I nearly fall to my knees.
“What does that have to do with Mads?” I ask. “People can’t blame him for his father being an evil fucking bastard.”
“Well, he’s also saying that Mads has been in and out of jail his entire life—”
For fighting people who keep comparing him to his father, I want to say.
“—That he’s an abuser, and that the record company is paying girls off who threaten to talk—”
“Maybe you guys shouldn’t have tried to pay Adam off,” I mutter.
“—He goes on to say on one comment that the girl Mads is seeing right now has been begging this guy to help her escape him.”
White lights flash behind my eyes.
“The fuck—that’s... that'sbullshit—”
I catch myself before I spill everything.
“Mads isn’t his father,” I snap through clenched teeth. “What is the response on the boards?”
“Most people are ignoring him,” she replies. “The response from anyone entertaining him is for the guy to fuck off and leave Mads to his privacy. They’re telling him he’s a jealous troll, and they don’t care about what Mads’s dead father ever did. Some are expressing solitude and telling their own stories of being judged for what their parents did, going on to say that it doesn’t define a person.”
At least there's that.
My nostrils flare with emotion. I wrap my hand around my waist and grip my skin tight enough that I wince.
“I thought Heartless was taking care of this,” I manage.
“And we are,” Cynda says. “This one… This one seems determined.”
I’m going to puke.
Maddox.
“What do you need from me?” I ask as a burning sensation swells in my sinuses. “What can I do?”
“I’m sending you legal’s number, along with Erin's from Relations. She’ll be at the concert today, so you may see her pop in and out backstage. Our team is combing through socials for anything that might have slipped. You don’t need to do anything extra or worry about it. We’re handling it. I just wanted to give you a heads-up on what’s going on. And if you see anything that they might need to know, you’ll have their numbers.”
My insides twist. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… Anyone suspicious. Activity that could get back to the press and come off as unsavory. That kind of thing,” she replies.
“Unsavory?” I want to throw my phone. “Are you saying you believe this creep?”
“No, Andi,” Cynda says. “I just mean to be on high alert for anyone who might try to get him into a situation he can’t get out of.”
“Spotting anyone suspicious might be a problem. Tomorrow is Halloween,” I say.
“Well, at least all bases will be covered,” she says. “Anyway. I think we’ll have this swept under the rug by tomorrow.”
I glance up to find Maddox bent over his knees, and my heart feels like it’s on fire.
“For his sake, I hope you do,” I say.
“How is he?” Cynda asks.
“Not great, Cyn.”
