Page 8 of Edge of Heaven (Crimson Edge #2)

Mick

“I don’t care if you feel special or not. Those are my terms. You’re free to leave any time you like.”

I’m just coming around the corner to go find a bathroom when I hear Callum and Taryn arguing.

A moment later, he brushes past me, doing something on his phone.

What a dick.

I slowly peek around the corner and spot Taryn.

She’s leaning against the wall, eyes closed, so much distress on her face I can’t help but approach her.

“Hey.”

Her eyes pop open but she doesn’t move. It’s like she’s rooted in place, big blue eyes brimming with tears.

“You okay?” I ask softly.

“Yeah.” She swallows.

We both know that’s a lie.

“You don’t look okay.”

“How do I look?” she asks.

“Sad. Resigned. Worn out.”

“I guess those are all fair descriptions.”

“What’s going on, Taryn? This isn’t like you.”

“You’re sweet, Mick, but I’m not the same girl I was four years ago.”

“Of course not. I’m not exactly the same either, but I think we’re still the same people at our core. At least, I am.”

“You have no idea what’s been going on in my life.”

“So tell me.”

She doesn’t respond as she looks away.

“Your secrets are safe with me,” I say quietly. “I promise.”

A tiny smile plays on her mouth. “Thank you. I wish we could hang out more, but you know he’ll freak if he sees us talking for more than a minute.”

“He’ll be on stage soon, and then he won’t have time to think about where you are or who you’re talking to. I’ll wait for you out back, near the loading docks. Like we talked about—we’ll have about ninety minutes.”

She seems to consider it.

“Come on… we don’t have to talk about anything serious if it upsets you. We can just hang out and relax. We never had trouble talking before.”

“That’s true.” She seems to be thinking about what to say next but then nods. “Okay. I’d like that.”

“Great. I’ll see you in a few.”

“Mick?” She calls to me as I turn to go, and I glance back at her.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t, uh, don’t tell anyone, okay? The less people that know we’re friends, the less chance there is of Callum finding out. He’s jealous as hell, and he’s always watching. It will just make things harder on me.”

I have a thousand questions about why she’d put up with that, but I keep them to myself. She’ll open up when she’s ready. At least, I hope so.

“My lips are sealed,” I say.

Then I continue down the hall without looking back.

I’m on dangerous ground with this situation.

I’ve never been the kind of guy who likes sneaking around or going after another guy’s girl—but something about Callum and Taryn’s relationship is off. Not just because he doesn’t treat her well but also because she seems almost desperate. Scared .

She’s afraid of something, and I’m pretty sure it’s him.

A long time ago, he and I nearly came to blows in a bar.

I don’t remember who the girl was, but I saw her standing at the bar by herself looking a little forlorn, so I started talking to her.

Turned out she was his girlfriend, and Callum nearly lost his mind.

I’m not afraid of the guy, but he’s bigger than I am, and a lot meaner.

Luckily, things didn’t escalate too badly—thanks to his girlfriend sticking up for me—but I never forgot the wild look in his eyes.

Like someone who gets off on hurting people.

With that in mind, there’s no universe where I don’t step in when someone I care about—especially if that someone is Taryn—is in trouble.

I don’t know if there’s anything I can do, but I’m sure as shit going to find out.

Even though I’m pretty sure it won’t end well.

Not for me, and probably not for my band either.

But I don’t care.

Some things are more important than others—and this is one of them.

* * *

I light a cigarette and hang out back near the bus.

Our crew is busy loading out, but most of Karnal Death’s crew is handling their show, which just started.

I don’t know why I’m getting involved in Taryn’s life, but since I can’t seem to help myself, I take a deep drag from the cigarette and blow rings as I exhale.

“It’s the twenty-first century,” Taryn says as she walks over to me, her legs a mile long in a skimpy little dress that leaves little to the imagination. “Hasn’t anyone told you how bad smoking is?”

I chuckle, trying not to stare at her legs. Or her tits. “I know, but I don’t have a lot of vices, so this feels like an innocent enough habit.”

“It’s not innocent at all. And it’s horrible for your lungs,” she says, plucking the cigarette from my fingers. But instead of throwing it away, the way I thought she would, she puts it between her lips and inhales deeply.

“I thought it wasn’t good for your lungs,” I point out when she’s done.

She just shrugs. “Do as I say, not as I do.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“I smoked when I first started modeling because it kept me from eating. I stopped because it is incredibly bad for us, but a drag now and then won’t kill me.” She proffers the butt, and I take it back.

“I used to smoke a pack a day, now it’s down to about two cigarettes a day. Usually right after a show. Sometimes on my days off I don’t smoke at all.”

“I’d probably start again but Callum can’t stand it, so I can’t.”

“Does he control everything you do?” I ask.

“Almost.”

“And you’re…happy?”

She snorts. “Not hardly—and don’t ask why I stay.”

“Why not?”

“Because the answer is…humiliating.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“You promised we didn’t have to talk about anything serious,” she murmurs.

I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone her secrets, but I don’t point that out. “I did. So, tell me something good in your life.”

She hesitates for what feels like a long time before she smiles. “Well, I have some modeling work coming up. Finally. And guess what? I’m doing another shoot for Rock Vibe.”

“That’s cool.” I grin. “I didn’t realize they were still in business.”

“They’re headquartered in New York City now, and I’ll be out there in a few weeks. You should have your agent reach out and see if they’re interested in you. It would be fun to work together again.”

I absently run a hand through my hair, which is shorter now, hanging just over my ears in the back and a little longer on top. “I’m not the stereotypical rocker anymore. My hair’s too short and, well, you know…”

“I don’t think there’s any such thing as a stereotypical rocker these days. Lots of rock stars have shorter hair now. Look at Adam Levine, Rob Thomas…even Chad Kroger.”

She has a point.

“The thing is, they’d have to work around the band’s schedule and also…” I hesitate, because there are parts of my life that are embarrassing too.

“Also?” she prompts, cocking her head.

“I can’t afford to fly to New York on my own dime.”

“Oh, they’re paying all my expenses. I’m sure they’d pay yours too.”

“I don’t even have a headshot anymore. That was really just a one-and-done deal. I’m not a model.”

“You could be.” She smiles. “You’re gorgeous, Mick. You know that.”

I shrug. “I’m okay. Not like you, though.”

“Stop. I’m nothing special.”

“I think you are.”

Her cheeks turn a faint pink as she dips her head. “Thank you.”

“I can’t be the first guy to tell you that,” I say.

She takes the cigarette from me and puts it between her lips, looking up at the sky as she inhales. “The first in…a long time.”

“Callum doesn’t tell you you’re beautiful?”

She actually laughs, though it doesn’t sound like she thinks it’s funny. “He barely talks to me, much less gives me compliments.”

Don’t ask.

Don’t ask.

Don’t ask.

“But why—” My mouth seems to have a mind of its own.

“Shh.” She puts a gentle finger on my lips. “Let’s just share a cigarette. Then I have to go back inside and stand on the side of the stage where he can see me. That’s what he expects.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I sputter. “It’s loud and there’s nowhere to sit…why do you have to stand there?”

“Because he wants me too.”

“That sounds selfish as fuck.”

“Ryleigh stands on the side of the stage for most of your shows.”

“Because she wants to, not because Angus demands it.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.” She pauses. “Didn’t your album hit gold?”

I nod.

“So how come you can’t afford to fly to New York?”

“Our deal with the record label was they absorbed all the start-up costs for both the album and the tour, and they would take back their money first, before we get any. And while those debts are just about paid, we haven’t sold enough to start making money, so we’re still living on per diems.”

“Ouch.”

“We’re either on the verge or hit platinum this month—the numbers aren’t reported yet—and when that happens, the money situation will change. In the meantime, it’s a little tight.”

“I hear that. Callum doesn’t like when I leave, so I can’t go to many castings. If I don’t go to castings, I don’t get work. Without work, I’m broke too. Which is part of the reason I’m in the situation I’m in.”

“That’s the reason you’re with Callum.”

Her face changes—hard and tight and a little bit angry—before she takes a final drag of the cigarette and then puts it out against the side of the building.

“We all do what we have to do to survive,” she says after a moment. “Don’t judge me, Mick.”

“Judge you?” I shake my head. “Is that what you think? That I’ll judge you?”

“Won’t you? I’m judging myself most days, so it stands to reason you would too.”

“That’s not who I am.” I reach out and gently lift her chin, forcing her to look at me. “You should know me better than that, and if you don’t, I’m telling you now. No judgment. I just want to be your friend. You seem to need one.”

She doesn’t respond, her eyes searching my face, as if she’s going to find the answer to something mystical there.

After a moment, she slowly backs away. “I have to go,” she whispers.

Then she hurries back inside, leaving me with more questions than I had before we talked.

And I have no idea if I just blew any chance of being her friend, much less anything else.