can always call me. I’m safe, discreet, and I’m used to quirky musicians.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Just how many of us are you sleeping with?”
“Does it matter?”
I get up from the table and rinse my plate. “Guess not.” I think about what she said. I turn and lean against the counter. “On a scale of one to ten, exactly how quirky am I?”
“About three hundred and fifty,” she says without hesitation.
My stomach clenches. “Sounds about right.”
She motions to the door. “You’ll be leaving now, won’t you?”
“Can I use your shower first?”
“I’d prefer you didn’t. That’s my personal space. You understand.”
“Ronni, my dick was inside you last night.”
“That’s the only part of me it touched,” she mumbles in amusement.
“You are a prize,” I say sarcastically, striding over to pin her to the chair. “Just so we’re clear, this stays between us.”
“You think I want anyone knowing about this? Like I said, I’m discreet.”
I back away. “Okay then. I’m outta here. I’ve got stuff to do.”
“Like working on those songs?”
Damn. She’s not pulling any punches. I shoot her a furious scowl.
“What?” she asks. “Brianna and Crew can only carry you so long, you know. You’re the one who writes the music, not them. They’re the lyricists. But you’ve had them pulling double duty for months.”
“Seriously, Ronni? My mom’s body isn’t even fucking cold, and you’re bringing this shit up?”
“Someone has to.”
I pick up my jacket and cross to the door.
“Check your bank account,” she says. “Your royalties from the first album have started rolling in. I think you’ll find a sizeable amount was deposited this morning. Soon you’ll be getting even more from the second album. I meant it when I said I was going to make you rich. But you have to do your part, too, and get back to writing music.”
I wave dismissively and walk out, hearing nothing after she started talking about royalties. On the elevator, I pull out my phone and check my account. My eyes go wide and excitement courses through me when I see a balance with so many numbers I have to read it twice. I send a text.
Me: Check your bank account, then meet me at Dirk’s ASAP. I’m moving out.
I wait a few minutes for his reply.
Crew: Holy shit! I’ll be there by noon, brother.
I text Garrett and Brad, too, asking them to meet me at my uncle’s.
On the hour-long train ride from New York City to Stamford, I fantasize about being out from under Dirk’s thumb. For thirteen years he’s controlled everything in my life. Not anymore.
Guilt washes over me. If I’d gotten the money a week sooner, I could have moved Mom out of his house. Maybe then she wouldn’t have been so depressed all the time. Maybe then she wouldn’t have fallen and hit her head.
At the train station, I kick a brick wall waiting for my Uber, mad as hell at Dirk. He’ll get his due. Somehow I’ll make sure of it. I’ve got the ace in the hole to make it happen—when the time is right.
When my ride pulls up to his palatial estate, I’m happy to see my car parked around the side of the house. At least I didn’t drive in the state I was in. Crew and Bria arrive, and I greet them. Crew’s smile is huge. He knows what this means to me.
He pats me on the back. “I’m still sorry as hell about your mom, but damn, I’m glad you can finally get out of here.”
“Me too.”
Crew is the only person who knows about my past. The shitstorm that was my childhood. I was always there for him, and he’s there for me. Has been since we were kids.
“What happened to you last night?” Bria asks.
I’m relieved they don’t seem to know anything about Ronni, but I still have no clue how we ended up at her place. “Took a cab home. Slept it off.” That seems to placate both of them.
We go inside. The only person who sees us is Helen, the housekeeper. She smiles and keeps wiping Dirk’s plaques on the parlor wall. He loves to remind everyone how important he is. As the mayor and the owner of the largest car dealership in this part of Connecticut, his narcissism knows no bounds. If he has his way, he’ll be governor in a year, but not if I have anything to say about it. My life’s mission—other than being part of a successful rock band—is to bring him down.