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I’d love to say I’m excited when I step off the private jet, the New York cityscape standing tall around me, but all I feel is disdain and longing.
Longing for the woman who should still be by my side but lost back in Arizona because my manager thought he could control my life. I’ve never been as upset with Mack as I am the moment I step onto the fresh pavement.
Brent lifts from the back of an SUV, a sad smile offered at me as he makes his way over, and although I’d love nothing more than to smile back, I can’t bring myself to do it. He pulls me into a quick hug with one arm, clapping my back playfully as he pulls away, and then he leads me toward the waiting vehicle.
I stop short, desperate to know if I’m going to have a confrontation with Mack right this second, and Brent seems to realize the lack of my presence beside him as he comes to a stop as well. He arches a brow, asking me a silent question, and I glare at the back of the SUV without saying a word.
Brent sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and then shakes his head. “He’s not here, said he would meet us at the penthouse because he’s in the middle of something else.”
Since becoming our manager, our band isn’t the only one Mack has gotten to manage. I’m not going to lie and say he’s a terrible employee or does a terrible job with us, but he’s shown me his true self, the need he has to control us in a way I don’t appreciate.
With Wren’s career, I understood why she needed to be fired as my wellness coach and sent away, but for him to have been keeping tabs on me the way he was? That’s unacceptable and only makes me wonder how much he’s done it to the rest of us behind our backs.
I can’t take the chance that he’s also doing the same to Brent and Evan.
“Cool,” I mumble, then continue my slow pace toward the car.
Hearing the horns honking throughout the city used to be what I loved most, but it only reminds me that I’m not close to Wren anymore. I may never be again if Mack gets his way – which he won’t.
I’ve had an entire plane ride to decide what I’m going to do, and I’ve got a feeling that not a single person is going to like it.
Brent clears his throat when we slip into the back seat and shut our doors. “So, wanna talk to me about what’s going on, man?”
This is my best friend. I should be ecstatic to tell him everything, but forming the words he wants to hear is only going to make me feel worse, so I shake my head instead. If he wants to know what’s going on, he can hear me say my piece to Mack back at the penthouse.
The closer we get to our place, the more I wish I’d stayed back in Arizona.
Mack wasn’t giving me a choice any longer, though – either I was getting on the private jet as soon as it landed, or he’d come down himself and ruin Wren’s life. I'm not sure what the ethics are on that, but I was too depleted from Wren’s departure to test Mack with his threat.
After being able to think long and hard about all the time I spent in Arizona, especially with Wren, I’ve come to a very clear conclusion that everyone needs to hear at once. One that could change the way they look at me.
“You should talk to someone about it,” Brent says softly next to me as we make the turn onto our street. “I’ve always been here for you, man, you know that. Whatever you say to me, I won’t tell another soul.”
“I fell in love with her,” I grind out.
He blinks, silently observing me for any signs of lying, and I cock a brow at him before pushing out of the car before it’s even parked. “Happy?”
That’s a question more voiced to myself since Brent is still frozen in the back seat, but it doesn’t take long for him to come rushing after me and pulling me to a stop.
“What do you mean?”
“My wellness coach,” I say. “I fell in love with her.”
“You’re bonded to her. That’s all this is, man.”
I blink and glare at him. “Is that what Mack is trying to convince everyone? That she bonded with me, then took advantage of my emotional state?”
When Brent doesn’t give me an answer, I know I’ve hit the nail on the head, and that forces anger to burn up inside of me. Without another word, I storm through the front entrance of the complex without sparing a glance at anyone else walking by, then punch the elevator button like it did something wrong to me.
“Ryker, man, I don’t think he meant anything wrong by it.”
I scoff and glance at my best friend. “You sure about that?”
“I’m sure he’ll explain everything when he meets with us, we’ve got a lot to discuss and that includes when we can start the tour back up.”
I’m beyond stressed at this point, getting burnt out and I’ve barely been back in the city. The last thing I want to be worrying about right now is when we are going on tour, how long we’ll be on it, or the many cities we’ll be visiting along the way.
I don’t want to deal with overly eager fans trying to claw their way toward us, knowing that none of them are who I want to be touching me in the first place.
