Page 4

FOUR

" W ell, you're officially clean," River says before stuffing her phone back into her pocket. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," I tell her.

Not that I was worried.

We ate at that restaurant around the corner, and then a black town car picked us up and took us back to the venue and the tour bus. Still confused about how or why all of this is happening, I follow River onto the bus. I'm met with a cloud of smoke, the distinct scent of marijuana hangs heavy in the air.

"Hey, everyone. Teagan's going to be hanging with us for a while," River tells the group. I recognize many of them from last night, but there are a couple of girls who don't look familiar. "You remember Hazel, Brady, and Layla," she says, pointing them out. Layla, who looked sad last night, looks sick now as she rests her head on Hazel's shoulder.

"We also call her Baby…because Layla is our baby," River says. "Although…I guess you're the baby now, aren't you, Teagan? I heard you were only twenty."

"Well, that's just great," Layla says, her tone heavy with irony. She laughs and looks at me with tears pooling in her eyes. "Now, I really am no one. Just one step closer to erasing me altogether."

She throws her hands up and storms off to the bus's upper level with River and Hazel trailing behind her, pleading with her to come back. I follow before a hand on my shoulder stops me.

"I wouldn't if I were you," Brady cautions. "Just let it go."

I don't listen, looking from the hand to Brady before continuing toward the staircase. Quietly, I climb just about halfway, stopping when I'm within earshot of their hushed voices.

"I'm sorry," Layla sobs. "I just…I feel like he's trying to get rid of me."

"No, Layla," Hazel says. "No one is going to get rid of you. You're family."

"But he's still so mad at me. He barely looks at me. I don't know what to do; I can't take it. And now…I think he's trying to replace me. With her."

"Layla, that's not true," River says. "You just need to be patient. Declan's just…testing you. You know how he is."

"Is she part of the test?"

"Honestly, I don't know," River tells her. "I don't think so. I think she's a test for Luca. But you know the house rules, Layla. We're all free. You can't react to her like this."

"I know," she says. "And I know it's not her fault. It's mine. And Alana—"

"No," Hazel stops her. "Alana didn't do anything, either. This is on you. You have to stop this. Go back downstairs and be nice. Smile tonight. Start living again. Remind him who you are and why he picked you. Maybe that's how you get through this; maybe that's what he wants."

"I don't think I can."

"Well…you have to try," Hazel says. "It's the only thing you haven't tried."

"Yeah," Layla says. "Yeah, you're right."

"Can we go back downstairs now?" Hazel asks.

I take that as my cue and backtrack down the staircase. I sit next to Brady, who looks at me and shakes his head. Across from me, two girls I haven't met light another joint.

"Hi," I say to them. "I'm Teag—"

"Oh, that's not necessary," Brady stops me.

The girls laugh a little, although I'm not sure why. I'm not sure they know why, either, but they go back to what they were doing and don't seem to care.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You don't need to know who they are," he explains. "They aren't family. We picked them up in L.A., and Declan has a strict two-stop rule for non-family members. They'll be hitchhiking home or doing who the fuck knows what after tonight. They definitely won't be coming home with us."

I wonder if this counts as my first or second stop on the tour. I drove my own ass up here, so surely, it's the first. But…

"Home?"

He nods. "The next stop on the tour isn't until Thursday night in Seattle. After the show, we're going home to Coeur d'Alene. It's about a fifteen-hour drive, so we'll probably get there in the evening, depending on when we leave."

"Are they going to take me?"

He raises an eyebrow. "He took your blood, didn't he?"

"Yeah…"

"I'd say yes, then," Brady says. "But get ready. Home isn't for the weak."

"What does that mean?"

"We're back," River interrupts before he can answer. "You can put your stuff in our room, Teagan. Come on."

I follow her to a cabin on the first floor near the end of the bus. There's a full-sized bed and just enough room to walk around. Everything inside is red, black, and gold, just like the main living area of the cabin.

"You can throw your bag wherever," she says, then points to the back corner of the room. "There's a teeny tiny bathroom and shower behind that door, an overflowing closet behind that one, and that's pretty much the whole tour. We're going to be nice and cozy in here."

"It's fine," I tell her. "I'm used to small spaces."

"We need to go in, Riv," Hazel says from the doorway. "They're going to be taking the stage soon."

"Oh, shit," River says, then looks back to me. "Let's go."

Hazel takes River's hand, lacing their fingers together before pulling her into her body. "I missed you today," she tells her.

"I missed you, too," River says.

Then, she backs her into the door frame, pressing her body against hers. I watch as she leans in, her pierced tongue running along River's lower lip before she opens, letting her into her mouth. Hazel moans, gripping River by the hips as she tugs on her lip with her teeth.

The pink-haired girl leans in and whispers something into River's ear, sliding her hand up the back of her skirt. She smiles and laughs before she breaks away.

"Come on, Teagan."

With her free hand, she takes mine, and the three of us walk past a security guard and through the back door of the dark venue.

At the end of the hall, we slip into a small lounge just as Luca walks out.

"Hey, no way," he says when he sees me. "You made it."

"Yeah, I—"

"Nope," River says, stepping between us. Though slightly taller than me, her very thin build makes her seem much smaller. It's almost comical watching her scold the 6'1" tattooed giant, even putting her hand over his mouth. "Don't talk to her. Declan said she's not allowed to talk to you or touch you, or she has to go. I don't want that, and neither do you, so go away."

"Whaaat?" he says, shaking her off. "That's bullshit."

She shrugs. "I don't make the rules."

"Whatever. We'll see about that. A little taste never hurt anyone, right?" he says, winking at me.

So, he did read my message. I smile and give him a slight nod.

"I'm serious, Luca," River says. "I wouldn't test him right now."

"I wasn't talking to her; I was talking to you," he says. "Teagan looks very sexy tonight, River. I'd rip her clothes off with my teeth if I could. I bet you would, too, wouldn't you?"

"I'm not answering that," she says, ushering me further into the room. "Go away."

Inside the small room, there's a minibar and some dark leather furniture. Layla sits on a sofa next to the two girls whose names I was told I don't need to know. She's talking with them—perhaps trying her best to be happy—but I can see in her eyes that she's still upset. I make a mental note to try to get close to her, to try to get her alone and figure out what she did that upset Declan so much and why he would be punishing her.

Punishments, tests, timeouts. Is this what Declan does to his family? Is that what really happened to those girls?

Alana, the girl Declan was with last night—the one that he cut during the show—lies across the loveseat with her feet in Brady's lap while he massages her legs. She has bandages around both of her wrists and a cocktail of some sort in her other hand.

"Hey! Teagan!" she says cheerfully enough to make me think she must already be drunk. "Welcome to the mother fucking party."

"Thanks. Alana, right?"

"The one and only," she says, draining the contents of her glass.

"Do you want a drink?" River asks. "I can make you something. We have maybe fifteen minutes."

I don't know that I've ever needed a drink more in my entire fucking life.

"I can make it myself," I say, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the center of the table. "See? I just made it." I remove the cap and bring it to my mouth, swallowing a few times as it burns the back of my throat.

"I think I'm in love," she says, taking the bottle from me and doing the same.

"Hazel," a deep voice bellows. Declan stands in the doorway wearing a pair of tight, shredded jeans and a black v-neck shirt with his arms crossed in front of him. His presence is heavy, oppressive even. The entire room reacts to it. I wait for him to see me, to acknowledge me in some way—after all, he broke into my hotel this afternoon, and I'm here because of him, aren't I? But he doesn't seem to notice; if he does, he certainly doesn't react.

It bothers me.

I remind myself that I'm not here for Declan's attention—that I don't want it. But he has mine right now, just like he has theirs. My eyes make their way over his biceps, his chest, and up to his perfectly angled jaw.

"Yes, Daddy?" Hazel replies.

"Come," he says. He turns and leaves the room without waiting for her, and she stands and quickly follows.

"What was that about?" I whisper to River.

"Declan likes her tongue ring, too," she says.

"I'm pretty sure he hates me. He's been fucking awful—"

She whips her head around, her blue eyes darken with anger as her bubbly, easygoing demeanor dissipates as if a switch has been flipped. "Don't," she says through clenched teeth.

Taken aback, I struggle to find the words for a few seconds. "I'm…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…to…"

But what did I not mean to do?

"He's taken you in, hasn't he?" she asks. I'm not sure how to respond because I'm not sure that's what's happening. I didn't ask to be taken in. "He brought you here; he's giving you a chance. And if he's doing that, it's for a reason, and you have to earn it. You should be more grateful."

"I'm…so sorry. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. I'm just confused. That's all."

I watch as she takes a few deep breaths, attempting to calm herself. "Can I have that back?" she asks softly.

I realize she's talking about the vodka and wordlessly hand it to her.

She takes a long pull from the bottle, then says, "I'm sorry. You're still learning the rules here. We don't talk about each other like that. And there's no fighting either, so…I'm sorry, too."

"It was my fault. And I don't think we were really fighting, so it's okay. I didn't mean to offend you. I just want to understand him. You say you're a family, and you all love him. He just seems really hard to get to know."

"That's fair," she says. "He is very guarded. He doesn't even fuck the bloodsluts. He's very particular about who he lets in. That's what makes it so special when he does choose you. There's just something about him, you know? He is light."

How the fuck am I supposed to respond to that? This girl really drank the Kool-Aid. She's talking about this rockstar like he's a god or something.

I'm starting to realize that—for them—he is.

"That makes sense," I tell her. Even though it doesn't make any goddamn sense at all.

"Time to go," Brady says as he and Alana pass us on their way out of the room.

She smiles. "We need to get out there, too. Let's go."

As we leave, River looks back and notices Layla still on the sofa alone, staring blankly at the wall. "Baby?" River calls.

The girl doesn't respond.

River walks over to her and places a hand on her cheek. "Baby Layla, it's starting soon. We need to go out there."

"Okay," she says, slowly pulling herself to her feet.

River guides her out the door in front of us. "Remember, Layla. You need to smile, be yourself. Be grateful."

"I know," Layla says.

She turns back to me, adding quietly enough that Layla can't hear it as we make our way down the dark hallway, "And as you can see, it makes it that much harder when he takes it back."

I don't know what she means, but I nod as if I do and try to piece it together as we push our way through the crowd and down to a roped-off section at the front-center stage marked "Reserved." A security guard moves it aside for us just as the lights go down and Luca strums a few notes on his guitar in the darkness. It's silent again for a few seconds before the venue erupts in cheers, waiting.

For him.

A spotlight illuminates the space, settling on Declan with his microphone at center stage.

"I knew when we met, you'd be my demise," he sings the first line of the song, pausing for applause before the band joins him.

"With my last breath I'll whisper your name to the skies

It wasn't you, it wasn't me It was us in this thing It was electric, but we knew what it would bring

And so it ends with a whisper She drew blood when I kissed her

He smiles—or something like it—and then runs his hand through his dark hair, beads of sweat already forming on his brow as he belts out the lyrics under the spotlight. In person, he's cold, closed off. He's an untouchable enigma, barely human among the rest of us, operating seemingly without emotion and solely on instinct and yet somehow in complete control of everything and everyone around him. On stage, he's something entirely different. He's electric; he's fire. He's the sun, using his gravitational pull on everyone around them, and they have no choice but to stay there in his orbit or freeze. He makes it seem like you could touch him if you wanted to. If he'd let you.

And suddenly, I get it. I know what River meant in the hallway.

It makes it that much harder when he takes it back.

I scan the group, looking for Layla, who stands at Hazel's side, cheering and singing along with the lyrics, even though it's obvious she's still suffering.

His light. That's what she was talking about. Layla did something—broke some rule—and she lost it.

And it's killing her.