescending.
“I-I just mean with all the talent out there, most of whom are either recognized or acclaimed, there must have been a special reason you went with someone unknown.”
“I believe you just answered your own question, Hillary.”
“Holly.”
Loren blinked at her, not bothering to acknowledge his mistake. What he did confess was something that made Braxton stop breathing. “She’s special.”
I wasn’t sure if his statement or the missing sarcasm surprised me the most.
“How so?” Holly inquired.
Squinting, I turned her question over in my mind before deciding for her sake that she was simply curious and not challenging Loren’s claim.
“To start, it would be pretty hard to find someone willing to learn after being told a thousand times how perfect they are,” Loren answered without missing a beat. “Baby fawn is a sponge. She soaks up everything we give, and the wetter we get her, the more she takes.”
I didn’t have to see the smirk on Loren’s face to know he’d meant that in more ways than one. Luckily, Holly was too busy scribbling down everything we threw at her to analyze our words.
“She defies,” I blurted, causing them all to look my way. I only had eyes for Braxton as she stared up at me, her brown eyes bright with emotion. I noticed her nostrils flaring, not in anger but in response to something teasing her senses. Her brows dipped a moment later as if she didn’t recognize whatever it was. “She defies not just us but anyone willing to suppress her. Everything Bound has, we’ve all contributed—our lyrics, our melodies, every single bit. We chose Braxton because she’s willing to look beyond what’s been put in front of her.” Braxton smiled softly at me, and I found myself grinning back, forgetting where we were. It was that easy to get lost in her.
“Anyone can mimic art that already exists,” Houston spoke, stealing her focus from me. I made my fingers ball when I nearly reached out to grip her chin and force her attention back on me. I’d never been this greedy. “That’s not a testament of talent. She’s unknown, yes, but she’s far from unworthy.”
A rare blush warmed Braxton’s cheeks, and then she quickly looked down so that we wouldn’t have a chance to notice.
Too late.
A month after the interview, and I was once again questioning my choices. It all began last weekend when I told Houston I wouldn’t be available to rehearse. It had been harder to convince Houston than my actual boss to give me the weekend off, and only when I finally confessed the reason I couldn’t be at his beck and call.
I’d driven to Faithful and willingly suffered through Mass so that my family wouldn’t find out from someone else that I was going on tour with Bound.
I might as well have announced that I’d joined a cult.
As prepared as I thought I was for their disapproval, my parents had topped anything I could have imagined.
There are five stages of grief, and Amelia and David Fawn had only made it to stage two. They’d briefly reached the third when they offered to pay for a lawyer after I brought up the contract I’d already signed. Then they backtracked from bargaining and remained steadfast at anger. The worse part had been the split moment when I was tempted to take them up on their offer.
You can still back out. There’s hope. There’s a chance.
Except, the hope I felt burning in my gut wasn’t for breaking free of Bound.
It was liberating Bound.
I hated Oni for stirring that need in my gut and making it my burden to bear. I’ve been inside the lions’ den. I’ve seen the carnage that no one on the outside could see. Something was ripping them apart at the very seam of who they are—Houston, Loren, Jericho—each different in their own way but incomplete when apart.
I thought back to the words I knew would be the last I’d speak to my family for a long time, possibly forever.
“I don’t want out. I’m going to see this through.”
“See what through?” my father demanded. “This is unacceptable, Braxton.”
“Bound,” I whispered. “I’m going to see them through.”
Fast forward to Monday, and I was left wondering if I’d imagined the interview. Houston, Loren, and Jericho hadn’t just convinced that reporter they respected and needed me—they’d convinced me too. Had it been all for show?
“You’re playing like you’re trying to piss me off today, Fawn, and I’m not in the mood,” Houston snapped.
Two hours ago, our interview had appeared online, announcing me as Bound’s new guitarist and turning Houston into a bear with a thorn in its paw. Bound had chosen a nobody to replace their beloved Calvin and no one, despite their pretty words, was thrilled about it.
“Do it again,” grumpy bear ordered.
Despite my obvious fatigue and despondency, I’d shown up for rehearsal bright and early as expected. I wouldn’t have put it past Houston to break into my apartment and drag me out of bed if I hadn’t. I would have preferred it—staying in bed, not being pulled out of it.
“Back off, Morrow. I don’t need your shit today.”
The air became still as soon as I stopped speaking. The world had come to a screeching halt just to witness my punishment for talking back.
“Say that again?”
Behind me, I heard a heavy sigh.
It could have been Loren or Jericho who’d made the sound. Neither were unused to our daily squabbles.
Squaring my shoulders, I looked Houston in the eye. There was no use backing down now. “Allow me to elaborate,” I offered. Flipping him off would have been subtler. “I said I had a rough night, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t breathe down my back today.”
“You had a rough night?” Houston’s tone was gentle, making me instantly wary. I stared at him, not bothering to respond. “And you thought you’d come to my session, play like shit, and then cry on my shoulder about your personal problems?”
“I don’t see any tears, do you?”
This time I heard a low, drawn-out groan behind me.
“You know what I see? I see a whiny brat who doesn’t want to earn her keep.”
I didn’t have time to consider the repercussions before I exploded.
“I bust my ass every day, Houston! It’s not good enough, though, is it? It never is. We both know I’m good. You were an amateur once too, but I doubt you were half as good as me. So what’s your real problem with me, huh? Do I not have the right equipment for you to accept that I deserve to be here? Are you too macho to admit that you’re only pretending to be in control? Well, I see you, Houston, and maybe that scares you. If you want me to quit, you’re going to have to try harder than being an asshole who thinks too highly of himself. If you’re scared, get a nightlight, bitch. I’m not going anywhere.”
Exhaling all the air I’d trapped in my lungs, I fooled myself into thinking I’d won. I’d finally shut Houston Morrow up. After my little speech, however, he couldn’t even give me the benefit of a reaction. Not unless I counted the fury in his green eyes right before he moved them over my head and spoke to his friends behind me.
“Get out.”
I knew he didn’t mean me, but I was tempted to flee anyway. The moment the door closed behind Loren and Jericho, Houston moved away from me.
I didn’t expect that.
The only problem was that I could no longe
r see him. It wasn’t until I heard the lock turning that I dared look over my shoulder.
Oh, fuck.
This time, when he closed the distance between us, he stood behind me. I could feel every breath he took on my nape, sending chills down my spine. Instead of the coppery scent of fear, I tasted cherries and smelled cinnamon.
“Braxton?”
“Yes, Houston?”
“I want to tell you a secret.”
“Oh, good, another one. I’m sure it will be riveting.”
Wrapping his hand around my neck from behind, he pulled me even closer before placing his lips at my ear. “Whatever you think you know about me, I promise you I’m much worse. So are they. Loren likes for people to think that what you see is what you get. He saves what’s really lurking inside for special occasions. Rich, he’s nice, isn’t he? He does whatever I tell him to. I can see that desperate need for us to be close again in his eyes. He wants it so much that if I asked him to help me hide a body, he would. Without question.”
Houston’s arm locked around my waist when I jerked forward from shock. Was he implying what I thought he was implying?
“A horrific thing like that would surely bond us forever, wouldn’t it?” I tried to speak, but he gripped my jaw, shutting me up. “It’s simple, Bambi. Be a good girl, do what we say, and you’ll never have to find out what kind of man I really am.” Releasing my neck, he spun me around but kept his hands locked on my waist. “Go home. Take the day. Think about if you really want to have this conversation again.”
Houston Morrow just threatened to murder me, and I wasn’t quite sure whether I believed him or not.
Knowing that was his intent, I didn’t move. My knees were too weak. Sensing this, Houston pulled me close until our hips were pressed together, and I had to tilt my head to look into his eyes.
“Why are you still here, Fawn?”
His warm whisper intensified the ache between my thighs. “I-I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. I wanted to leave, and I wanted to stay. I wanted to see just how bad and terrible Houston Morrow could get.
Slowly, his hands drifted from my waist to the top of my ass, and something like encouragement ripped from my throat. Just a little lower, and I’d be his.
A moment later, we were forced apart by a knock on the door.
“Is everything okay in there?”
Rich.
“Fine,” Houston barked while staring at me. “Braxton was just leaving.”
I was? Oh. Right.
Houston threatened to kill me if I didn’t fall in line and self-preservation told me to writhe all over him like a bitch in heat.
Unbelievable.
I didn’t need any more incentive than that to get the hell out of there. Keeping my gaze off Houston, I left the room, ignoring Rich, who stood there looking confused and concerned. Barry, thankfully, was already waiting outside.
As soon as my ass touched the leather seats inside the SUV, I shifted uncomfortably. The arousal soaking my thong was called The Houston Morrow Effect. It ruined panties and destroyed brain cells.
I had twenty minutes until I was home. Twenty whole minutes until I was alone and could relieve the ache. After that, I’d figure out how I planned to survive a world tour and months of lonely nights spent in close quarters with three men slowly awakening a part of me that I thought was long buried.
“You look fabulous.”
Sherri, who’d been waiting for me when I stepped inside my dressing room, stepped aside after admiring her work. I didn’t want to look, but the gasps that came from Griff and Maeko had my eyes flying to the LED mirror in front of me.
I didn’t recognize my reflection. She wasn’t the girl I’d become these past few months. Sherri had hidden all the sleepless nights and endless days spent worrying over this moment.
When it was discovered I’d be filling Calvin’s shoes, everything changed. For the past month, I’ve lived under a microscope. My job, my home—nothing was private anymore.
I’d always feared that I’d do something to trigger this scrutiny—like when Britney flashed her crotch. It turns out I didn’t have to be that drastic. Existing was all it took. Rich promised I’d get used to it, Loren swore I’d hate it forever, and Houston told me to suck it up.
Since tonight was the first show of the Bound & Bellicose tour, I’d taken Houston’s advice. It turns out three months flew by when you didn’t want it to.
The Forum, formerly the Lakers’ arena, was our first stop, and all eighteen thousand seats had been sold. My stomach turned as my hands began to shake. At this very moment, those seats were filling, and it was all I could do not to click my heels and wish I were somewhere else. Or someone else.
“Thanks, Sherri. You’re an artist.” I gave her a smile I didn’t feel, even though she’d truly done an amazing job, and she excused herself.
“Stop it,” Griff ordered once we were alone in my dressing room. “I know that look. You’re an amazing guitarist, Brax. They just don’t know it yet,” she claimed, referring to the stadium full of Bound’s adoring fans. “That’s why you’re going to show them.”
I wanted to believe her, but I ended up rolling my eyes instead. “I love you, Griff, but we both know those people didn’t spend three hundred bucks on tickets to see me. They’re here for them.”
“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong. They might not have good intentions, but that won’t matter in a couple of hours. You’re going to make those assholes find a heart just so they can eat it.”
My head tilted to the side as I turned over her words. “Are we talking about the crowd or Bound?”
Griffin shrugged while staring at me with unflinching confidence and a lack of remorse. She’d make a great lawyer one day. “Both.” Nudging Maeko with her elbow, she added, “Back me up here, Ko.”
Tapping her clutch, Maeko nodded. “I packed extra panties just for you, Brax.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It chased away the butterflies. “If you throw them on stage, the guys might get the wrong idea,” I warned her.
“What’s your point?” she countered with a straight face. Griff rolled her eyes before fixing her gaze a little too hard on a spot on the other side of the room.
I adored Maeko, but she would not last an hour, much less an entire night, with any of them. Maeko was too soft and sweet, even for Rich, who was an angel compared to his friends. Besides, I was still hoping my absence would give Griff the courage to make her secret feelings known. Maeko might have been oblivious, but I’d caught on a while ago.
At first, I thought maybe they’d connected better than they had with me until I realized it was a different connection entirely. I wasn’t sure what was holding Griff back. She was usually straightforward and not the least bit shy, but I hoped she got over it soon. I wanted my friends happy.
“Can we please talk about how hot you look?” Maeko gushed, pulling Griff and me out of our heads. “I’d say you look like a rock star, but that’s kind of a moot point. I wonder how much hairspray Yuri used to get your hair to stay like that.”
“Judging by how hard it still is to breathe in here, I’d say a lot,” Griff deadpanned while fanning the misty air in front of her with a frown.
Rather than shaving the sides of my hair to achieve the faux hawk, Yuri had braided the sides, leaving the larger mass of my hair drifting down my back. Sherri then amplified the edgy look by darkening my eyes with black liner and shadow and painting my naturally red lips with clear gloss.
Tonight’s wardrobe consisted of a black halter with crisscrossed strings holding the front together and electric-blue pants, both leather and so tight I wondered if they assumed breathing was optional. The boots adorning my feet were the best thing about the ensemble. I didn’t know if I got to keep them, and I didn’t care. They were coming home with me.
A knock on the door had my heart falling into my stomach as fear and worry sent my olfactory senses on a joy ride. I knew before the stagehand yelled through
the door that it was time.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Maeko yelled while jumping up and down excitedly. And then, with tears in her eyes, she added, “My best friend is a rock star.”
“Not quite,” I denied with a weak smile. I almost choked on the copper and brine I knew only I could smell. “But keep your fingers crossed for me, will ya?”
I left the dressing room with my friends hot on my heels since there was nothing left to say or do. It was so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. Perhaps it was best for everyone. Backstage was chaos as the crew hurried to and from to get last-minute things in place. Our opening act would be done any minute and then…
I took a deep breath that shuddered out of me before looking around.
Where the hell were they?
She didn’t see us, but we saw her.
We watched as one of our roadies handed Braxton the guitar she’d be using for the first half of our set. She then looked around again as soon as he was gone. It hadn’t been my intention to hide, but then I saw her and the last thing on my mind was the goddamn show. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head against the wall and willed my hard-on away.
“Damn,” Loren mumbled. I didn’t need to see to know that he was referring to Braxton. “Maybe having a chick in our mix isn’t such a bad idea after all. She’s certainly nicer to look at. Smells good too.”
“Not wanting her in our band never had anything to do with her being a girl,” Rich claimed.
“Uh-huh,” Loren mocked dismissively. There was a beat of silence and then, “If you’re picturing your grandmother naked, I wouldn’t advise it. She’s kind of hot.”
My eyes flew open, and I found Loren watching me. “What are you talking about?”
“Braxton. You want to fuck her.”
Xavier found us sitting on the staircase even though there were empty couches just a few feet away. We were hiding. “Last I counted, I only had two kids. Why do you three make me feel like I have five?”