Page 69 of Jude

I wanted to call out after her, but I bit my tongue.

Huffing, I tracked her enraged retreat as she turned on her heel and stormed down the limestone steps.

Her heels clicked with fury as she took off down the gravel driveway.

She got into her car, a late-model German sedan, switched on the engine, and spun off with a screech.

I stood at the threshold, taking a deep inhale to steady my shaking hands.

‘Che Dio ti benedica, donna,’ I muttered under my breath as her taillights vanished through the security gates.

Bless you, Abby.

I chose to let her go with no ill will rather than allow her venom to poison my new life.

Chapter 15

JUDE

‘Alright gents, here’s the preliminary run for the European leg,’ Mason, our manager, announced, slapping a thick folder down on the mixing console. ‘Fifteen cities in total.’

It was late; I had no idea of the time, and we were packing up after a long day of laying new tracks, shattered and ready to hit the sack.

Which is why I cared little about Mason’s tour announcement.

The relentless press, glitz, the glam, and talk-show couches were getting to me.

If I had my way, I’d stay barricaded inside a soundproofed studio for the rest of my career, playing riffs on my vintage Martin acoustic or tracking rhythm lines on my Gibson Les Paul until sunrise.

Levi groaned, sinking deeper into a leather couch with a pillow over his face.

‘You’ve got to be joking, Mase,’ he muttered from under the cushion. ‘We just finished up in Austin and Vegas.’

‘I’m wiped,’ Reign grunted. ‘Can’t care for another tour, man.’

We all tolerated the promotional circus and brutal tours solely because Mason insisted on the grind.

‘I get it gents, but Six Sinners is hot right now,’ Mason rasped, gazing at all of us with some fondness.

For all his hard-ass ways, he was an able and kind guide who commiserated with us.

‘We’re running on fumes,’ Bishop chimed in, adjusting his guitar strap. ‘We need a break.’

‘We’ve got four major tours locked in, can’t get out of those. We’ve a contract to fulfill and a global audience to thrill, one that’s growing every single week. After that, however, pitch me a gig I can take upstairs,’ Mason countered, crossing his arms and frowning at us.

‘What about a Vegas residency?’ Angel suggested from the piano bench. ‘One venue, zero packing bags every night.’

‘Vegas?’ Reign snorted, shaking his head. ‘We’re not a lounge act. We turn epic stadium concerts into deeply personal experiences, speaking bullshit-free to people’s hearts; not sure a cabaret act in Vegas cuts it.’

‘How about a three-month orchestral recording stint instead?’ I spoke up, stepping toward the console. ‘Bring in a full symphony, re-imagine the back catalog.’

‘Or we set up a six-month base in Europe,’ Reign offered, his eyes lighting up. ‘Rent a castle in France or Germany, let the European fans come to us since they love us so much down there. Both options allow us to chill a little, smell the damn roses.’

‘Now we’re thinking outside the box,’ Mason said, a slow grin spreading across his face as he picked up his file and strolled out of the studio. ‘Keep refining those ideas, and once we settle on one, I’ll work some magic. I’ll also build more downtime in between the road runs.’

As he disappeared into the corridor, my phone buzzed against my thigh.

I pulled the device from my pocket and tapped the notification link, which opened the live video feed from the front-door camera back at my home.