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  “Oh.” Frustrated by how quickly the conversation has turned comfortable, I redirect back to the issue at hand. “Can I ask why you’re at my table?”

  “We need coffee.” Rey shrugs.

  “At my table, though?”

  “Figured we got off on the wrong foot.” He wrinkles his nose. It’s cute. No it’s not. Focus, Tab.

  “Can’t blame me for that.” I take a nonchalant sip of my coffee… and promptly choke on a bubble of foam that gets stuck on the roof of my mouth near my throat. Slick.

  “Can’t blame us, either,” Rey retorts.

  It’s okay, asshole. I don’t need a pat on the back or anything. Just unable to breathe for a beat there, but you just take it easy, okay?

  “Rick organized the whole thing,” he finishes, unfazed by the tears teetering on the rims of my eyes.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, Kris. I am now. Thanks.” I wipe the moisture away before I end up looking bat-shit crazy with mascara down my face.

  “Where you from?”

  “Pardon?” I glare at Rey.

  “Your accent. You’re not American.”

  I give the muppet a slow clap.

  His nostrils flare when a few customers look across at our table. “Are you Austral—”

  I lift a palm to stop him. “Don’t say it.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t you dare assume I’m Australian. There’s more than one country down there, you know.”

  He stares at me, blank. Fuck my life.

  “Kris, help him out here.” I down the last of my coffee.

  “New Zealand,” he murmurs to Rey.

  “Oh.” His face stays blank as a clean slate.

  “You’ve heard of it, right?” I ask.

  “Of course I have,” he scoffs.

  “But you didn’t know where it was.”

  He smiles, and damn it all if that doesn’t make me do so too. Stay strong. I can’t fawn over this guy like every other female on the planet, not when my objective is to make his life hell. Not that I know how I’m going to do that just yet.

  “Geography was never my thing,” he explains as Kendall brings their drinks over.

  She sets Rey’s down first, and then throws me a sneaky look behind his back before setting Kris’s before him.

  “Later,” I mouth while both boys are distracted adding sugar.

  She gives me her don’t test me eye, and then leaves.

  “Well,” I announce, pushing my empty cup to the middle of the table. “This has been swell, guys, but I really must press on.”

  I get halfway to my feet before a strong hand to my thigh shunts me back in the chair. Holy hell, that was intense.

  “Sit.” Rey stirs his coffee, eyes on the amber swirl. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

  Kris shrugs and then promptly lifts his drink as though I haven’t just been ordered around like one of their staff.

  “Last I checked,” I say, “I’m free to leave when I want.”

  “Guess you got it wrong, then.” He lifts both eyebrows before shifting his dark eyes toward me. “How many tickets had you sold?”

  “A bit over one hundred.”

  I avoid his gaze, waiting on the laugh that’s sure to follow.

  “How many over?”

  To my surprise Rey watches me intently, eager for my answer.

  “Nine. I sold one more right before you officially dropped the anvil on my dreams.”

  He frowns at my sarcastic smile, and then looks toward Kris. “Rick said he left the top empty, huh?”

  “I think so.”

  “Cool.” Rey rolls his lips, seeming to think something over. “I’m sure we could swing it.”

  “Swing what?” Kris frowns.

  “Yeah. What?” I settle back into my seat.

  “Don’t you worry yourself, little lady.” He reaches out and bops his index finger on the tip of my nose. “I’ve got you covered.”

  FIVE

  Rey

  “Still Counting” - Volbeat

  Rick drops his feet off the coffee table as I walk into the hotel room, Kris in tow. Our new buddy, Pete, gives a mock salute before shutting the door behind us as he leaves.

  “Got a job for you, Momma’s boy.” This shit is going to be epic.

  Rick straightens in his seat, arm slung over the back as I toss the napkin down on the table.

  “Ring this guy. Like, now. And make sure Tabitha’s tickets don’t get refunded.”

  “Um. Why?” He leans forward to retrieve the number Tabby wrote down for me.

  Yeah. I know she said not to call her that, but damn. Meow. Hot little thing suits it.

  “She’s opening for us.” And proving my point while she’s at it.

  “Uh, Rey,” Kris murmurs, “you never told her that.”

  I throw my hand up in a mock pistol at him. “That’s because she would have said no.” I bop the thumb hammer.

  “She’s kind of a key ingredient, if you could even pull the whole thing off.”

  “Pull what off?” Toby wanders into the room, shirtless and barefoot.

  The man would get around nude if he had half the chance.

  “Little Tabby-cat is opening for us. That way she gets her concert, and we do this publicity thingamajig for the fans.” I give him a wicked smile. “And when our fans boo her Beethoven-loving ass off the stage, then we get free entertainment too.”

  “You’re an asshole.” He frowns. “What does she play exactly?”

  “Violin,” Kris mumbles.

  “Vi-what?” Toby laughs. “Violin and rock? Mm-kay. I can see why you think this would be a disaster.” He lifts an eyebrow and wanders over to where Rick frowns at his phone. “What does Daddy say about this?”

  “He doesn’t know yet,” Rick answers absently, thumb tapping the screen. “He’s about to find out… now.” He beats the screen with finality and tosses his phone down.

  I retrieve it and throw it back in his lap. “Ring the publicist dude. Now.”

  “I need the go-ahead before I can jack something like this up,” Rick protests. “I can’t just change everything on a whim.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “There are things you need to do first. Rules to follow.”

  “Fuck rules.” Since when have we got anywhere by obeying the rules? “Just call the guy and get him to hold off on canceling everything in the very least, okay?”

  “Rey, man?”

  “What?” I snap my gaze to Toby.

  “What does it matter if it’s canceled? She’ll get another spot. If you’re doing this just to fuck with her—”

  “Place is booked for three months, or some shit,” Kris explains as he pops his earbuds in. “She needs the cash before then.”

  “How do you two know all this?” Toby drops onto the arm of the seat beside Rick.

  “We had a chat.” I shrug, turning for the mini bar. “Just ring that fucker, Rick, and let me know what your old man says when you get a reply.”

  I reach over and snag a whiskey, thankful the assholes in this pricey place include full-size bottles, and head for the balcony. Toby skids between the door and me, bare feet grazing over the plush carpet.

  “Nope.”

  “What the hell, man?”

  He bars the slider with his arm. “Last time you went out on a balcony to drink, you tried to jump off it.”

  “I was in a dark place,” I level. “Now move.”

  “Mm-mm.” He shakes his head. “How do I know you’re not in a dark place now?”

  I stare at the well-meaning asshole impassively. “Because I haven’t just finished writing lyrics for an album. I’ve had a break already.”

  “A few months.” He stays rooted to the spot. “Is that enough?”

  “If I wanted to jump, I’d do it when none of you cunts are here to stop me.”

  “Good to know.” He lifts both eyebrows and snaps his fingers to get Kris’s attention. “We’re on Rey-w
atch.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter, man. Now move. I’m dying for a fucking cigarette.”

  “I’ll join you then.” Toby twists and opens the slider, gesturing for me to go first. “And for the record, we’re not babysitters—we’re caregivers.”

  “So much better.” I roll my eyes as I set the bottle on the small table and retrieve my smokes.

  “Plus,” he continues, “you bite the big one and we all suffer. Can’t play a fucking set without our singer, can we?”

  “Kris can sing,” I point out as I spark my stick.

  Toby grins. “He won’t fucking speak up around us, let alone do a goddamn solo interview. And you think he’d stand in front of five thousand people and sing?”

  “Turn all the lights off.” I point my smoke at him. “He sings in the dark. You’ve heard him, right?”

  Toby nods.

  The slider scuffs as it opens, Rick poking his head out. “Dad wants numbers.”

  “Numbers for what?” Toby asks.

  “And for fuck’s sake,” I add, “call him Wallace. It’s just fucked when you call him dad with us.”

  “Wallace sounds weird, though.” Rick curls his lip.

  “Dad sounds like we’re playing a concert in your garage.”

  He tips his head in assent. “I guess.”

  “Numbers for what?” Toby repeats.

  “Oh.” Rick checks the message on his phone. “How many tickets she’d sold.”

  “One hundred.” I drag the smoke almost to the filter.

  “Thanks.” Rick shuts the door behind him, tapping as he walks away.

  Kris sits in the distance, head over the back of the sofa as he loses himself in the playlist. It’s a ritual of his: listen to our set list in order three times each day before the show so he doesn’t feel as though he’ll fuck it up on stage. Anxiety. Fuck knows how the asshole functions some days.

  Still—he’s killer with an axe, and that’s what matters most.

  “Why you doing this?” Toby eyes me as he turns the bottle on the table between his pinched fingers. “When are you going to start giving a fuck about the people you trample on to get where you are?”

  “Ouch, bro.”

  “I’m serious.” He cocks an eyebrow. “If there’s one thing that’s kept me busy in our journey to where we are, it’s making sure you don’t stick your neck out a little too far. You’re an arrogant asshole man.” He smirks. “Said in the most loving way.”

  “Compliment taken,” I murmur, giving him the side eye. “Somebody in the family had to be the jackass so you’d get all the charm.” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why I’m doing it though.” I tap the end of my cigarette and watch as the last of the ash falls to the balcony floor. “She just….” I shrug. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Truth is, I don’t know. Not like she’s done anything to me to deserve it. I just have an inane need to prove that my epic music is what the people want, not her vintage bullshit.

  “Buddy.” Toby punches me in the arm as I swipe up the bottle of liquor. “Everything matters when it comes to you.”

  “What you trying to say?” I tease, opening the sliding door.

  “You’re high maintenance, man. Fucking high maintenance.” He smirks. “You’re lucky we’re related, otherwise I probably would have told your diva ass to get fucked years ago.”

  “I’m the lead, brother. It’s in my job description to be a diva.”

  “Lucky it comes naturally then, huh?”

  SIX

  Tabitha

  “Enemies” - Shinedown

  The number displayed on my phone’s calculator taunts me with its three figures. I worked out what would be brought in from the ticket sales, took the expenses off, and then subtracted John’s share to find what I would have earned out of this show.

  I couldn’t even make it into the thousands.

  Fucking Dark Tide would probably be able to sell an empty toilet roll for a grand. Bastards. At least if they do what I’m guessing Rey plans to, it won’t put them out much to reimburse me lost earnings.

  “What are you doing?” Kendall snatches my phone from my grasp, leaving it on the counter where she enters the kitchen. “Put this fucking thing away for a bit.”

  “I could have been sending an important email, you know.” I reach for the device, only to have her slap my hand away.

  “You were in the calculator. Again.”

  “So?”

  “So stop pining over the money you don’t have, and focus on earning the real thing.”

  I glare at her as she pulls yoghurt from the fridge. She makes it sound so easy. “That concert would have been the real thing.”

  “But it’s not, so face forward and work on the next gig.”

  She means well, but, “Are you always this bitter in the morning, or is it just because you haven’t had coffee yet?”

  Her lips curl on one side as she pours the yoghurt into a bowl. “I’m dishing out tough love, babe. You shouldn’t sulk about what you can’t change. Didn’t you tell me that John said he would have fixed things if it were possible? You had your fun with the rock star guy, now leave him to be an entitled douchebag and rise above.”

  Fuck’s sake. She’s right, but I’m not ready to “rise above” yet. I want to wallow in my anger and bitterness a little longer.

  “We’re going out today.” Kendall shovels a spoonful of creamy mixture in her mouth.

  I lean over and replace the lid on the container, and then slide off the barstool to take it back to the fridge for her. “Where?”

  “I dunno,” she mumbles around a mouthful before swallowing. “We’ll go sit at the mall and try to guess what people are there to buy.”

  As much as the thought of our favorite cost-free pastime makes me smile, I shake my head and face her with a lifeless stare. “I’d rather hang out and binge whatever’s on TV.”

  “Nope.” She finishes her last mouthful. “Not having it.”

  “We’re broke, Kendall. What the fuck do you propose we do?”

  Her eyes light up, and I just know it’s going to be insane, whatever she thinks.

  “We’ll go stalk your band buddies.”

  “Ugh. No. I did that yesterday, and it backfired.”

  Her nose crinkles. “Then we do it better. I didn’t say we’d do it to get revenge on them like you wanted to, anyway. We’re doing it purely because we’re bored, you need to get out of the house, and I think they’re fucking sexy.” She bites her bottom lip before adding, “Especially that quiet one.”

  “I think he’s socially stunted or something.” I drop my head back with a groan, staring up at the watermarked ceiling. “We’re not doing it, okay? The sight of them is liable to make me murderous. Besides, didn’t you just tell me, like a second ago, to leave them alone?”

  “I said to leave that Rey guy alone, not all of them.” She rolls her eyes. “Fine. We can go see if that cute guy is working the panini stand at the park today.”

  “Why does every plan of yours involve going out, and men?”

  She looks at me wide-eyed as though the answer is obvious. “Vitamin D is good for you, babe. So is admiring hot guys.”

  “For you maybe.” I shoot her a displeased frown and trudge from the room. “How long do I have?”

  “Half an hour.” She sidesteps to see me down the hallway. “Put something short and sexy on.”

  “Short how?” I holler back as I step into my bombsite of a room.

  “I don’t care. Short top, short skirt, short shorts: whatever makes you irresistible. We’ll see if we can get free paninis.”

  “Kendall,” I whine, flopping onto my bed face-first. “Why? Why do you do this to me?”

  She startles the fuck out of me when she speaks from my doorway. “Because you’re young, you’re pretty, and its just downright sad watching you waste away like a bitter old spinster.”

  “I like being a spinster,” I groan into the bedding. “Let me wallow in
my self-pity.”

  She takes hold of my arm and rolls me over. “Harden the fuck up, princess.”

  “Your hands are like goddamn ice.” I swat them away, fending off the slouch top she tosses at me.

  “Put that on. And your faux-leather booty shorts. Sexy, yet demure. You can’t go wrong with that.”

  Ugh.

  I emerge from my room fifteen minutes later to a dissatisfied sigh from Kendall. “What the fuck is that?”

  “It’s comfort in troubling times, is what it is.” I readjust my baggy sweater so it covers my ass a bit more. “I have the shorts on. I compromised.”

  “You look like a hobo in those worn boots.”

  “And you look desperate,” I counter, gesturing to her tube top and tight skirt.

  She scowls, and then thrusts my phone at me. “You missed a call, little miss sunshine.”

  “How the hell did I not hear it?” I check the display to find John’s name.

  “You left it on silent.” Kendall snatches up her purse, and then steers me to the door with a hand on my shoulder. “Ring him on the way.”

  “Why?” I pocket the device and open the apartment door. “He probably wants to tell me when the next available booking is. I don’t want to know how far away it is, yet.”

  Yep. I’m still sulking. What of it?

  “You’re so fucking depressing,” Kendall moans as she locks the door behind us. “You need to lighten up.”

  “Give me reason to.”

  As though on cue, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I slide it out and pick up John’s call before it goes to voice mail again. “Hey.”

  “Good. I got you this time.”

  “Why? What’s the urgency?” I sass.

  Kendall leads us out onto the street while I talk.

  “Tell me you’re still in the city,” John asks.

  “I’m still in the city.”

  He sighs at my smart-ass response. “Are you really?”

  “Yes.” I roll my eyes as we turn right and head downtown. “Why?”

  “You’re still on.”

  I halt, earning a frown from Kendall. “I’m what?”

  “You’re still playing.” He can barely contain his excitement.

  “Stop fucking with me, John. When? When am I playing?”