“Hello, old friend,” a voice rang from down the hall. “I brought a gift to celebrate your victory.”
Everything inside me felt as if it were being crushed. I knew that voice.
It was Oliver’s.
I stepped away from the door and pressed my back against the wall.
“You shouldn’t have come.” Jamie’s voice was cold. He’d never ever used that voice with me. I craned my neck as far as I could, trying to hear every word.
“Oh, come on. You won’t let me in?”
“Why are you here?”
“For old times’ sake. Nothing else. I’ll admit it. You won. I’m just trying to be a good sport.”
“You’re drunk,” Jamie accused. My brows shot up. That explained the slight slur I was picking up on.
“So? You don’t think I deserve a few drinks after you pried ten million dollars out of my hands? Jesus, Jamie. I never made you feel bad about your consumption. Now, let me in and get me a glass of water.”
A few seconds later, the door slammed closed. I slid down onto the ground, my mouth hanging open.
“You know,” Oliver began to speak again, “the jury was too generous. The songs may have poured out of you, but I was the one who opened the floodgates. Do you even remember what you were like when we first met?”
“I remember.”
“Mmm. I’m not sure you do. The Jamie that got up on stage during that open-mic night was visibly shaking, so nervous, so terrified, so fucking weak. He was scared of the world around him. You’d still be him if it wasn’t for me.”
“You think that gave you the right to take all of the things you’ve taken from me?”
“What did I take exactly?” There was an edge to Oliver’s voice now. “I tried to help you. That’s all I ever tried to do.”
“The fucked-up thing is, I think you might actually believe that,” Jamie growled. “Drink your water and leave.”
A glass clanked on the countertop. “Look at you. So smug about all your new millions. We earned that together, you asshole. You think you can just come and take it all from me? You think you’re going to be able to sleep at night after you fucked me like that?”
“Let me spell it out to you,” Jamie snapped. “I would be in a grave by now if I hadn’t left the band. You did everything in your power to keep me under your control. You nearly ruined my life, Oliver. So, yeah, I’ll sleep like a fucking baby.”
Jamie thought Oliver had controlled him, but how? What did he mean? I didn’t understand.
“Oh, please,” Oliver taunted. “You’ve always had a penchant for exaggeration. It was the jealousy, wasn’t it? Always so very jealous of me. It’s understandable. People tended to like me the way they never seemed to like you. You hated it. You always knew you were nothing without me. All the attention, all the women…” Oliver laughed cruelly. “It’s all gone now, isn’t it? I’m sorry to say you were right. Without the glamour and the stage lights and the fame, you’re nothing, while I still have an eager girl in every city just waiting to spread her legs for me.”
My stomach lurched.
“Get out.” Jamie’s voice was flat. “Get the hell out.”
Oliver tsked. “You shouldn’t be so rude to your friends.”
“You’re not my friend.”
“How quickly things change. Who are your friends these days, Jamie? Ever managed to smooth things out with Fox?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“If you’re back in touch, you should tell him to stay away from lying, gold-digging whores. Wouldn’t want him to get hurt again.”
A beat passed. When Jamie started speaking, his voice was deadly. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Iris, right? Lovely name. It didn’t take much to get her on board. Thirty thousand, if I remember correctly.”
