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  Huffing out a breath, he parked his ass on the armchair opposite us and opened up a laptop that was sitting on the coffee table.

  It seemed absolutely impossible, that in the time between driving from the cabin to civilization that the likes, comments and shares had multiplied so much I couldn’t even process the number. How many zeros were there? And where the hell did these people come from?

  Will fuck you so hard you’ll forget her name—AnnieGee

  Disseminate them in lyrics! They deserve each other—TulsaTodd

  Blowjob will make you feel better babe. Slide into my DMs—TawneyM

  “Jesus.” I scanned over the comments, unable to focus as the screen blurred. “It doesn’t look like it’s slowing down.”

  Johnny barked out a laugh, cracking his neck to the side like he was enjoying himself. “Yeah, that ship sailed, brother. And no offense, but you’re not hiding out here. I leave to go on tour next Tuesday.”

  Didn’t think there was anything that could manufacture a laugh, but that statement made me chuckle.

  “Dude, stop saying you’re going on tour like that’s what it is. You’re joining a traveling freak show and roaming through the country like fugitives.”

  Johnny raised his brow, not finding the same humor. “Says the asshole who has wanted fame his whole life and now that he has it, is hiding out in my house.”

  Touché.

  The man had a point.

  I’d waited my whole life to have their attention.

  It was time to think about what I wanted to say.

  Vaughan

  It seemed like everyone in the city was looking for me.

  A few local news stations had picked up the story, knocking on Connor’s door, looking for a statement. Unsurprisingly, he chose not to answer it, leaving reporters to make up their own BS as they crossed back to their studios while putting his address on blast.

  My lack of sympathy was also unsurprising, guess there were only so many fucks I had to give and I was all out.

  It was only a matter of time before they tracked down Johnny, the story of his untimely demise debunked by his crazy Uncle Earl who ran a trailer park out in Jeannette. So rather than wait until they smoked us out like criminals with a list of warrants, I decided the best thing to do was face the music—pun intended.

  The lack of wheels—my truck still at the cabin—meant Nico was acting as chauffeur, but it was me who was firmly in the driver’s seat. Metaphorically of course, we weren’t sitting on each other like a couple of clowns ready to join Johnny’s circus.

  While Nico drove, I dialed, waiting as each passing second felt like an eternity.

  “This is Amy at WJVE, the station that rocks and never sleeps, how may I direct your call?”

  “Hey, Amy, it’s Vaughan Hale. How’s your day going?” It wasn’t the first time I’d called the station, but I had a hunch she wasn’t going to shoot me down like she usually did.

  “Vaughan? Vaughan from White Trash Circus?”

  “Awww you remembered me.” I smiled, trying not to see the irony that it was exactly two weeks ago since we’d last spoken. She’d told me they didn’t take unsolicited calls to get music played on air and then laughed at our name saying she’d never heard of the band.

  And yet, there we were.

  “Of course, I remember you.” Her voice so sticky sweet I was at risk of developing diabetes. “You’re my favorite person in the world. And I’m so glad that you called me, you want me to patch you through to Jasper on the air?”

  Yeah, I thought so. She might be lying through her teeth about giving two shits about me, but she knew dollar signs when she saw them.

  “That would be grand, Amy. I’d love to talk to Jasper.”

  Love might have been too strong a word considering he wouldn’t have been my first, second or third choice. But all the good DJs didn’t come on until drive time so it was either chat to Jasper or hide out in the parking lot of a Giant Eagle until then.

  Not happening.

  “Great. Now don’t hang up, okay. I need you to stay on the line,” she warned, the sweetness gone and in its place a FBI negotiator trying to secure the release of hostages from a terrorist. “I’m going put you through in just a minute.”

  She’d over estimated, the pop of my call being taken off hold exactly thirty seconds later.

  “Vaughan Hale, this is Jasper and you’re on the air. How are you doing, buddy? People are turning over the city looking for you.”

  “Yeah, I was out of cell range,” I lied, rolling my eyes. “And I am doing . . . okay.”

  That might have been a lie too considering I hadn’t had time to evaluate exactly how I was feeling. Still, I wasn’t calling in for a therapy session, so my feelings weren’t really the point.

  “Anyway, I just wanted to say that I appreciate all the messages and likes on the post and I want the fans to know that this will not end me. I’m going to come back heavier and harder than ever, and rest assured I’m going to shake the ’Burgh to its foundations.”

  “Wow, sounds great. Have you spoken to Connor or Lindsey?”

  “Those two ass—”

  “Oh, hey, Vaughan, we’re live. Can’t have you saying things that are going to get us shut down by the FCC,” Jasper laughed, cutting me off before I could finish my colorful description.

  “Right. Yeah, maybe it’s best we don’t talk about them then.” I coughed, not having it in me to find something nice to say.

  “Probably for the best.” He chuckled. “Hey, why don’t we talk about your plans for the future? You going to hold auditions for a new guitarist? We could run a competition for you? Find you the best one in the state.”

  “Dude, I’m not interested in becoming a fuu, I mean, freaking reality show.” There’d be a cold day in hell before I’d do that.

  “You’re kidding, right? You know what an amazing opportunity it would be? How many bands would kill for that kind of exposure?” I heard the disbelief in his voice, like he couldn’t believe I’d had the stones to decline.

  “Yeah, not going to happen.”

  There was a beat of dead air where I wasn’t sure if I’d lost connection. But I could hear the squirrely little bastard still breathing so I guess he just wasn’t used to being told no.

  “Okay, well fine.” He tried to recover. “Hey, why don’t we take some callers? Hear what the people have to say.”

  The “sure” I was about to say got stuck in my throat, the hesitation something that seemed new to me.

  It sounded like a bad idea.

  So incredibly bad that the only part of my subconscious brain that had anything smart to say was screaming at me to say goodbye and hang up.

  “End the call, Vaughan.” I heard it echo in my head, reinforcing what I already knew.

  “Vaughan!”

  My head snapped, the voice so loud I’d assumed someone else had said it. But when I looked over at Nico—the only other person in the car with me—he was squinting at me like he had no idea why I was suddenly giving him attention. He’d pulled over, letting the car idle in the abandoned parking lot of a closed strip mall. And it was clear I was either hearing voices in my head or he’d become a ventriloquist. And let’s face it, Nico wasn’t that talented.

  “Hey Jasper, got to go.” I killed the call, not bothering to give him the chance to say goodbye or convince me otherwise.

  “Well, that went different from how I imagined it.” I shrugged, feeling no better for it. “Can you believe the nerve of that guy suggesting we hold auditions with the station? Like that wasn’t the worst idea ever.”

  Nico grimaced, weighing his words before he spoke them like he knew I wasn’t going to be a fan. “I didn’t think it was a totally bad idea, they’d have more reach than we have. Might have been a good way to find—”

  He didn’t get to finish his sentence, my ring tone breaking the silence with the caller ID displaying an unidentified number.

  It was probably Jasper, no doubt pissed I’d hung up on him without letting him get in the last word. Well screw him, and his shady idea.

  My chest expanded, the smile on my face not allowing him the courtesy of a greeting. “I’m not sure why you think I’d suddenly want to turn my band into an episode of The Bachelor to boost your ratings, but it ain’t going to happen. So why don’t you save us both the time, because honestly, you asked me twice and I said no and now it’s just embarrassing.”

  “Are you done?” A female voice I didn’t recognize responded. “Or do you want to keep going with your one-sided conversation a little longer?”

  Wow, what? She didn’t sound mad but she wasn’t amused either. Her voice steady and controlled with so little emotion I had no choice but to pay attention.

  “Good, I’ll take your silence as a sign you’re finished. My name is Gillian, and I’m assuming you’re Vaughan Hale.”

  “Yeah, I’m Vaughan.”

  “Great, nice to know I haven’t wasted a complete morning tracking you down. I’m from Domination Music Group, and we’d like to have a conversation.”

  Domination Music Group was a progressive label, who, unless you’d been in a coma for the last ten years, you’d have heard of. While the big boys out of New York were recycling same-ole-same-ole, Domination took chances and signed new acts no one would give a second look to. And a phone call from them was akin to a nod from the capo of “the family.”

  No one was ever the same after it.

  They either made you. Or broke you.

  “You want to have a conversation?” I repeated, stalling while I tried to find something more intelligent to say.

  “Yes, other than the one we are currently having on the phone. In person is preferable.”

  She was ice cold, almost impersonal and to the point with such a snap that I wasn’t sure if I should be impressed or annoyed she didn’t seem to give a shit. But I wasn’t an idiot either, and while my judgment was still questionable, there wasn’t a chance I was telling Gillian from Domination anything but yes.

  “Okay, sure. Where do you want to meet, and when?”

  “We have a room at the Westin on Penn, you know where that is? Let’s say two o’clock. We’ll leave your name at the front desk.”

  “Downtown? You’re here, in Pittsburgh?”

  If it had been any other label I might have been able to hide my surprise, but Domination was like the hot girl in high school. You showed your interest, and if fate was smiling on you and she found you worthy, you were summoned. She never chased, and sure as shit didn’t come down from her ivory tower to slum, or in this case, leave NYC.

  “Yes, we’ll expect you at two. Goodbye.” And just like that I was listening to dead air, the call ending almost before it had a chance to start.

  Whiplash.

  All I could do was stare at the cell in my hand and wonder if I hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing. It had been a strange morning so nothing seemed out of the realm of possibility.

  “Who was that?” Nico asked, confirming if nothing else, I had been on the phone with someone. Well, at least I wasn’t totally losing it, always a plus.

  “Domination.”

  My one-word answer was all I was capable of giving, still not entirely sure what they wanted.

  Nico whipped his head around, his face screwed up in confusion. “That bondage shop on South Side?”

  “No, the music label, dumbass. They want to meet.”

  “Why?”

  Well wasn’t that the question of the fucking day.

  Who knew why? Considering I no longer had a band, it wasn’t likely to hand over a wad of cash and give me a deal. But then I wasn’t ruling it out either. I was a solid singer, maybe they wanted to see what I could do solo? I had promised to write the most epic music of all mankind.

  “Not sure, but I’m going to go and find out.”

  Beats the hell out of driving around in Nico’s Altima all day, and it was clear I couldn’t go back to my apartment right now. Not like I had a lot of other options. Unless I wanted to take up Jasper’s offer and hand out roses to guitarists and pick the one that didn’t get voted off the island. So yeah, no others worth considering.

  Nico tapped the steering wheel, putting the car in gear. “Okay, well I’m going to have to drop you off somewhere because I need to be at work soon.”

  Even if I had a job, I’d be blowing it off, the situation demanding attention. Granted, that was why I was probably currently unemployed, but still—it was like an emergency.

  “Work?” I shook my head. “You’re not seriously thinking about going to work are you?”

  First he was pissed I hadn’t included him in the decision to end the band, then he was blowing off a meeting with Domination. Seriously, he was worse than a child.

  “Yeah, Vaughan, work. I can’t afford to lose this job, I just started getting health benefits and the hours are good. Look, I’ll drop you off at your parents’ house and then we can catch up tonight after your meeting.” He didn’t wait for a reply, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

  The dude worked in the mailroom at PNC Bank, it wasn’t like he was scheduled to do heart surgery, but sure, whatever, I’d go on my own.

  “Fine. Go punch a clock and collect your health benefits.” I threw my hands up in disbelief. “It’s probably better you didn’t come anyway.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure that was true, but I wasn’t going to act like a pussy and beg him to come hold my hand.

  Nope.

  Fuck. That.

  I would do this on my own.

  Well, at least I would once I got to my parents’ house, and asked my dad to borrow his car. I’d probably have a lot of explaining to do, which would take more time than I wanted but it wasn’t like I could avoid it.

  After that, then it was all about me.

  Vaughan

  The room was stock standard for a fancy hotel. Heavy drapes, carpet your boots sunk into when you walked, and walls that looked so freshly painted I was surprised I couldn’t smell the fumes. No Holiday Inn for these folks, it was a flashy penthouse with a living room bigger than my whole apartment.

  “Something to drink?” A woman wearing glasses and a scowl directed me to a chair. She didn’t sound like the lady I’d spoken to on the phone, but her attitude was definitely on par.

  “Coffee would be good.” I decided to go the safe route, figuring my caffeine levels hadn’t caused tachycardia just yet so I was good.

  She turned, giving me a view of her unremarkable ass as she went to the bar area and poured me a cup. She wasn’t unattractive, but her vibe was decidedly unpleasant.

  I accepted the cup she handed me—no sugar, no cream and no fucking smile—and shot her my best attempt at charm. “So now you have me here, Gillian, what do you want to talk about?”

  If the ice queen was capable of surprise, she didn’t show it. Best I got was a raised eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching into what were the makings of a grin. “Oh, I’m not Gillian Duzan, I’m her assistant. Mr. Duzan will be with you shortly.”

  Well that was interesting.

  Her name was Gillian Duzan.

  It was probably no coincidence she had the same last name as the head honcho. Warrick Duzan was not only the founder of Domination but the CEO. And while he was a shark in business, he had a Baskin Robbins approach to marriage and liked to thirty-one flavor his wives. Hey, not that I was one to judge but by my limited knowledge, he’d been divorced like five times, which would probably make Gillian lucky number six.

  Fucking perfect.

  Just when I thought the conversation might be for something legit—not sure exactly for what considering I didn’t have a band but still—a whole heaping load of realty was dumped into my lap.

  Gillian no doubt had seen the noise online when she was busy Instagraming her morning latte and decided she needed a new plaything. Nothing like a bored rich wife who wasn’t getting enough attention at home to stoke a fire under her husband’s ass. She got a younger, more agile model to keep her happy and he got to do whatever he wanted to do without interruption. At least that was the way I assumed it worked, I’d seen enough movies to figure it out.

  And while I wasn’t on the cover for GQ, I knew I was a decent-looking dude. I worked out, kept myself in shape, and was never hurting for female attention. Whether it was random numbers stuffed into my pockets or more direct propositions, I wasn’t stupid enough to think it was my stellar personality that turned heads. Nope, girls liked what they saw even though for the most part I turned it down on account I had a woman. That had probably been my bad, keeping myself monogamous when it clearly hadn’t been a requirement. But even though I was obviously single, turning into a whore for some asshole’s wife hadn’t been the plan either.

  I was half way through my debate when old man Duzan walked in, he was alone—and unlike his wife’s assistant—he was grinning ear to ear.

  “Vaughan, thank you for joining us.” He strode through the room with a confidence that came with either a big dick or a fat bank account—I was guessing the latter—and extended his hand with no hesitation.

  Despite the urge to leave, I accepted the handshake, giving him my best I’m-not-going-to-fuck-your-wife smile.

  It wasn’t about me taking a moral high ground either. I wasn’t committed to anyone nor did I have an issue with fucking around. And lord knows, I could use the cash. But if I ever wanted to graduate from singing in seedy bars, then screwing Duzan’s wife didn’t seem smart. Last time I checked, I wasn’t Julia Roberts and I wasn’t going to end up with a fist full of cash—or in my case, a record deal—after it was over.

  “Hey, no problem. Happy to chat.”

  That wasn’t a lie. I was genuinely happy to chat; it was whatever else he might propose that I had a problem with.

  We both took a seat, him opposite me, and with a flick of his wrist he made the nameless assistant disappear. Probably better for all concerned if there were no witnesses.

  “Do you know who I am?” He tilted his head, waiting for my answer.