“Ivy?” Jamie’s voice snapped me out of my despair, and I shot up to my feet, dropping my phone on the ground. He rounded the corner of the living room, scanning me quickly and giving me a tired smile. “Hey.”
“Hi.” I ducked to pick up the phone. “How did it go?”
He ran a hand over his face. “I won. I won the court case.” His expression radiated with relief beneath the tiredness.
“Tell me,” I urged, unable to wait a moment longer. I had to know what Oliver did to him. I hoped it would be enough to kill the self-destructive urge I felt to respond to his message. What was wrong with me? Why was I even considering it?
Jamie nodded and moved to sit by me, leaning back into the cushions and letting out a long breath. “For the past year, I’d been engaged in a legal battle with Oliver and his father over royalty payments from our music.”
“His father?” I asked, frowning.
“We were signed to his father’s label. When we first got picked up, I was so young. I had no idea how contracts worked, and I didn’t understand the terms. I trusted Oliver more than I ever should have, and I signed something that ended up putting most of the money Ritual Disruption earned in Oliver’s and his dad’s pockets. After I quit the band, for a long time, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get that money back, but then I found a lawyer, and we figured out a way to do it. You see, the contract said that the principal songwriter got to keep the majority of the royalties. Oliver pretended he wrote our music, and he made everyone believe it, but…” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling.
“What Jamie? What?” I prompted impatiently.
“I was the one who wrote everything.”
My head swam. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you say anything earlier? Why did you allow him to lie about something like that for so many years? It doesn’t add up.”
He laughed in a frustrated way. “I’m not explaining this very well. My brain is fried, and I’m skipping over important parts. Let me backtrack—”
The doorbell rang.
“Are you expecting someone?” I asked.
Jamie shook his head. “No.” He looked toward the hallway, and his expression went blank, as if he were seeing a ghost.
“What?” I asked.
He shut his eyes, swearing under his breath. “Ivy. You need to leave.”
“What?” I asked again, my voice rising. “Who is it?”
He looked at me, taking my face in his hands. “I’m asking you to trust me. Go home, and I’ll come and pick you up a little bit later. Go out through the backyard.”
I scoffed incredulously. “Are you serious? We’re in the middle of a conversation. You want me to sneak—”
The doorbell rang again. Someone pounded on the door three times.
“Please,” Jamie begged, his voice taking an urgency that scared me. “Please just do as I say.”
He pulled me up and steered me in the opposite direction of the front door.
“Jamie, this is nuts!” I protested. “Who is it?”
“Ivy, I’m begging you,” he hissed. “Please go.”
I tore my arm out of his grip, angry and frustrated. “This is bullshit, Jamie. Don’t bother coming for me tonight.”
“Ivy, come on.” He stepped closer to me while whipping his head to glance back at the door. “I’ll explain everything.”
“Whatever,” I snapped. “I know my way out.”
Stomping down the hallway, past the bedroom, I turned a corner. From here, I could see the glass doors that led outside. Crossing the remaining distance with a few long steps, I pulled on the handle and slid one door open. I couldn’t see Jamie anymore, but I heard his footsteps and the loud snap of the front lock.
I froze, hovering on the threshold. My skin was pulsing with the same frantic rhythm I felt in my heart. Jamie had asked me to leave, I reminded myself.
Just leave, Ivy.
