Maddoxlaughs.
The outburst makes my hair stand on end.
“God, you’re fucking joking. This is the guy?” He claps his hands and shakes his head, maniacal noises leaving him. “James, can you get someone to start the fucking car?” he asks their bodyguard. “I think we need to leave.”
“The fuck do you have against music?” Reed asks Adam.
I cross my arms over my chest. “He’s never really liked sex, drugs, or rock and roll,” I say, glaring at Adam.
The first bit of anger washes over Adam’s face, and he looks at me as if the sentence is a challenge.
“Wait—you two know each other?” Paul asks.
“I think I’ve heard enough tonight,” Adam says, shrugging Paul’s hands off his shoulders. He plasters the fake smile back on his lips and shakes Paul’s hand, thanking him for the invite before returning his attention to Reed, Maddox, and me.
The way darkness lingers in his gaze makes me uneasy and lets me know I should be more alert the rest of the time I'm here.
“I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you boys later this week,” he says.
Adam pushes between Reed and me before making his way down the stairs, and once he turns the corner toward the exit, I finally exhale.
Reed is already talking to the clueless DJ, trying to explain what just happened without giving away too many personal details. I don’t even look at anyone as I shove past them to the fire exit—where I should have gone in the first place to avoid all of this—and escape the room altogether.
Cold air swarms around me. It’s a welcome tickle on my numb skin. I press my hands into the railing and grip it tight, ignoring the ache of its cold metal as I force myself to breathe, to stay steady.
The door opens behind me, and my head droops.
“Reed, don’t—”
“It isn’t Reed.”
Maddox’s voice is soft. I inhale deeply, ignoring the overwhelming press of emotion behind my nose, and I face him. His gaze is solemn as he stares, his eyes illuminated beneath the floodlights from the roof.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I almost scoff. “Areyou?” I ask, more concerned with how Adam had just spoken to Maddox than how the asshole had stared at me.
Maddox shakes me off. “I’m fine,” he says. “It’ll take more than him bringing up my shit father to hurt me.”
“Maddox, he could tell everyone who you are,” I say, almost panicking. “Forget the photographers trying to get a glimpse of you. He—” I sink my head into my hand, the ropes winding around my stomach tightening to the point that I need to throw up. “This is all my fault. I know how much you want that kept private. If he tells the press who you are—”
“Our manager will take care of it,” he says, though I can see the fight behind his eyes. It’s eating at him, the stress of everyone finding out his past, his father’s past.
It’s written in every shift of his eyes.
He wipes his face harshly and forces his hands to his hips, gaze lifting to mine.
“Are you okay?” he asks again.
“I’m fine,” I answer, though my voice is too soft to be believable. “He’s just an ex.”
“He’s a fucking douchebag,” he mutters.
I need to puke.
“It won’t be the last time we see him this week,” I regretfully say. “I promise you that.”
Maddox huffs in an annoyed manner. He glances back over his shoulder to the door like he’s watching for someone before crossing the space between us and pulling down his mask.
