I’m exhausted by the time the show ends and Wolf is escorted from the stage to his dressing room. The band still has a meet and greet with the fans, and then we head to the airport to catch the private plane that will take us to Miami. The guys have to be in the recording studio tomorrow afternoon, so leaving tonight is a must.
I groan as I make my way to the bus. Terese catches up to me and slings an arm around my shoulders. “Ready for Florida, sexy?”
I smile at her, loving that she’ll be in Florida with us, even though she will undoubtedly spend the time constantly sucking face with Derrick.
“I guess.” Then I frown. “I wish I was more excited, but with things so awkward between Wolf and me, I’m just not sure. I have a hotel booked, but now that seems kind of weird.”
Terese gives me a sympathetic expression and links my arm with hers. “You and Wolf will be okay. He’s looking for something you’re not ready to give, but you’ll get there. He’s crazy about you, Lyric. And no arguments, you’re staying in that house with us. Don’t leave me stranded.”
I want to laugh and keep the conversation light, but my heart has been so heavy since I left Wolf’s room this morning. Even after our short talk this afternoon, not being with him feels wrong. And I’m afraid that every second we’re apart only widens the divide between us.
Instead, I change the subject. “C’mon, let’s get our bags transferred. I can’t wait to pass out on the plane.”
Terese groans. “Me too. But I think Derrick has other ideas in mind. That boy is constantly trying to get in my pants.”
I can’t hold back my laughter. “You two are ridiculously cute. It kind of makes me jealous.” I pause, turning serious. “Wolf and I need to get back together fast. I miss him.”
“Then get over your shit and talk to him about whatever’s bothering you. You know you can trust him.”
She’s right.
“I know I can,” I resolve. “I’m telling him everything.”
“Good.” She smiles. “And then maybe you’ll tell me.” She winks and then tugs on my arm. “C’mon, let’s go get our bags.”
Once our bags are loaded into the van, we wait for the boys to finish up with the signing. It occurs to me that when I left for San Diego a few days ago, I was in such a rush I didn’t grab my things from Wolf’s room. I should probably get whatever’s left before we take off.
As I walk toward bus number one, I’m surprised to see Rex standing near the entrance in a heated exchange with Rory, the band’s bus driver. They don’t look like they’re fighting, just talking, but I’ve never seen Rex so angry. He’s a huge guy, capable of taking down an entire football team if given the opportunity, but I’ve never seen him show anger. He just looks threatening.
A voice catches my attention, and I turn to see Derrick approaching Terese, a wide smile on his face.
“The signing’s over?” I call out to him. “Where’s Wolf?”
He’s already pulling Terese in for a kiss, but he stops to respond. “Said he had to grab his shit from the bus.”
That’s all I get before he devours Terese’s mouth. My stomach rolls as it hits me that Wolf must already be inside.
I rush the last few steps and reach for the door. Rory calls for me to stop, but fuck that. This used to be my bus too, and my things are still on it. I quicken my pace down the narrow aisle and past the main living area, my heart pounding like crazy in my chest.
Something feels wrong.
I stalk toward Wolf’s bedroom at the back of the bus. Behind me, Rex is now the one calling for me to stop, but I can barely hear him over my raging heartbeat. I’m at Wolf’s door. It’s closed, but that’s not unusual. That’s not what makes my stomach churn to the point I think I might lose my lunch all over the floor.
It’s the moaning. The moaning is loud. The screaming is louder, a woman’s voice pleading, “Fuck me harder.”
Rage swirls through me as I pound on the door twice before deciding that I don’t actually want to see what’s on the other side. I just want him to stop. But the sounds keep getting louder. I clasp a hand over my mouth, stifling the sob quickly building in my throat. Without energy to fight, I allow a pair of strong arms to lead me off the bus.
The pressure in my chest is too much and my vision is blurry. I think I might fall if not for the arms around my shoulders. Even when we step off the bus, the arms keep me steady. Maybe so I don’t make another run for Wolf’s room; I don’t know. All I want to do is run back on that bus. Find Wolf and rip his heart out of his chest the way he just did to mine.
When the arms release me, I swivel to find a sympathetic Rex in front of me. He opens his mouth to speak when a voice from behind him cuts in.
“Lyric.” The voice sounds like Wolf’s, but that must be my imagination. Wolf is fucking some rocker slut in his room. Tears sting the backs of my eyes, and I try to breathe through the pain. It doesn’t work. The first tear slips from my eye and rolls down my cheek … and then another. I’m not sure I could have stopped them if I tried.
Strong, familiar arms wrap around me. “Lyric, what’s wrong?”
I look up, but I have to blink the tears away to see clearly. Wolf wipes a finger across my eyes, drying them tenderly. He must be a mirage.
But no, he’s here, standing before me, concern etched into every line on his face. And then he gently moves the strand of hair from my face and hooks it over my ears. “What the hell is going on? Are you okay?”
He grips my face with his palms, pleading for me to speak, but I’m still reeling from the sight of him.
“It wasn’t you?”
“Who?”
I inhale sharply and look up at the bus. “On your bus.”
He shakes his head, clearly confused. “What? No. I was backstage with some VIPs. Why would you think I was on the bus?”
I pull away from him and dry the rest of my face with the back of my hand and stare back up at the bus. Confused, I turn to Rory and Rex, shaking with adrenaline. “Who’s on the bus?”
The men exchange worried glances, but neither says a word.
Wolf faces them fully, narrows his eyes, and puffs out his chest. “Who the fuck is on the bus?”
Just then, the door to the bus opens, and out stumbles none other than Destiny Lane. Crawley’s behind her, zipping up his jeans. Both look wasted and are cackling with laughter as if sharing an inside joke. Destiny looks completely strung out, a large Chanel handbag weighing down her arm. Destiny and her fucking purses.
And her eyes… I’ve seen that look before, as she snorted lines off the bathroom counter right in front of me when I was eight years old. Coke was always her weakness, but I thought rehab fixed her the last time. It’s been years since I’ve heard any rumors of her addiction resurfacing, but here it is, in the flesh.
My eyes are fixed on Destiny’s bugged-out eyes, her jittery body flying high—but then a loud, gravelly shuffle catches my attention. Wolf is moving quickly, his hand gripping the collar of Crawley’s black button up shirt and slamming him against the bus. Everything seems to shake.
Wolf’s expression is as ferocious as the beast he was named after as he uses his grip on Crawley’s shirt to lift him just enough so that his toes have to fight to feel the ground.
“What the fuck are you doing, you shit stick? Were you just fucking her on my bus?” He slams Crawley into the bus once more.
Crawley already has blood running down his face, but the prick is laughing like a madman, spinning me further into a spindle of rage.
“You piece of shit,” Wolf spits. Then he looks over and sees Destiny in Rex’s arms. She looks like she’s about to topple over without him.
“Is that Destiny?”
Wolf doesn’t wait for a response before his fist slams into Crawley’s face, and I hear a loud crunch as blood sprays from his nose.
Oh my God. I run to Wolf, but Hedge leaps toward me and holds me back, hugging tightly me from behind. “You don’t want to go over there, Lyric.”
“He’s going to kill him!” I say, desperate to free myself.
Chaos becomes charged with more chaos as screams and shouts wake the night. Security pushes their way through the crowd, rushing to reach Wolf and Crawley.
“Let him go, Wolf!” I shout. “He’s not worth it.”
I’m not sure if he hears me or if he knows he’s done enough damage to the old prick, but Wolf slams a dazed Crawley into the bus again and then throws him onto the ground before backing up until he’s by my side.
“You’re fired, asshole. We’ll mail you your shit.”
Concert security rushes forward, wasting no time to haul Crawley away.
“What is that dick doing with your mother?” The question is directed at me, but his heated eyes are still on Crawley as security hauls him off the ground and toward one of the vans.
I shake my head, overcome with embarrassment. I’m just as bewildered as Wolf at the sight of Destiny and Crawley. The woman is desperate to get to me. It doesn’t completely surprise me that she showed up here. When she wants something, she goes after it. That form of perseverance worked well for her early in her career, in her teens, when she was competing for the spotlight against the Cyndis and Madonnas of her generation. That competitive edge, paired with perfect timing and well-produced, catchy pop songs catapulted her into fame.
But over time, all her music started to sound the same. Autotune can only get you so far in this industry, and her clock was running down. Another big artist began to outshine her efforts, and then another, and then another … and then, when I was seventeen, she released her best album ever.
Wolf lets out a huff, distracting me from my thoughts, and then he walks away without another word. I watch as he approaches Doug and security while the van holding Destiny and Crawley pulls away from the lot. I didn’t even have a chance to talk to her to find out what she wanted. Not that she’d register much in her state. But maybe I could have tried. My expression hardens in response to my hopeful thoughts. Always hopeful, even when I know better.
I reach for my phone and scroll through the text messages she sent me today. Nothing gives any hint that she was going to show up. And definitely nothing about Crawley. Just “Call me, Lyric,” and “Pick up the phone, Lyric,” and “I’d like to talk.”
Wolf’s rising volume catches my attention. He’s only a couple yards away, but his chest heaves like he’s working himself up again. Or maybe he never calmed down. It’s instinct to walk toward him and reach for him, but I hesitate the moment my hand begins to wrap around his arm. I’m not sure if soothing him is what he needs, or if I’m the person to he needs it from.
The moment I touch him, I feel the flinch I feared, but he doesn’t pull away. That’s something, right? He’s too busy talking to Doug to react, so I’m not sure.
“I’ve been waiting to fire his ass. And now it’s done.” I feel the heat of his words as they rumble from his shaking body, and it’s all too familiar. Not the anger, but the adrenaline. It reminds me of our sex after his shows. How amped he’d get. How ready he was to fill me with every ounce of his need. But I know this isn’t that kind of energy.
I’m surprised when his eyes lock on mine. “You don’t know what your mother was doing here with Crawley?” He’s repeating his question from earlier as if expecting a different answer. What’s worse, he’s searching my eyes like he’s waiting to confirm that I’m telling him the truth.
My chest grows heavy as my throat tightens. Is this how it will be now? He’ll forever question everything I say?
“I have no idea. She’s been texting me, but she didn’t say she was coming to the show, and I had no clue those two even knew each other.”
Wolf lets out an exasperated breath and addresses Rory and Rex over my shoulder. “Can you clean out my room? Just throw everything into bags and get it to the plane.” He turns to Doug, who’s on his phone with someone from the label. “I’m getting Lyric out of here.”
Doug shakes his hand. “Take care of my girl, Wolf,” he says, his tone carrying a hint of warning. I wonder if they’ve talked about me. Would Doug tell him anything? No. He wouldn’t.
Doug hugs me with one arm and then gestures to his phone as his focus turns back to Wolf. “I’m giving your label a heads-up. They want you to call as soon as you can.”
Wolf nods and tugs on my hand, but I halt in my tracks. “Wait. I have stuff on your bus.”
Wolf looks at Rory and Rex again. “Grab everything out of the drawers. Don’t miss anything.”
“You got it, sir,” Rex agrees. He and Rory start to jog off, but Wolf stops them again.
“Wait,” Wolf calls. The guys look back expectantly.
“Why didn’t you stop Crawley from getting on the bus? He hasn’t been sleeping there for a week.”
Rory and Rex look at each other, their faces red with guilt. “He said he had to grab something, so I unlocked it for him,” Rory explains. “I didn’t think anything of it. Figured he left stuff in his old bunk. I didn’t see the lady with him until I’d already opened the door.”
“That’s when I walked up,” Rex adds. “We were deciding how to handle it when Lyric jumped on the bus. I’m sorry, boss. We didn’t realize what was going on.”
I watch the expressions on Wolf’s face morph from anger to confusion and then exhaustion. His shoulders slump. “Fine.” He’s not happy, but he takes my hand and leads me to a car. Everyone else is taking a coach bus to the airport.
Derrick and Terese are standing by the row of vehicles, just as confused as most of the onlookers—myself included.
“We’ll catch up with you guys on the plane,” Wolf says to Derrick. “Tell the guys.”
Derrick nods, and Terese squeezes my hand as I pass by.
As soon as we’re alone in the car, I look at Wolf with a silent plea. I just want him to pull me close so I can relax under the crook of his arm. One week ago, that’s exactly what he would have done.
But things have changed. Wolf doesn’t even look at me, just shakes his head angrily. “So what’s going on, Lyric? You come back on tour and your mom shows up on my fucking bus with Crawley? And don’t tell me you don’t know. She’s your fucking mom, for Christ’s sake.”
My jaw drops, and I can feel heat rapidly climbing my chest. “Excuse me?”
I lean back to get a good look at Wolf’s expression. Stern jaw, eyes pointed forward. He’s dead serious. He thinks I had something to do with what just happened back there. Fuck no.
“No,” I snap, feeling my body begin to quiver. I’m so tired of answering the same goddamn question. He can be pissed at me for leaving all he wants, but to put me in the same category as Crawley and Destiny is too much. “I found out when you did, Wolf. You were standing right there with me.”
He rolls his eyes and stares ahead. “Jesus,” he breathes. “I’m just trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. That was a shitshow back there, Lyric, and somehow your mother is involved.”
My face heats with embarrassment. “What can I say, Wolf? I’ve answered you every time you’ve asked the question and the answer remains the same. I have no idea. Not a single clue why Destiny was with Crawley. You’re just going to have to trust me. You think I wanted to walk in on that?”
“Well, forgive me for asking more than once, but you have a funny habit of keeping things from me. Pretty fucking significant things, apparently. Tell me, Lyric. Why should I trust you?”
His words hit me like shrapnel to my heart, and he couldn’t take them back even if he wanted to. My body trembles with anger and so much hurt. I shouldn’t have come back on tour. I shouldn’t be here. Not if Wolf is set on twisting my silence into something it’s not. Haven’t we been through enough this week?
Shaking my head, I face front and lock my arms in place by my sides protectively. “You shouldn’t. Keep telling yourself I’m this awful person you never really knew. Keep pushing me away, Wolf. Your heart is safer that way, right? If you really think the worst of me.”
He reaches for my hand but I tug it away, scooting closer to my door and facing the window. Inside, I’m crying, but I won’t shed one single tear for him. Instead, I let my chest fill with emotion. I let the influx of pain and confusion swarm within the confines of my ribcage, building to an excruciating level. But I won’t let it go. Not now.
I’m not sure how else to handle these arguments with Wolf. They seem to begin with only good intentions as we cling to what we once had together. So if we’re still fighting to understand each other—if we’re still fighting to hold on—then why do we continue to unravel as if there is nothing to save?
Out of everyone in my life, Wolf has been the only one who has been patient with me. Who’s never pushed me. Who, even through my silence, has understood me. Seen the best in me. Why can’t he do that now?
We’re silent the entire way to the private runway where Wolf’s jet awaits. We’re the first ones there aside from the captain and the crew. They stand at the foot of the staircase that leads to the jet door.
I exit the van before Wolf can stop me, and I dart for the stairs. It’s going to be a long way to Miami. A five-hour flight. With the amount of sleep I’ve missed out on lately, I’ll be out in no time and wake for nothing.
When I enter the jet, I’m too upset to appreciate much of it. Normally I would luxuriate in the creamy leather seats, built-in televisions, and crisp air. But tonight, I take the first seat I see and pack the seat next to it with my small handbag.
Wolf walks in after me. I avoid eye contact, and out of my periphery I see that he does too. My heart grows heavier as he steps past me and continues down the aisle. His footsteps grow faint long after I’ve realized we’re done fighting tonight. That should probably a good thing; I don’t know. Maybe not. Because that means we’re done trying, too.