Shane
Ratings for the NBC interview were through the roof. Travis was in his element, fielding all kinds of offers that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with. The tour was going well, and so was my relationship with Delaney. I wanted to focus on the future, stop living in the past.
A part of me still felt unsettled, though, like the clear horizon was only giving me a false sense of security. Trouble had a habit of finding me, following me wherever I went. I couldn’t see it yet. But I knew it was there. Lurking.
Two weeks later, we were back in New York City. Same hotel, same suite. Manhattan had a different, more frenetic energy than any other place on earth, and it had taken three encores to satisfy our ravenous fans. After the concert, Delaney and I rode the elevator with Landon and the two strays he’d decided to take home for the night, enduring thirty-three floors of increasingly vulgar requests for us to join them.
I didn’t need to look at Delaney’s face to give him an answer, I could feel her reluctance in the way she pressed closer to me and squeezed my hand tighter with each floor.
Not. Interested.
I shut the door without a backward glance, ignoring the knocking that started just after I pressed Delaney against the nearest wall, running my palms over her rib cage, sighing at the fullness of her breasts. Except it didn’t stop.
Landon was starting to remind me of the way I’d once been—at my worst. I knew he was fighting his own share of demons, and Travis was considering shoving him in a detox center once the tour was over, but right now I wasn’t feeling much empathy. I slammed my hand against the plaster. “Jesus Christ, Landon. You ever hear the expression ‘no means no’?”
I flung open the door, pissed off as a swatted wasp.
It wasn’t Landon.
Every last bit of oxygen catapulted straight out of my lungs. Two police officers looked at me expectantly.
I glanced back at Delaney, standing with her hand over her mouth, all color drained from her face. I reached out for her, pulled her into my chest. Whatever news they had come to deliver, we would handle together.
“Sean Sutter.” It wasn’t a question. The officers announced my name like it was a death sentence.
Maybe today it was. “Yes.”
“You are being arrested on charges stemming from the death of Caleb Branford. Please place your hands behind your back.” There was a flash of metal as I unwound my arm from Delaney’s waist, wincing as one of the officers snapped cuffs around me. Panic sent adrenaline racing through my veins, my breath coming in quick, short pants. I was an animal, caught.
“Do you have any weapons on your person?” The words sounded slow and distorted, almost as if we were underwater.
“No,” I bit out, fighting the urge to run, to struggle. He frisked me anyway. No leniency for rock stars.
Delaney retreated to the nearest wall, swallowing frantically. I focused on her, on her gorgeous, terrified face. Guilt skittered along my nerve endings, rubbing them raw. What had I brought her into? She didn’t need this, didn’t need me dragging her down. “Baby, this was bound to happen,” I said anyway. “Just call Travis. And Gavin. They’ll take care of—”
“You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Anything you do say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to…” The torrent of words became background noise, an ominous soundtrack to the final act of a movie that had been paused in my mind for more than a decade.
I’d always known this day would come to pass.
I ran. I hid in plain sight. I lied.
But none of that mattered. Those tactics—they had only delayed the inevitable.
Caleb was dead because of me. It was time for me to pay. And in that moment, I wished I had stayed to take whatever penalty I deserved. Back then I had nothing to lose, not really. But now? I had Delaney. A relationship with my brother. A successful career.
I had everything I’d ever wanted.
And none of that mattered, because I didn’t deserve any of it. If not for Caleb’s death I would probably have been content to play guitar on nights and weekends, maybe as a house band doing covers at a local bar. I’d never intended to get behind the microphone. Never believed I had the talent to headline major world tours, to rock out in front of fifty thousand screaming fans.
Not until Caleb’s death did I decide to live out my dreams, or die trying. I bled my grief onto the page, writing song after song. Channeling his spirit, I sang into the mic. I lived for the moments I could sweat out my sorrow beneath the spotlights, sing away my rage, my regrets. I hadn’t gone to his funeral, but I’d honored Caleb’s memory with every performance.
“Everything is going to be okay, Delaney. I promise.” Where did I get off, promising things there was a damn good chance I wouldn’t be able to deliver on? Even so, Delaney’s small nod made me feel better.
The cops nudged me forward, one on either side. Pushing off the wall, Delaney followed us into the corridor. “Where are you taking him?” she asked.
They named a precinct, although I knew it was only a matter of time before I would be extradited home. Despite calling me “Sean,” these guys only knew me as Shane. I was just another celebrity who had taken a few too many liberties with the law. But the cops back home, maybe even the same ones who had been at the scene of the accident, they’d been waiting for years to get their hands on me. And I couldn’t blame them.
We walked outside, and it was obvious someone had leaked the news of my arrest to the press even before the cuffs were locked around my wrists. The street was filled with police cruisers, their lights flashing angrily at me, reporters and cameramen hurtling out of network news vans like invading beetles.
“Shane, why did you run from your crime?”
“Have you been hiding your identity for years?”
“Did you kill your friend?”
I refused to bow my head, looking straight ahead as I was pushed into the back of a police car, driven away by two cops who didn’t seem unhappy about the possibility of making it onto the nightly news. All that was missing from their cheerful banter was a request for a selfie.
We drove a few blocks, pulled up to the curb. They opened my door, hauling me out by my elbows. More lights, more cameras, more combative reporters. I was escorted through the churning, deafening sea into a police station. Fluorescent lights bounced off gray linoleum floors that must have been white before being trampled on by thousands of criminals. And now by me.
I expected to be fingerprinted, photographed, searched. Instead I was escorted into a small, dingy room lined with what I assumed were two-way mirrors. My handcuffs were removed, and two men in cheap suits, not the uniformed officers who had brought me here, entered the room.
“Should we call you ‘Mr. Sutton’ or ‘Mr. Hawthorne’?”
Call me Fucked. Royally Fucked. I hoisted up a shoulder. “Shane’s fine.”
They exchanged a glance, one I didn’t bother trying to interpret. “We’re from Clark County. New York officers executed the warrant, and we’re just waiting for your extradition papers to be approved before bringing you back home.”
I don’t have a home.
“Will you be contesting the extradition…Shane?”
I leaned back in the rickety chair, crossing my arms and pretending I wasn’t jumping out of my skin. “You’ll have to ask my lawyer.”
Offering dual grunts, they sat down across from me, one of them opening a folder and poising his pen over the enclosed notepad. “So, why don’t we get started. Tell us about the night of—”
I interrupted. “You really think I’m going to tell you about anything without my lawyer present?”
He shrugged, not fazed at all. “Why not? You talked to Mike Lewis about it.”
These guys reminded me of my father. Bullies who latched on to their target with malicious glee. I glared at them through narrowed eyes, fury churning inside my gut. And a sickening sense that I’d brought this all on myself.
Another shot of adrenaline flurried in my belly. I lifted my chin. “Lawyer.”
The one with the pen unclicked it, put it back in his pocket. Closing his folder with a snap, he turned to his partner. “How long have you been waiting to get your hands on the asshole who forced good people to bury their only child before he was even old enough to shave?”
“A hell of a long time.”
Dread welled in my throat, so thick I could have choked on it. Somehow I forced it down, swallowing hard, staring harder. If this was the only contest I could win, I sure as hell wasn’t backing down.
There was a metallic squeal as he pushed his chair away from the table, immediately echoed as the other man did the same. His thick chuckle rebounded off the cement walls. “Yeah, me too. A hell of a long time.”
And that’s exactly how long it felt until Gavin showed up. A hell of a long time.
Delaney
Fear lanced through me as I watched the officers escort Shane away. I was breathless, dizzy with terror. The scene was all too familiar. My father had been led away from me in handcuffs, too. Except in his case, I could have said something to make it stop. Could have. And didn’t. Tonight, though, my hands were just as tied as Shane’s.
They turned the corner and I began chanting, forcing words out of my mouth in a relentless, meaningless pattern as I scrambled back into the room, eyes darting around for my phone. “Oh my God, oh my God…” Where the fuck was it? I dug inside my purse, scanned every flat surface, ripped the covers off the bed. “Shit, shit, shit.” I didn’t know Travis’s number by heart. Or Gavin’s. I needed to find my phone.
The pillows on every chair and couch came next, toppling over a lamp in the process. Where was it? Diving onto the floor, I army-crawled around the suite, looking under everything. Ohmygod, ohmygod. Shit, shit, shit.
Shane, Shane, Shane.
Not knowing where else to look, I stared around the trashed room until the edges of my vision blurred. Helpless. I felt so fucking helpless. A sob tore through me and I sat up, wrapping my arms around my stomach and rocking back and forth. Pain battered my sides as all my fears clogged my mind, turning the room dark and heavy. My mother dead. My father in jail. Shane hauled away in handcuffs. Everyone I loved, they had all been taken from me. Why had I thought Shane would be any different? After what I’d done, and maybe even worse—what I hadn’t done—what made me think I deserved to find love?
My relationship with Shane had begun as a fraud, every phony aspect clearly spelled out in black and white. But then it had changed, become something different. Feelings that couldn’t be contained on a contract page sprang up between us.
But it didn’t matter, because everything we built together was sitting on a fragile foundation of lies. His past. My past.
We were liars.
Maybe we deserved each other. Maybe Shane would understand why I had lied to him, because of a promise I’d made to someone else. Why I was still lying. To him, to everyone.
Maybe. So many maybes.
As if heaven sent, I heard a ringing and raced into the bedroom. There. My black iPhone cover had blended in with my suitcase. I snatched it up, frantically swiping the screen without glancing at the caller ID. “Travis?” I asked breathlessly.
“No. This is Gavin, Shane’s br—”
My heart splintered. “Gavin! They’ve taken Shane,” I screeched, falling apart.
“Delaney, calm down. That’s why I’m calling. One of my contacts in the NYPD tipped me off about his arrest.” His tone was calm, purely professional even though we were talking about his brother.
I focused on Gavin’s voice like it was my lifeline. “They’ve arrested him for Caleb’s murder.”
“I’m heading to the precinct now. I’ll call you when I know more.”
“Wait,” I rasped, hating myself for taking even a second more of his time when he should be going to Shane, but needing direction. “What can I do?”
He didn’t hesitate. “A long time ago, Shane needed me and I didn’t realize how much. I let him down then, and I won’t do it again. Stay strong, Delaney. But most important, if you care for him at all, just stay.”
Gavin’s words resonating in my ears, I took a few calming breaths. I couldn’t afford to break down, not when Shane was in trouble. Gavin would fight tooth and nail for him, I knew, but I wanted to be there, too. I wanted to stay. Not because Gavin told me to, but because there was no place I would rather be.
Of course, that was the problem. I didn’t deserve to be by Shane’s side, unless it was sharing his cell.
Maybe that was why I couldn’t catch my breath. I’d spent the past three years insulating myself from my mistakes, my secrets. My lies. But, like Shane, I was living on borrowed time.
I hiked my shoulders up to my neck as a knock sounded at the door. Was it another police officer? Was I being brought in for questioning? My knowledge of police procedure didn’t extend much beyond Olivia Benson’s dialogue on SVU. “Delaney, it’s me. Piper. Open up.”
A wave of relief crashed over me as I jumped up and jerked at the knob. “Shane’s been arrested.”
“Sshh.” Looking as immaculate as always in crisp, dark jeans and a white silk tank, Piper stepped into the suite, her eyes wide as she took in the wreckage. “Christ. Did the police do this?”
I scanned the room, seeing it from her perspective. “I couldn’t find my phone,” I offered lamely as I bent to replace the couch pillows on the naked frame.
Piper righted a fallen lamp and straightened its shade. “Travis is already on his way. He’s furious he wasn’t notified about this.”
“Gavin’s heading there, too.” I sat down heavily on the couch, raking my hands through my snarled hair. “Why now? All these years later?”
Replacing the cushions of the chair, Piper took a seat across from me. “From what I gather, Shane’s from a small town. He was the kid from the wrong side of the tracks, and the boy who died was the only son of one of their most prominent families. No one’s gotten over it, and now that they know Sean Sutter is really Shane Hawthorne, it’s a big deal. They’re going to try to make an example out of him. Besides that, it’s going to put their town on the map. Reporters from all over the world are going to descend on them, renting rooms in their hotel, eating at their restaurants. This trial is going to be one hell of a cash cow. Even if they can’t make the case, they’re looking for their fifteen minutes of fame.”
What the hell was wrong with our legal system? First my father, now Shane. Was Lady Justice not just blind, but deaf and dumb, too? Or maybe Shane and I were so busy shielding ourselves from the truth, we’d become convinced—wrongly—that it didn’t exist.
I swiveled back to Piper. “Who is they? Caleb’s parents, the police? Or do even small towns have PR departments?”
She lobbed a remorseful smile my way. “That’s exactly what we need to find out.”
I sagged into the cushions, feeling overwhelmed. So much was at stake.
Piper hopped up and retrieved a pack of peanut M&M’s from the minibar. “Eat these before you pass out. I called hair and makeup. They’ll be here in a few minutes. I’m going to pick out something gorgeous, but conservative, for you to wear. We’re going down to the station, and everyone is going to see you there. Not sure how long it will take, but it’s important for you to be by Shane’s side through all of this. Now, more than ever, your relationship needs to appear genuine.”
I bit down on the candy, its chocolate coating tasting like dirt in my mouth. “Our relationship is genuine. I love him, Piper.” The admission slipped through my teeth effortlessly, and I knew it was true. I love Shane.
She patted my knee, a pleased smile smeared across her glossed lips. “That’s perfect. Exactly how you should act.”
I wasn’t acting.
“Piper, have you ever been in love?”
Longing streaked across her face, so quick I wasn’t sure I’d read it right. She started to turn away, but I caught her wrist. Piper looked at me, frowning, then down at my fingers.
I let go, mumbling an apology.
She didn’t move though, as I’d expected her to. “Once.”
“Someone from home?” I prodded.
As the seconds ticked by, I began to think she wouldn’t answer. That I’d pushed my luck. But, again, Piper surprised me. “No. I met him here, my first year at UCLA.”
She disappeared into the bedroom then, and I heard her rustling through my clothes. When she emerged holding an outfit, I swallowed the gritty remnants of the last M&M. “What happened?”
She sighed. “Nothing. The guy turned out to be a complete jerk.” Squaring her shoulders. Piper extended the hanger in my direction, clearly signaling that our brief conversation was over.
I changed quickly, then endured another session with hair and makeup. The thrill of being fussed over had definitely worn off.
By the time I walked out of the hotel at two in the morning, I looked like a mannequin and felt just as animated. My brain was sluggish, my movements stiff and slow. “Look sad and take your time getting into the car. Let them get plenty of photos,” Piper whispered before pushing me out the door.
Her advice was redundant. I was sad, and putting one foot in front of the other required herculean effort. But I did it, and repeated the process in reverse at the police station. “Where is he?” I asked Piper once we were inside, the closed door immediately reducing the shouts of the reporters to a muted rumbling.
“I’m not exactly sure. You probably won’t get to see Shane tonight, unless they release him.”
I sat down on one of the folding chairs lining the wall, a confused frown denting my forehead. “Then why am I here?”
“If you didn’t come, the story would shift to you abandoning Shane, either because you think he’s guilty or because you lied about your feelings for each other. We have to stay on message. You love Shane and you support him, one hundred percent.” Her eyes bored into me as if she doubted my commitment.
I nodded weakly. Right now I was doubting just about everything.
Everything except my feelings for Shane.
For the next hour, the door opened and closed several times, people came and went. Drunks, dealers, prostitutes, well dressed, barely dressed, loud, silent. Piper barely looked up from her phone, giving me play-by-play updates from Travis, news alerts from social media, and online tabloids.
The door swung open again as a female police officer escorted a wraith of a woman into the station, the officer’s face a puckered show of distaste at her charge’s filth and pungent stench. “Got another one for the drunk tank,” she called to the man sitting at the front desk.
I crossed my leg just as the woman jerked her arm out of the officer’s grasp. “Not drunk, damn you! Had one drink; jess out for a walk.” She knocked into my foot, sending my shoe flying across the hall. Losing her balance, she pitched forward on the dingy floor.
I sprang forward. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“Miss, you’ll have to—”
“Take her,” the disheveled woman slurred angrily, making no attempt to get up. She pointed at me, looking back at the officer. “She deserves to be here, not me!”
A river of terror slid down my spine as I grabbed my shoe and backed away. The officer threw me a pitying glance, hauling the woman to her feet. “Let’s go.”
Piper took one look at my overflowing eyes and jumped up, dragging me into the ladies’ room. “Here.” She shoved a stack of paper towels into my hands. “Do you know that woman?”
Unable to speak, I shook my head and wiped at my tears. “No.” But apparently she knew me better than anyone. Looked at me and saw the guilt all over my face.
Piper grabbed my earlobes, squeezing them fiercely.
“Ow,” I screeched, pulling away. “What are you doing?”
A wry smile slanted across her face. “Just a trick I learned. No one likes to ugly cry in public. You good now?”
A couple of years ago I never would have dreamed “Perfect Piper” had anything to cry about.
I blinked, realizing my tears had dried up. “No. But I’m not crying anymore.”
“Well, that’s enough for me.” She spilled the contents of her purse on the counter, makeup rolling everywhere. Picking up a travel-sized pouch of makeup-remover towelettes, she began wiping at the mess of mascara streaking my skin.
“That guy…Was it hard seeing him on campus after you broke up?”
Her hand stilled. “He wasn’t a student. And we didn’t break up. He basically took off, dumped me without a word.”
“He dumped you?” I asked, incredulous.
She crumpled the towelette and threw it at the wastebin attached to the wall. “Yes. Not my fondest memory, so…” Her voice trailed off as she uncapped an eyeliner.
I took the hint. “Got it. Didn’t mean to pry.”
“Musicians are trouble. Some are worth it, some aren’t.”
Musician? I wanted to ask more, and not just because it was a relief to focus on something besides my fear for Shane. But it was obvious Piper didn’t feel the same. She rarely came to Nothing but Trouble concerts, and I’d never seen her talk to any of the guys in the band except for a few brief exchanges with Shane. The man must have left one hell of an impression if he’d permanently turned her off all musicians, even rock stars at the top of their game.
Piper finished with my liner and picked up a tube of mascara. “All right. Once you’re fixed up, we’re going back out there to sit down. And as soon as Travis is done talking to Shane, he’ll fill us in.”
I gnawed at my lower lip, rocked by a fresh wave of anxiety. “You know, by the pool at Travis’s house, I asked what he did for a living.”
Piper dotted concealer beneath my eyes. “Oh yeah? What did he say?”
“He said he solved problems.”
She let out a soft laugh. “Well, he’s got his work cut out for him tonight.”
Shane
“You okay?” Travis bounced into the room as if he’d been drop-kicked from the corridor.
“Just great. My favorite way to spend the night.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “How did you get here so fast?” If Travis had come from Los Angeles, he would still be in the air.
“Believe it or not, high school reunion. I drove down from Westchester as soon as I heard.” He looked around, as if finally noticing I was alone. “Where’s Gavin?”
“He just left to get copies of the extradition agreement. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Travis nodded. “Good. Okay, listen. I can’t practice law in Clark County, but Gavin can. He’s going to fight this charge with every resource at his disposal. Meanwhile, I made a few calls on the drive in. Both sides have agreed that we’ll fly back private rather than commercial, given the circus that’s going to follow you wherever you go. Make no mistake. They’re not shying away from publicity, but they’re not going to push for chaos at a major New York City airport.”
I expelled a deep breath, splaying my hands out on the metal table. “It’s finally happening, huh?”
Travis regarded me soberly, offering a curt nod. “Hopefully not for long. You and I both know this is bullshit. They’re not looking to try Sean Sutter. They just want to tie Shane Hawthorne to their bumblefuck town.”
My chest squeezed, and I pressed my lips together to keep back the tortured howl rattling in my lungs. Caleb’s death wasn’t bullshit, but I knew what Travis meant. “How’s Delaney?”
“I have Piper with her now, making sure she’s on the same page. The NBC interview made the two of you look like some kind of rock ’n’ roll fairy tale, and we’re going to ride that horse-drawn carriage away from the courthouse and all the way to the bank.”
“Travis.” My tongue felt heavy in my mouth. “Leave her out of it. I don’t want to use Delaney like that. She’s been through enough. I don’t want her sucked into my mess.”
Travis leaned back in the tiny chair. “What are you talking about? How will it look if she doesn’t stand by you? You can barely spend more than a few days at a time at your beach house. You want to spend the rest of your life in a six-by-eight cell?”
Bile rose, bitter and harsh, stinging the back of my throat. “If she wants out, let her go.” Maybe she would finally make the smart choice and leave me.