by K. K. Allen
“Thanks, Lyric.” As sorry as I feel for the guy, the way he says my name as if we’re old friends drags a rake down my spine.
I dump the tray off in the kitchen and join Wolf and the rest of the band on the sofa downstairs in the game room. Wolf pulls me onto his lap and I curl up into a ball, letting him hold me.
But my eyes never leave the strange, jittery man, who only seems stranger as he takes a seat beside his boss. He’s not helping him. At least, it doesn’t appear that way. Instead, his leg jiggles anxiously and his eyes wander around the room.
“You okay, babe?” Wolf asks in my ear.
I nod, but he finds my focal point and now is watching too. “Guy’s kind of creepy, yeah? What did you say his name was again?” My heart is pounding like it’s leading a freaking marching band.
“Cole Matthews,” Wolf responds easily. “He’s been with the team as long as I’ve known them. He was just an intern back then.”
My eyes widen, and I look up to face Wolf. Does he hear himself? “What? As in the same legal aid that tried to pass off Crawley’s updated legal terms to your label to own the rights to the songs I gifted to you?”
Wolf gives me curious eyes. “Yeah. Doug says he’s a bumbling idiot. Why? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. He seems awfully nervous, don’t you think?”
Wolf lets out an airy laugh. “Oh, that. He’s a fan, babe. Don’t judge. Almost shit his pants when I shook his hand earlier. I think he has a crush on you, too. He keeps staring at you.”
I look at Cole, who stares down at the contract beneath his pen with a wrinkled brow. He seems to be concentrating on something important. And for a second, I decide that maybe Wolf is right. Maybe he is just a superfan who happens to be the same one who missed the fact that Crawley tried to steal my songs from Wolf.
What am I thinking, anyway? That Cole had something to do with the legal revisions from years ago? He was just an intern. There’s no way any lawyer would put that much trust into a kid.
Just then, Bradley from the Wicked’s legal team stands and clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. “Crawley is mentioned in the label’s agreement,” he announces. “A small section on page 44.”
“We already know this, Bradley,” says Fredrick, Wolf’s lawyer. He looks annoyed, like this is all a waste of his time. “The problem is,” Fredrick explains, “that it just notes his base salary from when the contract was signed with the label and says the contracts will be renewed in five years. That doesn’t override the fact that the band made a separate deal with him prior to this contract being signed.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Bradley pulls up the original agreement, grinning, then throws it on the table for Frederick to view. “Read who the agreement was established between.”
Frederick rolls his eyes. “Beowulf Chapman and Lionel Crawley. So what?”
“So,” Bradley explains, “the original agreement states that if Lionel Crawley is fired by Wolf, then he is owed. No one fired Crawley during the time these contract terms were valid.”
My dad jumps in, grabbing the document from Fredrick’s hands. “You’re right. Crawley was never fired by Wolf during the terms of this contract. Simple as that. Crawley was written into the label’s agreement when the label became his employer.” My dad looks up. “Meaning the old contract is void. Wolf’s music is protected under the label’s new contract, and there isn’t a thing Crawley can do to fight that.”
Bradley beams and takes the document from my dad’s hands. “That’s correct. There is nothing binding Wolf, the person, to Crawley any longer. In simple terms, Wolf may have kicked Crawley off the tour, but it was the label who terminated his employment for a list of acceptable reasons. Manipulating legal documents, unprofessionalism, and insubordination to name a few. Wolf and the label are in the clear.”
The room lights up with excitement. Wolf’s arm tightens around me, and I turn in to hug him hard. My heart pounds in my chest. Can it seriously be this easy? Is it over? I can’t be so quick to assume we’ve won this thing yet, but it sure sounds like everything is going our way.
As celebration consumes the room, I’m rooted to my seat. Instead of joining in, I find myself examining Cole, who has stepped away from the excitement to take a call on the other side of the room, I can’t shake the feeling that this battle isn’t over. Maybe I’ll feel differently once my songbook is safely in my hands. I’d also love to see a new contract drawn up with bulletproof protection against assholes like Crawley.
My phone buzzes on the table beside me. I grab it when I see Doug’s name and excuse myself to an empty room down the hall, shutting the door behind me.
“Hey, Doug,” I answer. I want nothing more than to fill him in on everything that’s just gone down. But maybe I shouldn’t. There’s still so much to be done, and I wouldn’t want to compromise any of our plans. Not that Doug would tell a soul. He’s one of the good ones.
There’s a crackle on the other end of the line, some quick breaths, and then a familiar voice breaking through the static. Air freezes in my throat as I listen.
“Lyric, it’s me.” Tony’s voice is low and rushed, immediately filling me with a boil of anger.
“Goddammit, Tony.” I hiss into the phone, livid that he still won’t give up. And now that I’ve blocked his new number, he’s calling me with Doug’s phone. “Don’t you ever listen? Leave. Me. Alone.”
“Fuck. Lyric, stop. I need to talk to you.”
I pinch my noise to control my anger, fill my lungs with air and then shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No, Tony. Just—no. Whatever you want to talk about, there’s no point. It’s over.”
He starts to talk again, but I’m faster. “I’m hanging up. I can’t block this number because it’s Doug’s, but if you try to contact me again, I will get a restraining order, and I won’t hesitate to spill your every misdemeanor to the press. Goodbye.”
I power down my phone and am shoving it my pocket when the door opens and Wolf enters quietly,
“Babe.”
I feel my body shaking from my brief call with Tony, but I try to contain it for Wolf’s sake. The last thing we need is more drama getting in the middle of all this chaos. But I can’t shake the unsettled feeling that has stayed with me since I first laid eyes on that legal aid. I’m worried that there’s something we’re all missing. Something Crawley will blindside us with. And I’m terrified this won’t be as easy as we all think.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Wolf says gently.
I nod, no energy to argue. I’m tired. Everyone thinks the battle is over, but I’m not so sure it is.
Wolf leads me to our bathroom and leaves me in front of the shower while he starts it, testing the water and then turning to me.
He must sense my exhaustion because he takes my long dress and lifts it above my head, careful to avoid snagging my hair. When he’s tossed it aside, he reaches around to unclasp my bra, gently sliding it over my shoulders, his fingers gliding along my skin until the cloth drops to the floor.
His kisses are soft, his lips gently kneading mine and shaking me from the inside out. Fabric lifts from my hips and slides down my thighs as Wolf removes my panties. He lowers himself to a kneeling position, and his eyes lock on mine as he places a kiss on my pelvis. My skin warms where his mouth touches, and as he stands again, my entire body buzzes.
Wolf moves me into the shower, continuing to be gentle. Loving. He’s always been able to read me, and he knows this is what I need right now. He places me under the hot water, getting my hair wet before lathering it with shampoo. He massages my scalp with his strong hands, his strength comforting, making me feel every bit as cherished as I always do with him.
He takes a washcloth and rubs gentle circles on my skin, starting between my shoulder blades and working his way down to the small of my back. A kiss lands on my shoulder, almost distracting me from the hand moving around my waist to my stomach, lightly brushing the skin bel
ow my left breast. Nothing about it is sexual, but it’s all so intimate still, and I never want him to stop.
I’m reminded once again how perfect we are together. How I never realized how much I was missing until Wolf showed up in my life. How my life was just a series of rock tours, glass windows, and empty, convenient love. And how the one man I should have never fallen in love with managed to claim a piece of my soul.
I turn to face him, swallowing when I see the way he’s watching me, his caramel eyes heavy with love and yearning. But for once, the yearning isn’t for sex. We’re far more than that. We’ve become two people in a war that has the power to rip us apart, but we’ll only ever be fighting together.
My hand moves to his heart and I lean in, angling my chin to grip his eyes with mine. “No matter what happens, we’re going to be okay,” I say with conviction. We’ve already come to this conclusion, but I’m just now starting to grasp the sentiment with my whole heart.
Wolf nods. “We will always be okay.” He tips my chin up with his fingers, making my heart soar in my chest. When his lips find mine, he’s weaving his fingers through my hair and deepening the connection.
He knows what I know. Nothing else matters, as long as we’re together.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lyric
She’ll be here any minute. I’m wringing my hands in the back seat of the band’s hired SUV, unsure if I’m more nervous about seeing Deloris again or about the tapes she’ll be bringing with her. Those recordings. The only proof I have of what was stolen from me years ago. Memories I’ve tried to bury along with my anger at the woman who ended up being the evil in the world that she was supposed to protect me from.
If it weren’t for Deloris, I may never have made it through my teenage years. She was everything I needed, even though I may not have realized it at the time. She never let me miss a meal. She was a tutor when I needed one. And she was my companion when all I wanted to do was lock myself in the house and binge on bad food and television.
When everything changed, after I realized what Destiny had done, I started to thank my lucky stars when she didn’t come home. I wouldn’t have been able to stomach the sight of her. Working out a transfer to Seattle with Perform Live was the easiest decision I ever made. With my diploma barely in my hand, I kissed Deloris goodbye and headed straight for the airport.
No regrets.
What I didn’t expect was for Deloris to follow me to Seattle, and take a full-time nanny position for a family in Fremont, just north of downtown. With her own kids fully grown and living in different parts of the country, there was nothing tying her to California, and Destiny had no reason to keep her around. Not that Deloris would have stayed.
My phone buzzes, and the moment I see Doug’s name on the screen I answer it, praying it’s not Tony again. I could kill him for continuing to pop up in my life like he owns me, like he has any right to speak to me after his betrayal—and worse, after meddling in my relationship with Wolf.
“It’s me,” says the panicked voice on the other line. “Please don’t hang up. This is important.”
I swallow my anger, knowing in my gut I need to hear him out this time. “Fine. You have two minutes.”
“Thank you,” he sighs. “Look, Doug…” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and I’m gripped with fear. “He’s missing.”
“What do you mean? He’s missing?”
“Well—have you heard from him?”
Confusion fills me. Why would I—? “No. I haven’t heard from him since the end of Wolf’s tour. Before he left to babysit you. But you’re calling me from Doug’s phone. What is going on?”
A frustrated huff of air leaves Tony. I remember that noise. He made it a lot during our final weeks together. There was always something frustrating in his life, and I always felt like it was me.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Something fucking weird is going on, Lyric. Doug has been getting a lot of strange phone calls lately. He’ll step away to take them, but I’ve heard him get into these intense arguments. And then he never came back to the bus after our last show two nights ago. No one’s seen him. We’ve been stuck in Tampa, waiting for his ass to appear. He left his phone, his wallet. Everything is here … except him.”
“Jesus, you’re serious? Did you call the cops? Maybe something happened to him.” I grip the leather seat hard, my knuckles whitening at the pressure.
“Yes, I called the cops today but there’s not much they’ll do for me since he’s a grown ass man and I have no proof that anything bad happened.”
“Did you check to see who the calls were from? It could just be the label.”
Tony sighs. “His call log was deleted. But I heard him address whoever it was by the name Crawley. Isn’t that Wolf’s band manager?”
My chest grows heavy with worry. Fuck. What the hell does Crawley want with Doug? And where is Doug now?
“I’ve called everyone I can think of,” he says. “I just—hoped maybe you knew something.” Tony pauses. “You believe me, right?”
I narrow my eyes even though he can’t see me. I wasn’t questioning his honesty until he asked me to trust him.
“Prove it,” I say.
There’s a gasp on the other end of the line. “What?”
“Prove that you aren’t lying.”
“How?” he explodes.
I search for an idea—anything for Tony to say or do to make me believe he’s truly panicked and that Doug is really gone. Why would he just disappear? It makes no sense at all.
“Tell the media what really happened between you and me, and you and Wolf.”
There’s a longer pause now, and I can almost see Tony’s face flame with rage. “Lyric, I’m not fucking around. I think whoever Doug has been talking to hurt him. And you want to play fucking games with me?”
“I’m not playing games. It will take you two seconds to post a message on social media saying that you’re to blame for getting beat by Wolf.”
“That’s stupid!” Tony explodes again. “That shit’s already died down. And anyway, I didn’t get beat.”
“Just do it, Tony, or I’ll know you’re full of shit about Doug.”
I end the call with Tony just as we’re pulling up to the airport and immediately dial Wolf’s number. After ringing a few times, it goes to voicemail. I want to scream. What nightmare am I living in now?
Wolf’s voicemail picks up telling me to leave a message.
“Babe, it’s me. Look, Tony just called from Doug’s phone, so I answered. He says that Doug is missing. I don’t know if he’s telling the truth, but I can’t imagine why he would lie about something like this.” I take a deep breath. “What if Doug’s really missing? Tony says that Crawley’s been calling him. A lot. Anyway, I’m at the airport. Just call me back soon. I love you.”
It takes me a few minutes to get my bearings back, to try to push all thoughts of Doug to the back of my mind so I can look for Deloris. When I see her round figure emerge through the sliding glass door of the airport, I’m flooded with memories of getting my hands sticky in the kitchen as I’d roll dough in sugar to make churros. Of learning to drive at the cemetery, since there was no way I could kill anyone. Of playing Scrabble by the fire “just one more time” so I could finally beat her. I never could. I smile, unable to stop myself.
The driver, whose name I forgot to ask in the flurry of activity, opens the car door, and I jump out to greet Deloris. She hasn’t changed much since I last saw her. She’s still just as vertically challenged as me, with fuller curves than I remember, curly, dark brown hair, and small, brown eyes that always seem to disappear when she smiles.
My arms wrap around her shoulders, and I squeeze. I might even squeal. And then I burst into tears, unable to hold back the thick build-up of emotion in my chest.
“Sweetie, shh. I’m here, baby girl.” I always loved when she called me baby girl. It made me feel protected, which is something I hadn’t felt agai
n until recently. Until Wolf.
After our long embrace and my cry session, we shuffle into the SUV.
“So,” she prompts, turning toward me with narrowed eyes. “Care to fill me in on why I just took an eight-hour flight to Miami of all places? In the summer?” She fans herself dramatically. “My old bones won’t stand for this humidity, you know.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “Your old bones will be just fine. And yes, I’ll explain everything back at the house. Do you have the tapes on you, or did you pack them in your luggage?”
“They’re right here.” She reaches into her carry-on purse and pulls out a large zip lock bag with a dozen or so tapes tucked safely inside.
I smile and take the bag from her. “Wow. I just had a flashback to the day I packed these up and shoved them in a drawer in the locker.” Shaking my head, I meet Deloris’ eyes.
While Deloris knows that there was tension between Destiny and me, and she may very well know more than she ever let on, we’ve never discussed her stealing my music.
“Does this have anything to do with that ‘Dangerous Heart’ song?” The smile that blooms on her face shocks me right to hell. My jaw drops.
“You know about that?” I let out a huff of breath. “Everyone knows. How does everyone freaking know?”
Deloris rolls her eyes. “You’re still as clueless and stubborn as ever. You must have thought I was deaf when we were living together.”
“No, of course not. But to recognize my lyrics when someone else is singing them is…” I shake my head. “It’s been years.”
She smiles sadly. “I know. But there’s something about your lyrics I’ll always recognize. Strength through sadness is how I thought about it. Always a fighter, you were. I’ve always been proud of you for that.” She reaches over to cup my chin in her hands. “Looks like that hasn’t changed a bit.”
When she drops her hand, I let out another laugh. “It’s really good to see you, Deloris. I’m sorry I haven’t made it back to Seattle. Between Tony’s show and touring schedule and then accepting the job with Wolf, there wasn’t an opportunity. I was planning to go there this week, but…”