“I know, Fez, that’s why I called. Your lawyers have already received a response from mine. If you look in your inbox you will have a copy. I still think you’re making a mistake. Spencer needs time away from the pressure of fast releases. He needs to get better and all RMI is going to do is push you into another tour too quickly.”
“Yeah, but you’d say that just to screw us over more.”
I look up from my computer over at the small open fire that Lincoln lit. It’s a good reminder of the calmness here. The reality that I’m far, far away from them is such a relief. Because this conversation is driving me bat-shit fucking crazy, and right now if I was in the same city as them, I’d be hopping in my car to drive over there and bitch slap the both of them.
Instead, I grit my teeth to stop from screaming blue murder at them, again, and slowly reiterate what I’ve already said a dozen times. “I realise you’ve made your decision, and yes, I got an email from your lawyer and also one from RMI. My call to you was more out of concern on a personal level. I’m worried for you, Spencer, I really am.”
“Lennon, be a doll and let this happen without any more of your fucking carrying on. You did us all right, and we don’t want anything else from you. I’ll hook you up with a backstage pass when we’re playing at Budapest.”
Jesus, I cringe, finally locking my jaw so I can’t say another word. They must be smoking Spencer’s crack if they think that’s a good deal, or that’s my biggest worry.
“We’re going to fly. Cheers, hey,” Fez adds, and I can hear the patronising smirk on his cocky face. Fez has always and will always believe that his shit don’t stink. For the record, everything that Fez does smells bad.
“Lennon, I’ll call you in a few days. Love you, darling. You’ve always been amazing, and we are actually thankful,” Gus speaks over Fez again.
“I’m always here for you guys. Don’t forget that.”
“You’re always here for the money we make.” Spencer, the drug addicted asshole cuts deep with his last words, hanging up with his cruel laughter filling my ears. But Spencer has been living in a chemical high for a long time, and Fez is the world’s biggest enabler. Sadly, Gus’s generous spirit ties him to them.
Spencer and Fez’s words should not hurt, but they do.
I spin around on Lincoln’s chair, letting the comfort I get from being in his private space, where his unique scent is as strong as his presence is, settle me down. From a business sense, I’ve needed to cut Broken Cube off my books for a while. I’ve lost way too much money and wasted too much time on them.
And the instinct I rely on urges me to take comprehensive notes of our call, which is what I do while I sort out the shock of the dissolution of one of my founding clients. I reach around for my diary and my notebook and write everything down, verbatim.
To start with it was me and Gus, young and in lust. Then Gus introduced me to Spencer, and I listened to him and Gus sing in a dilapidated shed, completely spellbound. We found Fez, and Nikki by sheer luck one night, and the band was born. We all made sense for a while. Beautiful sense, until Gus and I fell out of first love and into being friends. My need for more of everything, being the springboard for that. We never spoke about forming a pack, I guess in a lot of ways we all knew that would never work. And then I realised how self-obsessed Spencer and Fez were, and I saw the lengths they’d go to to succeed. The night a drug fucked Spencer thought the roadies should try my ‘little ass’ and had them lined up ready in our living room was the night I left. And we moved straight into a different phase of our relationship. Spencer and Fez could fuck and screw over whomever they chose. They could drink a gallon of tequila before breakfast, Gus could retreat to his loft apartment, and Nikki could float between gigs.
Gus knew I was an omega, and while I never said anything to the others, I think they suspected it. Although they’re not the smartest tools in the shed, especially now. Since we all broke up, I’ve lived in a dozen different places, have changed my hair and appearance a few times over, and haven’t met them in person again. I doubt Spencer and Fez would recognise me if we ran into each other, they’ve been partying hard for the last few years. I’m sure everything in their life is a blur these days. But them not recognising me is a theory I’m not prepared to test. I trust Gus and always will. I want to say I have faith none of them would sell me out, but I started gun lessons the day after I ran out the front door of the house we used to share, so maybe I know in the back of my head what desperation does to a person.
“Enough reminiscing,” I say to Ares as I flick through my diary to get an idea of what the rest of my night looks like. Hectic is what.
Needing a break before my next run of online meetings and catch ups, Ares and I meander through the house. I follow the low murmur of Noah’s voice as he’s still talking with Lincoln outside, and then I see the low glow of a computer screen and watch Gabe staring out a dark window as he talks to someone on the phone. Checking the time in the kitchen I’m surprised it’s after 11, and I wish I had the chance to explain to everyone at dinner the weird times I keep.
Ares changes his direction as soon as we enter the dark kitchen, and I instantly sense we’re not alone.
The shadow in the corner of the room gets bigger, and even though I know he’s there, I still make one of those awful hacking noises in fright when Valak says, “I’ll come with you outside.” Quietly too.
And I don’t miss the slight tilt of his mouth.
“You know this means war, don’t you, Valak? You can’t sit in the dark and scare the shit out of people and not expect me to do the same to you. Far out, you nearly gave me a heart attack!”
“Your dog knew it was me.” He chuckles, and I get distracted wondering if those lips of his are as soft as his brother’s. “Let’s go. It’s been raining on and off for a few hours, but there’s a big cell nearly here. Once it hits, no one is going anywhere.”
17
LENNON
There’s something about weather events that are both terrifying and exhilarating. They make you want to hide under a mountain of blankets only after you’ve run like a child through the first raindrops that fall. I go to step out from under the cover, to feel the rain, but Valak’s hand on my arm stops me before I even step out of the cover.
“Hey?” I grumble as a clap of thunder booms. The lightning flashes at the same time, making the sky light up brightly before we plunge into darkness again.
Valak waits until the rumbling stops, not letting my hand go still.
“Spider,” he says softly. And I follow his finger to a massive St. Andrew’s Cross spider, the poor thing holding on for dear life as the storm ruins his web. He’s seriously like one gust away from ending up back on the mainland.
“Oh, you want me to move it before we go out?” I ask, a little stunned before I realise I’m being harsh. Everyone has phobias. Valak clearly has one that involves eight spindly legs, a thousand eyes, and tiny fangs.
“What? Are you fucking crazy?” he hollers over another rumble of thunder as I drag my finger through the top of the web and cut a big circle so the spider is left dangling from his web on the end of my hand.
