Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
“The world must be on fire if you’re bothering to show your face,” I greeted the suited man approaching me in a blue tailored suit.
As usual he’d forgone a tie, so the top few buttons of his white shirt and suit jacket were left undone, exposing the deep-brown skin of his chest. Xavier Gray, recently forty, stroked his beard trimmed close while his dark brown gaze studied me. His black hair was also cut close and had the appearance of waves so deep they made me seasick whenever I looked at them.
Gray became our manager about a year or so after we signed to Savant. According to him, it was the least he could do after we saved his son, who was now a big-time rapper, from sharing our fate. Raleigh, who’d been nineteen at the time and dead set on fulfilling his dreams, hadn’t been willing to listen to his father. The details of how it led to us stepping in were murky, but what mattered now is that it had done some good.
Raleigh signed with a record label that wasn’t shady and was now at the top of his game. It was just one reason Carl was determined to take us down, and Braxton was his way to do it.
“Not quite,” Xavier answered as he slapped hands with me. “How’s it going with your newest addition?”
“You’d know if you brought your ass down sooner to meet her.”
He gave me a look as if I were insane. “You mean leave Portland willingly? Pass. I hate L.A. You know that.”
I scratched my chin, the lie already on my tongue. “It’s not that bad.”
“So you’re not itching to get back home?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” He peered at me then. “You sleeping all right?”
“Like a log,” I answered shortly, hoping he didn’t push. It’s been nearly a year since I gave them cause for concern. I didn’t need to be coddled.
Reading the “fuck off” written on my forehead, Xavier nodded before letting it go. I exhaled loudly, making him smirk before asking, “Where are your boys?” He immediately looked around as if he could find the answer for himself.
I shrugged, truly not knowing or caring. Houston and Loren had disappeared, losing interest in the scene as soon as Braxton had been pulled away for hair and makeup. I stuck around to make sure at least one of us was easily found in case…I don’t really know. Braxton would chew off her own arm before ever admitting needing us. She put on a brave face, but I was getting good at reading her.
With only a couple of months left until the tour, it was time to introduce Braxton to the world. It was only a week ago that we’d finally assured our fans the tour would go on as scheduled. We hadn’t mentioned the fact that we didn’t have a choice. It didn’t matter. Braxton was good and getting better every day. She’d be ready. Houston’s determination not to be bested by Carl would make sure of it.
Because the alternative, extending our contract in exchange for a guitarist with more experience, made me want to put a bullet in my brain.
Carl had not only underestimated us, but he’d clearly underestimated Braxton. If she hadn’t impressed us with her performance at that festival weeks ago, he might have gotten what he wanted. We were desperately holding on to the past and too proud to admit that we weren’t ready to walk away. It meant giving up on Bound…and each other.
Five years ago, I would have jumped off a cliff, confident that my best friends would magically sprout wings and catch me before I fell. Now I wouldn’t so much as cross the street without my own two eyes to guide me. Loren would probably push me in front of a bus just because it’s Tuesday.
It was an unholy thing to resent the dead, but if I could bring Calvin back to life, I would without hesitation. All so I could kill him myself. We never let him in, so he ripped us apart instead. By the time we’d caught on to the slow yet agonizing rip, it was already too late. Mistrust and resentment had sunk its claws deep, and though Calvin was dead, we still bore the scars.
The clench in my jaw slackened when Braxton appeared, forcing my thoughts to flee.
Artificial lighting shone on every inch of the dilapidated space. Somehow, she was still the brightest thing in the room.
The ripped jeans and cropped pullover she’d worn to the shoot was gone. In their place, she now wore a tiny number that stopped above her unmarred knees. The A-line dress had long mesh lantern sleeves and an empire waistline. The black pleated material looked like velvet, drawing the light whenever she moved. She was so damn enticing that I couldn’t decide if she was wearing a dress or lingerie.