Sean

The scene on the red carpet in front of Benny Conner’s Brentwood mansion resembled a post-Grammy party, not the intimate meet and greet his PR team had described.

Flashbulbs lit up the night sky as I made my way down the rope line.

“Sean, turn to the left!”

“Sean, look over here!”

“Can you take off your glasses.”

I did as the reporters asked, but after foregoing sleep to spend more time with Anna, followed by a bumpy flight, then an accident on the 405, I was in no mood to deal with the press. So instead, I took my time with the crowd. This much fan presence wasn’t the norm, but I’d come to realize Conner Management had a method to their madness.

Since Caged was still in the courtship phase of our negotiations, our “spontaneous” appearance was calculated to gauge public interest.

It was a risk for Conner and all upside for Caged.

A favorable response assured our place on the bill, but a very favorable response gave the band a huge bargaining chip when it came to hashing out terms. And that’s all I cared about.

If I was going to tour for a year, I wanted assurances. Time off being chief among them. No adding shows to fill the gaps. And no jetting off for a movie premier just to up our visibility. Before I stepped on a plane, the calendar would have to be set in stone. Something tangible I could bring to Anna.

She didn’t trust me yet. But she loved me. I could feel her love in every touch and every smile. 

That thought had me grinning like a goofy bastard.

Until I spotted Logan sauntering toward me, Kimber Tyson at his side.

Logan and Kimber?

Oh, the irony.

My humor faded when he coaxed her toward me, passing her off like a football.

“What the hell?” My eyes bored into Logan’s as Kimber curved her arm around my waist.

“Have fun, kids.” Logan smiled as he backed away. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

And then he was gone, strolling toward the coveted position at the head of the line where a reporter from Rolling Stone waited.

Instinct kicked in, and I covered Kimber’s hand, hell bent on breaking free of her hold. But then pandemonium ensued, every reporter in the vicinity jockeying to get a shot of us.

I was trapped.

Pinning on a smile, I leaned close to Kimber’s ear. “You mind letting go of me, sugar? I’m working here.”

Flashing a row of perfect veneers, she said, “So am I.”

To prove the point, Kimber popped up to kiss me.

Molding a hand to her hip to thwart the effort, I held her in place. “Why the fuck do you keep showing up when you’re not invited?”

Kimber looked up at me with an adoring smile, but the affection didn’t touch her eyes. “Because we’ve both got big things to promote. And I was invited.”

Despite my efforts, the mask slipped, and I felt a scowl tugging my lips. Rather than lose my shit in front of everyone, I took Kimber by the arm and ushered her to the end of the rope line.

Stopping just out of earshot of the reporters, I glared down at her. “Who invited you?”

Away from the cameras, her smile withered. “It doesn’t matter. Besides, it’s not like it’s a hardship. We’ve always had a good time together.”

Kimber adjusted the strap on her dress, preparing for her next photo op. And I realized I was nothing more than a prop. Like her designer clutch and her thousand dollar shoes.

I was about to leave, when something caught Kimber’s attention. She turned on that megawatt grin and grabbed my hand.

Reflexively, I pulled away. “I thought I made it clear, sugar. I’m not interested.”

The warmth drained from Kimber’s eyes. I suspected it was reflected light, reserved for those who didn’t know her.

“Do you really think it matters if you’re interested?” she scoffed, her New Jersey accent bleeding through. “Stop being so naïve.”

Anger boiled under my skin, but I held my tongue. And then I walked away. Kimber called after me in that sugary sweet voice, but I was over it. Over her. And over this fucking party.

Spotting Ethan Bartell from Alternative Nation in the rope line, holding up a finger, I cringed inside.

“Sean!” He looked right at me. “A few words?”

Just walk away.

But I couldn’t. So I forced a smile and ambled over. “Sure, man. Fire away.”

He flipped to a blank page in the small notebook in his hand. “What can you tell us about the tour?” Ethan chuckled when I raised a brow. “Can’t blame me for trying, right?”

Caged was under strict orders to maintain radio silence. And of course, Ethan knew that.

I felt a hand on my back, and the reporter’s eyes lit up, a dimple winking from beneath his five o’clock shadow. “Kimber Tyson,” he drawled. “What brings you out tonight?”

She anchored herself to my side, gazing up at me with that fake-as-hell smile. “I’m here to support Sean.”

Catching her wrist in what probably appeared like an adoring gesture, I squeezed hard enough to get Kimber’s attention. “Why don’t you go get us a drink and let me take care of business. I’ll see you inside.”

Triumph sparkled in her sable gaze, and she skated a finger over my jaw. “Don’t be long, baby.”

Batting her eyelashes at Ethan’s cameraman, she paused long enough for him to get a shot of her good side before strutting away.

Ethan took in every last shake of her ass. “So, you and Kimber?” He grinned. “Together again, I see.”

I shook my head. “Nope. Just friends.”

Ethan’s attention returned to the door Kimber had just sashayed through. “I’d like to have a friend like that.”

I shrugged. “Be my guest. She didn’t come with me.”

“But I bet she’s leaving with you. Tough gig.”

Assessing me with cool, gray eyes, he gauged my reaction. And I realized this was what made Ethan one of the best in the business. His ability to cut through the bullshit.

So I gave him what he wanted. The truth. “Not my kind of gig, man. I’m just here to play a little music with my band. I got a girl.”

Ethan nodded slowly. “Care to spill any of the details?”

Anna’s face flashed in my mind. Her pretty smile. Those emerald green eyes. And then I thought of Willow and the hold Dean had over both of them. “I’d love to, but I can’t. Soon, though.”

With that promise in his pocket, Ethan pumped the breaks on his interrogation and turned his questions to our upcoming performance.

Slipping back into character, I did the song and dance, praising Benny and his management team while avoiding any mention of the tour.

Once the interview was wrapped, Ethen extended his hand. “Thanks, Sean.” He came in for a bro hug, and said quietly, “Keep me in mind for the exclusive when you make the tour announcement. And I’d love to hear a little more about your mystery girl.”

I clapped him on the back. “Sure thing.” 

After saying my goodbyes, I waved to the crowd and then marched straight to the staging area where the rest of the guys waited in front of the big Conner Productions sign. 

Throwing an arm around Logan’s shoulder, I snarled, “What the fuck was that all about?”

“Not now,” he replied through a pearly white smile. “Later.”

“Fuck your later.” My tone rose along with my frustration. “I want to know what you’re trying to prove.”

“Dude, I don’t have to prove anything.” Logan’s frosty eyes met mine, a caustic smile painting his lips. “Your arm around Kimber’s waist said it all.”

Applause and calls for an encore rang in the air as I pushed away from my kit. Ignoring the loudest request—from Benny’s table—I made a beeline for center stage and Logan.

My fingers curled around his upper arm. “It’s later.” 

He didn’t move, but his bicep twitched in warning. “Unless you want me to break that fucking hand, you’ll remove it.”

The crew for the next band took the stage, unplugging amps and tearing down equipment. Since the drums weren’t mine, I had nothing keeping me here except Logan and my fury.

An hour behind the drums should’ve burned off my anger, but if anything, I was more enraged.

Cameron forced his way between us, a fake laugh rumbling from his chest. “Whoa, what’s going on here?”

Logan snorted, then ran a hand through his hair. “Ask Romeo. I’ve got some business to attend to.”

He sauntered to Conner’s table, and the two men hugged it out like they were old friends.

Cameron raised his eyebrow at me in a silent question, then looked down at my hand, balled into a fist at my side.

Yeah, no. This wasn’t good. For any of us.

“I’m out,” I said. “See you at the shoot in the morning.”

Blind rage rolled through me as I elbowed my way through the crowd.

Get a grip.

Since the only thing I wanted to grip was Logan’s throat, I put my head down. When I ran straight into a warm body, I lifted my gaze to apologize and came face-to-face with Kimber.

“You ready, baby?” she purred.

She’d parked herself near a crowd at the door. Several people hovered nearby, holding drinks and feigning interest in their conversations, but really, their eyes and ears were on us.

Benny wasn’t the only fish in this pond. Representatives from our label, gossip columnists, bloggers—all the players were out tonight. 

I let out a slow breath. “I’m going back to the hotel. See you later.” 

Kimber grabbed my arm. “You read my mind.”

Lowering my voice, I tipped forward into her space. “Not going to happen, Kimber.” 

That triumphant smile I saw earlier curved her lips. She knew damn well I’d never mow her down with a camera crew mere feet away.

Pressing my lips together, I barreled out the door with Kimber in tow.

With my height advantage and her five-inch heels, I figured I’d lose her. But no, she matched me stride for stride.

At the edge of the long driveway, I came to an abrupt stop at the door to my limo.

Shaking Kimber’s arm off, I said, “Fun and games are over. Go back to the party. And take your cameras with you.” 

She fisted my shirt, hanging on for dear life as I planted one foot inside the car. 

“Fun and games.” Kimber licked her lips. “I like where you’re going with that.” 

When I didn’t respond, she dropped her hand along with the seduction façade. The lights from the video cameras went dark, and the head of her crew sighed in annoyance.

“This is going nowhere,” he said to Kimber. “I’m going back to get some interiors. See you in there?” 

She nodded, her eyes frigid.

As soon as the crew was out of earshot, she propped a hand on her hip. “Is there some reason you’re making this difficult?”

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I slid onto the leather seat. “There is no ‘this,’ sugar. Never will be.” 

Kimber grabbed the door. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“At the moment, you. Now step back.”

She searched my face, her eyes boring into mine. “You are an asshole, you know that?”

“Yep.”

I slammed the door on Kimber’s next insult. The driver met my gaze in the mirror. He wore and indifferent smile like he’d seen it all before. “Where to, sir?” 

I grabbed a bottle of Jack and an empty glass from the minibar. “Hotel.” 

Thirty minutes later, I exited the limo in front of the Chateau Marmont, the bottle of whiskey tucked under my arm.

Skirting the usual crowd of gawkers in the lobby, I stopped by the gift shop for a pack of smokes. And then I marched straight to my bungalow, through the cozy living room, and out the sliding glass door to the patio that connected Logan’s room with mine.

Sinking into one of the retro chic chairs, I lit my cigarette. My eyes closed as I rolled the smoke around my mouth. It tasted fucking awful in the best possible way. Like my best friend and worst enemy. I took a slug of whiskey to mute the flavor of ash on my tongue. And I waited.

Three hours later a light flicked on inside Logan’s bungalow.

A white cloud hung over my head from the dozen butts littering the ashtray.

Logan eyed me as he slid the heavy patio door across the track. And then without a word, he retreated, leaving the sheer curtain to flutter in the balmy California breeze.

I sucked down the last of the Jack, then jumped to my feet and stalked after him. “What the fuck is the matter with you?!”

Logan dropped his key on the table. “You want a beer?”

Lunging, I grabbed his collar. “Don’t fucking walk away from me. I asked you a question.”

Eyes on mine, Logan latched onto my wrist and twisted just enough to show me he wasn’t playing. “I ain’t walking away from nobody. I’m getting a beer. Do. You. Want. One?’

“Does it look like I’m here to socialize?”

Logan ambled to the fridge where he grabbed two bottles. 

Sliding a Pale Ale in front of me, he said, “I saw you leave with Kimber. Why the hell are you here?”

His fingers coiled tightly around the beer as he took a swallow. Yeah, he was ready to go. And I was just mad enough or drunk enough to unleash that part of him that might land me in the hospital.

Not that I couldn’t fight. Hell, I could brawl with the best of them. But Logan had trained at the feet of the master—his old man. Jake Cage was a mean son of a bitch with a foul temper. It took Logan seventeen years to best him, but I was there the night he did. 

A memory of Logan’s bloody face and vacant eyes stole some of my anger.

Ripping a hand through my hair, I dropped onto the barstool. “Kimber had a fucking camera crew with her. Did you realize that?” 

Logan leaned a hip against the counter. “So, did they cockblock you or is there a sex tape in the offing?” He smirked. “I’m guessing the former based on your temperament. Shake it off; there’s a lobby full of willing pussy downstairs.” 

My brows drew together. “I’m with Anna. You know that.”

Logan snorted. “That didn’t stop you from fucking Darcy, now did it?” 

Years’ worth of pent-up hostility and resentment shone in his eyes. Amazing that I’d never seen it before.

“That was a mistake.” 

Disgust curled Logan’s lip as he took another swallow. “Yeah, whatever.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrowed my gaze. “For someone who claims to care so much, it seems like you don’t give a shit if Anna gets hurt.”

Logan’s bottle met the bottom of the stainless-steel sink with a loud crash. “Don’t you fucking lecture me about hurting Anna. You disappeared for four fucking years, leaving her to raise a kid by herself.” He jabbed his finger into my chest. “You—not me.”

I searched his eyes, unflinching. “Did you know about my kid?”

“No, dude, I didn’t. But even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have said anything. You dumped Anna and never looked back. I don’t want to see the kid’s face when you decide to do it again.” 

Pain radiated up my arm when I landed the blow to Logan’s cheek. Surprisingly, the shot to his nose left only a slight tingling in my fingers. And the counter punch he landed on my mouth? I didn’t feel it at all. 

The blow stunned me, though, knocked me back, giving him enough time to charge. 

We tumbled to the ground, taking out the coffee table on our way down. 

Pinning me on the hardwood floor, Logan wedged his forearm against my windpipe. 

Kicking hard to gain purchase, I clawed at his arm. “Get the fuck off me!” I choked out.

“Now, now, you started it.” A maniacal smile spread across his lips as a thick scarlet stream dripped from his nostrils. “So why don’t you answer me a question: how bad you want me to hurt you?”

“Fuck you,” I spat, spewing droplets of blood onto his T-shirt. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Barking out a laugh, Logan rolled off me. “That’s cute. I think we both know that ain’t about to happen.”

Fighting to drag air into my burning lungs, I sat up.

On the other hand, Logan’s breathing remained slow and even, and despite the blood streaming freely from his nose and the gash on his cheek, he reclined on his elbows and stretched out like he was getting ready for a nap. 

“You know,” he began, “if a bloody nose or a black eye is what it’s gonna take to get you to listen, that’s fine.”

I wiped my lip on my shoulder, trying not to wince. “What makes you think I’d give two fucks about anything you’ve got to tell me?” 

Logan sighed. “’Cause I’m your best friend. And I know you. It’s not that I don’t think you’re going to step up and take care of the kid. That’s the easy part. You throw a couple of bucks her way, visit when you can—you’re golden. It’s the rest of it you’re gonna struggle with.”

Pain shot from my throbbing hand to my elbow as I flexed my fingers. “You don’t know that.” 

“I know what I saw. And honestly? I kinda fucking respected you for breaking it off clean. But now you’re trying to play happy family, and we both know you were never good enough for Annabelle. Not then, and not now. No matter how many willow trees you plant in your yard or paint on your arm.” 

A ripple spread from his pupils, rolling over his pale blue irises. He believed it, this shit he was spouting. 

Staggering to my feet, I loomed over him, fists clenched at my sides. “I was with Anna for years, and I never looked at another woman.” Acknowledging his cocked brow, I heaved a sigh. “Fine, maybe I looked. But I never acted on it. Just that one fucking time.”

Logan snorted again, and a fresh rivulet of blood joined the tributary leaking from his nose. “Once is all it takes.”

The fury clouding my perception burned away like fog, and I saw Logan clearly for the first time in weeks. Maybe years.

“Is this about my mistake, or yours?” His grin faded to a blank stare. “Maybe you’re just salty because there’s nobody coming to give you a second chance.” The voice in my head blasted a warning as I pushed us past the choppy waters and into the eye of the hurricane. “You heard from Laurel lately, bro?”

This time I didn’t need to look for a ripple. At the mention of his sister, a twenty-foot wave crested in Logan’s eyes.

It’d been ten years since child protective services took Laurel away. Logan spent weeks looking for her, asking about her, nosing around in every group home in the city. When he came up empty, he never spoke of her again. And from the look on his face, he wasn’t going to start now.

“Is that your ace in the hole?” Logan mumbled, averting his gaze. “Because you’re going to have to do better than that.”

There was nothing better than that. I’d ripped his still-beating heart from his chest. Which was only fair since he’d done the same to me.

Glass crunched under my feet as I walked toward the back door, leaving my best friend to deal with the wreckage of his past.

Inside my bungalow, I flopped onto the bed with the phone in my hand.

A half hour later, I was still staring at the empty box next to Anna’s name, trying to think of one good thing to tell her.

Finding nothing, I went in search of some ice for my swollen knuckles.