Page 62 of Rising Star

Madison would have no choice but to hear me out—I had given her enough time and space—and to face the music and everything it meant to be in a relationship with me. I took care of the people I loved. No exceptions.

Enough was enough.

My own temper agreed with me. And my daughters probably did too. Mikaella told me this morning I was back to being grinchy and that she missed her cheery daddy.

Justine had called me a mad-mad-mad daddy last week after I broke a glass and was tempted to storm out.

When I landed home, I would take Madison on a date and shower her with love and hope she’d reconsider her stance on keeping me at a distance.

And that she would open her heart to me. She was struggling. And keeping it inside and being angry with everyone wouldn’t fix anything. I was aware. I was that guy. She saved me. It was my turn to save her from her demons.

When I confided in Riley, he told me to be patient. Well, my patience came with an expiration date. The more space Madison and I put between us, the more restless I became.

That had to stop. Right about now.

Storming out of the stage, I handed my guitar to a technician, chugged down a bottle of water, and wiped my forehead with a towel. People came to shake my hands and congratulated me, but I blocked the noise. I didn’t deserve the recognition. Or the accolades. I didn’t deliver what the crowd expected tonight. I was haunted. Angry. And sad. And it showed. The critics would agree.

“What was that?” Riley asked, cornering me as I stalked toward the dressing room, ripping my shirt open, my flesh on fire and my throat dry. His presence cut short my spiraling train of thought.

I waved my hand, dismissing him. My tone clipped and my words rugged. “Not now.”

“Stevens. Stop.” It wasn’t a demand but an order. I kept walking. “At this instant, it’s not your manager talking, it’s your friend. Even though the manager in me should have a talk with his artist right the fuck now.”

I swiveled on my heels. “What? You wanna tell me I was a mess up there? I’m aware. No need to remind me.”

His palm closed on my shoulder, but I jerked it off. “Talk to me.”

“No.” I clenched and unclenched my hands at my sides. “What’s the point?”

Fury blurred my vision. Black dots danced before my eyes.

“She’s too far away. It weighs on me, man. I’m trying here. Real fucking hard. She refuses I fly down to see her. The kids are asking for her too. What if she changes her mind? What if she has no intention of ever letting me in again? What if the accident fucked us up?”

“Stevens.” Riley’s annoyance had decreased a notch. “It’s just a bump on the road. You two will be fine. Give her more time to heal. The accident didn’t just crush her leg. It crushed her spirit too.”

“I sound like a jerk. I know I do. But I can’t help it,” I said. “I’m back to my broody ways. My kids are sad too. We’re all missing her. She makes us better. She makes me better. She makes the entire fucking world better.”

“Sam, you don’t have a show tomorrow. Let’s go out.”

“Not in the mood,” I barked.

“It wasn’t a request.” And those words shut me up.

We went back to the buses, and after I showered and drowned some of my rage away, my friend joined me. His feet hadn’t even connected with the floor when Riley slid a whiskey bottle into my hand. “Nick’s private label. He and Dahlia gifted it to me on my birthday. Great stuff. The girls are asleep on my bus. Drink this, and we’ll go out, get shitfaced. Like old times. It’s been a while, and I could use the stress release too.”

I nodded. What else could I do?

“Devon is okay with that?”

“Yes,” my friend said. “She’s happy to have the girls over. She’s the one who spoke to Doris and offered to take over the whole today. They had a spa day, did the school stuff Maddie had left behind, and created their own pizzas for dinner. They’re more than fine.”

“You two should be parents. It suits you both.”

He snickered. “Yeah. Maybe. We’ve talked about it. Your kids are growing on us, man. We’ll see. I want to propose first. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it right.”

“You’re lucky. Dev is perfect for you.”

I didn’t miss the irony of my own words as I spoke them out loud.