I wanted to believe Bobby so badly. I tried my best to be a good person, but I failed constantly. I turned my back on the people closest to me. That wasn’t right. That didn’t say good person, that screamed cold, calculated bitch. I had a horrible temper, and I was not loyal.
“I locked you out,” I whispered. “That’s not loyalty, that’s betrayal.”
“I knew what you were doing and why. And I let you do it.” Bobby sighed and tightened her grip. “That was my fault.”
“No, Bobby. Nothing’s your fault. I did it and I want you to know I’m sorry. I should’ve turned to you instead of pushing you away. But by the time I realized what I was doing, I felt like y’all were so far away and maybe that was a good thing. I didn’t want all my parents’ toxic shit to pollute your life. I had lawyers working on it, Leslie and Melissa had been drug through the mud and I didn’t want you getting pulled in anymore than you already were. They’re evil and they were playing dirty.”
Bobby’s features gentled but I knew that look. It was deceiving, it was normally the one she gave me to soften the blow of her words.
And when she spoke again, I wasn’t wrong. Not about the look and not about the blow.
“And that’s what hurts the most. You thinking that I would care about what those two said or did to me. I get you were trying to protect me. I appreciate that. But who was protecting you? You had my back but made it so I couldn’t have yours. That’s not what friends do.”
Her grip tightened. “Suddenly, our relationship revolved around work. Again, that’s my fault, I let you do that. I thought that’s what you needed from me so you could sort yourself out. But when you didn’t, it was my job to pull your head out of your ass. But I didn’t do that because I was afraid you’d cut me out—not just off, but out. I’ve seen you do it. I’ve watched you cut ties and never turn back and I was petrified you’d do that to me, so I let you pull away and build your walls. That fucking hurt.
“But I should’ve been a good enough friend to at least try to get you back to you, and not care about the repercussions. I know better now. So, you can be pissed all you want. You can cut me out. You can fire me here and now. I’m gonna say what I have to say and you’re gonna listen.”
Bobby pulled in a breath, kept ahold of my hand, leaned in, and I braced.
“Your parents are dicks. The worst kind of scum. They hurt you. They lie to you. They’ve tried to steal from you. Through that, you’ve kept the high ground. Your public image is unblemished. You’re the poster child for rising above and succeeding against all the odds. Your fans love you. Your career is soaring. But, girl, your private life is in shambles. It’s time you woke up, put those motherfuckers in your rearview mirror, and moved on. You are not them. You are not a gold-digging bitch who hooked up with a man for the sole purpose of using him as an ATM.”
Her voice softened. “You are strong. Yet you allow them to walk all over you. You allow them to get into your head. You allow it. Stop. Just stop. Please. Your life is passing you by. You’re missing it. And you’re allowing that, too. And while we’re on the subject of you letting things pass you by, girl, straight up, you’re freaking insane if you let Chasin slip past you. That man is crazy about you.”
Unfortunately, I hadn’t braced, not fully, so my friend’s words hit me, and they did it with such force I couldn’t stop the rush of pain and sadness.
“Tell me how you really feel,” I mumbled.
“Think I just did, Viv. And I’ll repeat it until you listen to me. I’ll tell you over and over until you finally untwist everything those perverse, vicious vultures planted in you. You cannot know how bad it hurts to see you disconnect from everyone around you. You become a shell. You write your music, you coast through the motions of daily life, you participate in business decisions, but you do not live. You exist and that’s it. You’re a zombie. And, honey, it fucking kills me.”
I sat frozen, unbreathing and gutted.
You got one life, baby.
“I hate them but I hate myself more,” I whispered.
“What?”
“You’re right. I allow it—all of it. I let them infest my life. I’m so weak, I can’t fight it. They fuck me over every chance they get. And every damn time, I’m thirteen years old again listening to my mother screaming at me that I ruined her life. That it was my fault my dad drank because he couldn’t stand me. It was my fault Gramps cut them off. I hate them. But I do it to myself.”
“There’s nothing weak about you. That’s bullshit. Wishing you had good, decent parents isn’t a weakness. And the emotional scars that bitch saddled you with isn’t a weakness. Look at yourself. Look at all you’ve achieved. You did it, all on your own. No help. No handouts. You. All. You. Fuck her. Seriously, Viv, fuck her. She’s a liar. A piece of garbage who’s been jealous of you your whole life. You represent everything she never was, everything she couldn’t be, she’s blinded by your beauty. Your mother looks in the mirror and hates what she sees. She’s the weak one. So fucking weak she made you pay for all her many flaws. She blames you because she’s a pathetic excuse for a human.”
Needless to say, I missed my friend, really missed her. Bobby had always been the one person in my life who didn’t hold back—until I froze her out. Then she had no choice but to keep her peace. She didn’t hide her feelings. She didn’t tiptoe around anything. She said what she felt, and meant what she said.
“I miss you. How do I fix what I broke between us?”
Bobby’s hand spasmed in mine and I heard her inhale, then I watched the tears start to pool. “Think you just fixed us. And, Viv? I missed you, too, a lot. More than I can say.”
For a moment we both sat in silence, tears streaming down our cheeks, but neither of us moved to wipe them away. Inexpressible relief washed through me, and at that moment staring at my best friend, a weight lifted. A big, heavy weight I’d chained around my neck and drug everywhere where I went.
No more.
I wanted it gone.
No, I needed it gone.
I had one life to live and I wasn’t doing it with an elephant sitting on my chest any longer.
“So, Chasin?” she asked. “How’d that happen?”
I smiled, Bobby chuckled, and it was safe to say I was seriously happy to have Bobby back. Not just because she was my BFF and I hated that I put distance between us and hurt her. But also because she said what she felt, and meant what she said, and that went beyond her laying me out about my parents. Beyond her sound business advice.
She was a human asshole-detector, which worked well for me because I was an asshole magnet. I hadn’t spent time with very many men, but the ones I had, she warned me straight away which ones were the normal garden variety assholes and which ones wanted to take me for a ride, which would include bleeding me dry both emotionally and financially. She’d never been wrong.
It was like she had a sixth sense. I, on the other hand, was born with the opposite.
“I was on the pier moving Uncle Clifford’s Adirondack chairs and I lost my balance and fell into the river. Chasin was paddling by, saw me fall in, and came over to help,” I told her.
“Right. I could totally see how that could lead to five orgasms, in one go.” Bobby laughed.
“Well, he did save my life and all, so I invited him in.”
“Riiight.” She drew out the word three beats before she continued. “Because you weren’t on the high school swim team or anything, so you would’ve totally died had he not stopped to help.”
I had my Bobby back.
Thank God.
Her sassy sarcasm couldn’t be missed, then she added an eye roll and a crooked smile. I couldn’t help it, I shrugged my shoulders, smiled back, and burst into a fit of laughter.
I needed some serious advice. Chasin had made it clear he’d found a pair of bolt cutters and was prepared to use them to cut through my emotional padlocks. But I had Bobby back and it felt damn good to laugh. So I let myself have it, a moment of gi
ggling with my best friend.
“Okay, spill. Start to finish. I want all the details,” Bobby demanded.
So that’s what I did—I spilled.
From start to finish and everything between, I told Bobby all about Chasin. I opened up and told her how he had no idea who I was at first—which made her eyeballs comically bug out. I told her about inviting him in, me being, well, just me. Not Vivi Rush but the real Genevieve. I told her we laughed a lot, we had great sex—though I didn’t get into the details of what made it so great. Then I told her Chasin and I laughed some more, we cuddled on the couch watching bad reality TV—something that Chasin had never watched.
I told her how in a weekend I’d fallen totally in love with a man I barely knew. Then I told her about the ill-timed phone call, Chasin overhearing and reacting like a supreme dick, watching him walking away, allowing him to go without defending myself, and finally freezing him out.
And Chasin’s mission to defrost me.
When I was done, Bobby’s eyes were still big but she was smiling.
I wasn’t entirely sure what that smile conveyed but I knew she’d tell me. And I was afraid of what she was going to say, because I could guess.
“Give him a chance,” she said.
Yep, I’d guessed correctly. That’s what I thought she was going to say and butterflies took flight in my belly, making me nauseous.
“Um, did ya miss the last part where I told you he called me a cheating bitch?”
Bobby waved her free hand like she was batting away the words I’d spoken.
“He explained that.”
Incidentally, I’d shared that Chasin’s mother was a lying, cheating bitch and that’s why he’d lost his mind when he thought Bobby was a man.
“And I already knew he’d overheard our conversation and thought you were talking to a man.”
“You did?”
“Yep, he told me straight out he’d jumped to conclusions and didn’t let you explain. I told him he was an idiot and he’d fucked up huge. I almost felt bad for the guy when I told him he’d lost out on something great. He kinda looked like I’d kicked his puppy. But I didn’t like him then so I didn’t much care.”
That was so Bobby. She had a big heart—a huge, loyal heart. And even mad at me, she’d take my back, and tell it like it is. Even if she was telling a man six inches taller than her, who looked like he could bench press two of her, and was kind of scary-looking when he was pissed.
“But you like him now?”
“I was on the fence until I heard the story. Now that I know why he flipped out…not saying it’s right, Viv, but you have to admit, he had a good reason. What his mom did was jacked the fuck up. What kind of woman does that? It seriously marked him. And hate to say it, but he’s right. You could’ve stopped him. Even after he said what he said, you should’ve defended yourself. But I know why you didn’t. The same reason he jumped to conclusions. You both have some serious issues with the people who were supposed to love and protect you.”
So, they were both right, I should’ve stuck up for myself.
But in my defense, his accusations ripped me apart. They’d torn at my insides and opened old wounds.
“He said it would be a travesty if I let all the beauty I have to give go to waste,” I whispered.
Bobby’s hand in mine didn’t squeeze, it squeezed, and it was painful.
“Viv, honey, give him a chance. I would not steer you wrong. Maybe it goes nowhere, or maybe it does. But you’ll never know if you don’t give him a chance. Be brave. Be fearless. Be the woman you were always meant to be. This is the first step in putting the assholes behind you. Don’t allow them to take this from you.”
Yep, Bobby said what she felt, and meant what she said.
She gave it straight.
Be brave.
I could do that.
“Okay. I’ll talk to him when he gets back.”
“Good. Now tell me about the new tattoo.”
My smile faltered and I told her about the tattoo and the song I’d written.
When I was done, she smiled huge. Which was a strange reaction because the lyrics were all about heartbreak and never getting what you wanted.
Whatever. Bobby was many things—romantic wasn’t one of them, but being half bat-shit crazy was.
I’d roll with it and be brave.
13
Chasin pulled his Charger through the iron gates of Genevieve’s driveway, thinking he’d like to move her out to the Swagger farm where he lived.
There had been a time when Nixon, Jameson, Weston, and Chasin all lived in the old farmhouse. Now Chasin was the last one there. Nixon moved in with McKenna, her farm butting against Nixon’s land. Weston and Silver bought the house next to Nixon and McKenna, ditto with their land bordering the Swagger farm.
Jameson moved to Kennedy’s, and when Alec had moved to Kent County, he purchased a house and piece of land that used to belong to Kennedy’s family, making Jameson and Alec neighbors with their land adjoining as well.
Holden still lived in his prized Airstream even though there was plenty of room in the farmhouse, where Chasin lived alone.
His eyes scanned the area around the mansion, seeing Jameson’s truck and two rental cars. He took in the large front yard, the pier, and he did this with his chest tight. It was too easy to gain access to the property. The house was situated at the end of the street. The iron gates that did not lock were visible, the street busy with foot traffic because there was a public dock at the dead end. A dock the locals used to sit and relax on one of the many benches scattered around.
The weather was warm, the citizens were out and about, the geese that made the river home attracted people young and old, out to enjoy the wild beasts. And to make matters worse, the Schooner Sultana was docked front and center. The reproduction of the merchant vessel was one of the many things that drew tourists to the small town.
The old house was too exposed, even with the new alarm. He wanted Genevieve away from the social epicenter of Cliff City. Away from prying eyes that made it impossible for her to go outside. He knew she was used to locking herself away in her home studio to create her music but the woman needed to get out of the house.
Chasin turned off his car and cracked his neck, his one tell that frustration was mounting. Earlier, he’d learned that the detective in Tennessee wasn’t just a shit detective, he was an asshole, too. The file he’d sent over was so light, it was damn near empty. This was because, Detective Loughry hadn’t taken Genevieve’s situation seriously, to the point he’d basically blown it off as a fan doing what fans tend to do—write fan mail. Then when the tone of the letters changed, he still hadn’t taken it seriously because the dick had thought it was a PR stunt to help boost record sales.
How the fucker thought that was the case, when nothing had been leaked to the media, was anyone’s guess. It was obvious, Bobby along with Genevieve’s publicist had worked overtime to make sure no one caught wind of the story. Yet, Loughry had still done minimal police work, as in nil.
That was, until the break-in. Not that he’d done much with that either, but it was more than he’d done with the letters and gifts. So Chasin and the team were starting from zero. The bright side to that was, they didn’t have to scrounge through someone else’s notes. Bad thing was, the dick hadn’t done anything in the last year to make this end for Genevieve.
That pissed Chasin off.
And he had bad news to deliver, which only added to his irritation.
Leslie Briggs had lied not only about her brother’s arrest, but also about two other bodyguards she’d recommended to Bobby.
Thankfully, they didn’t have police records like Leslie’s brother did, but they lacked experience—as in, they had none. The two guys were simply buddies of Chad’s and needed a job so Chad had hit his sister up and the bitch had assigned them work. Not only had they guarded Genevieve, but several of the label’s other clients.
The jury was still out
on Detective Loughry and if he had anything to hide. McKenna was digging in to him this afternoon. However, Chasin had already scratched him off the list of possible suspects simply because some of the letters had been sent from the cities Genevieve had been touring in, and the detective had been in Nashville.
But that didn’t mean that Chasin wouldn’t like to put the screws to the asshole for not doing his job, which meant a bad situation had turned seriously bad and had slid to dangerous.
Movement at the side door caught his attention. He watched Jameson exit the house and prowl across the porch, face set in stone.
What now?
Chasin folded out of his Charger and was slamming the door when his friend stopped near the hood and waited.
“Why the look?” Chasin prompted.
“Wiring in that house is fucked. Only half of the house was rewired sometime in this century. The back of the house, including the kitchen, formal living room, and dining room are jacked. And the electrical box is a mess, as in it’s a damn fire hazard. I can finish the system, but with the bad wiring, a cut-rate amateur with a little bit of know-how will be able to bypass it.”
A slow smile pulled at Chasin’s lips. Genevieve might not like it, but damn if this didn’t work in his favor.
“Sucks you wasted half your day, but I can’t say I’m all that beat up about it.”
“Did you hear me? Half the house has no door or window sensors and the other half can be breached.”
“Guess I’m gonna have to take Genevieve to the farm.” Chasin shrugged.
Jameson took him in for a beat before he threw his head back and roared with laughter.
“And Bobby?”
Fucking shit. He’d forgotten about Bobby.
“Maybe I should call Jonny?”
Chasin's Surrender (Gemini Group Book 5) Page 10