“Hack is such an ugly word.” I shrug off the question.
“Glad I won’t be in the truck with you two later,” he mutters.
“Fuck.”
“What?”
“I recognize this guy.” Middle-aged, sweaty, black polo shirt, khaki pants—he defines out-of-place at a country concert in the heat of the summer. “He was at the Wellspring show. I’m almost positive.”
“So?”
I flick through the photos he’s posted. “Shit, he’s seen her in concert more than I have.”
“Everyone needs a hobby. Don’t be so judgmental.”
I grab a few screenshots of the guy’s page and shove my phone in my pocket. “What’s with you saying she’s your sister, by the way?”
He shrugs. “I figured that would shut them up and take the attention off you.”
I slap his chest with the back of my hand. “Thanks.”
“You need me to go to the show with you tonight?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“She’s playing there tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Should be fun.”
Finally, the inane interview ends. Scotty boy tries the whole “let me take you to dinner” thing with Shelby but she shuts him down fast. I’m so eager to get her alone, I’m practically vibrating out of my skin.
“Thanks so much, Shelby.” Junior shakes her hand as they step out of the studio.
The assistant who’d set Shelby up with her microphone and headset earlier returns with a camera. The three of them stand in front of the station logo, posing for a few shots.
My eyes are glued to Shelby, so the second Scotty drapes his arm over her shoulder, my whole body tenses.
“Easy,” Jigsaw warns. “Jesus.”
Easy nothing. Five seconds later, Scotty “accidentally” brushes his fingers over Shelby’s breast. Back and forth. The twitch at the corners of his mouth announces it’s a deliberate move.
“Get off me!” Shelby’s outraged shriek propels me across the room.
But I don’t have time to wrap my hands around Scotty’s neck. Shelby reels back and brings her knee straight up into his groin.
“Oof.” He doubles over.
Jigsaw bursts out laughing. “Good job, Shelby.”
Junior backs away from Shelby with his hands in the air, like she randomly decided to go on a ball-breaking spree for no reason.
“You need a leash on your boy, Junior,” she snaps.
Scotty’s still wailing over his aching balls. I lift my foot and press my boot to his chest, kicking him onto his back. I lean over and grab a handful of his shirt, yanking him up into my face. “You’re lucky she got to you before I did. That kick to your nuts is gonna feel like a tickle compared to what I’ll do if you ever come near her again.”
“She’s a crazy bitch!” he gasps.
I release his shirt and wrap my hand around his throat. “You wanna repeat that?”
He gasps and scratches at my hand.
“I saw you try to cop a feel, motherfucker,” I snarl right in his face. “Pretty sure your assistant got it on film.”
“It was an accident! I didn’t mean any harm. Everyone knows we joke around here!”
I squeeze his neck a little harder. The edgy, off-color jokes were bad enough. But that’s the show’s gimmick. I don’t like it or respect it, but it’s business. “She agreed to sit through forty-five minutes of your shitty attempts at humor—not a grope from your fat little sausage fingers.”
“I…I…” he gasps.
“What?” I release him and he falls to the floor, choking and coughing. “You got more excuses?”
“Call security!” he says to Junior.
“No need. We’re leaving.” I squat next to Scotty and lean in close. “If you even think of using whatever power you think you have to trash talk her or fuck with her career in any way, I’ll be back.” I stand and stare down at him, adjusting my cut and running my hands through my hair. “My next warning won’t be as friendly, Scotty.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Shelby
The three of us are silent on the way to the parking garage. I’m too stunned to speak. Jigsaw’s jittery, like he’s eager to get the hell away from us. And Rooster’s jaw is so tight I’m afraid he’s gonna crack a tooth or ten.
Jigsaw slaps Rooster’s hand. “Meet you at the arena.” He nods to me. “Later.”
“Thanks for coming.” I’m still embarrassed that he watched that jerk grope me. But it was awfully nice of Jigsaw to get up so early to help Rooster protect me and watch that hot mess.
“Anytime, Shelby.”
When we’re alone in the truck, I rest my cheek against the window. The cool glass soothes my overheated face. “What a disaster.”
“The whole interview was a joke from the jump.” Rooster’s