I barely remember our set,my mind a million miles away as I play. My hands know exactly what to do since my bass is practically another limb for me, so I don’t have to put a lot of effort into the music. That’s probably a shit thing for me to say, but tonight it’s the truth.
All I care about is getting off stage and finding Taryn.
Ryleigh found me just before the show, telling me she’s worried about Taryn too. Secrets suck, and I now have a much better understanding about what Angus went through when he didn’t feel like there was a good time to tell us his true identity or about his billionaire family. It’s different because it was his own situation, not someone else’s, but it’s similar in theory.
“Hey.” Ryleigh comes over to me once we’re done playing and whispers in my ear. “If you go to the green room, there’s a private dressing room in the back. It has two doors—one leads back into the green room and the other leads out to a back hall they use to sneak VIPs out to the exit. I don’t know exactly where it goes but if you and Taryn lock yourselves in the dressing room, you can go out the VIP entrance and figure it out while she can go through the green room. Even if someone sees her, they won’t think anything of it because you’ll be far away.”
“You are the best!” I lean over to kiss her forehead.
I grab a towel and a bottle of water so I can hydrate while I wait for Karnal Death to get on stage.
I feel like a teenager trying to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night without my parents finding out, and I never even did that then, much less now. Normally, I wouldn’t play games like this but Taryn’s situation with Toby is different. He’s just a kid—a really sick kid—and I understand that she’ll do whatever is necessary to make sure he has what he needs. If it was my kid, I’d beg, borrow and steal to make sure he gets the right treatment.
But if Callum is hitting her… that’s a different level of abuse. Verbal abuse is bad, but it’s not the end of the world since there’s an end date. Emotional abuse is worse, and while it makes me want to beat the shit out of him, she only has three or four months left.
Physical abuse is a big fat no.
Except Toby’s life is on the line.
If I had the money—or even the credit to borrow it for her—I would.
But short-term, I’m broke as fuck.
There’s no way I can ask my parents for ten or fifteen grand, and while I could potentially ask Sasha for an advance, I know how ridiculous it sounds to do something like that for a woman I’ve spent a total of about a week with over more than four years. I’m crazy about her, but am I in a position to sacrifice my financial stability for a kid that’s not mine and someone I’ve never even met?
I make my way to the dressing room attached to the green room and sink into one of the chairs. Both doors lock, so once Taryn gets here, we might have a modicum of privacy to talk.
The knob turns, and I look up as she comes into the room.
Damn, now that she’s up close in bright light, she looks tired. Like she hasn’t slept since New York.
And all my doubts begin to melt away.
“Hey.” I reach out a hand but instead of taking it, she vaults herself against my chest. My arms close around her and I hold her tight. “It’s okay, babe. Whatever it is, we’re going to figure it out.”
“Just hold me,” she whispers. “Please.”
“I’m right here.”
We stay like that for a long time.
I’m perched on the edge of a dressing table and she’s nestled against my chest, her head resting on my shoulder.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Babe, I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”
“You can’t help even if I do. I asked you to be my friend. To let me vent. To give me a shoulder to cry on. That’s all anyone can do. Please don’t ask for more, Mick.”
“Babe.” I pull away enough to force her to lift her head. Once she’s looking at me, I take her chin between two fingers. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not the way you’re thinking,” she whispers, her eyes puddling with tears. “I’m okay. Everything is status quo. He makes the next payment day after tomorrow and then we’re down to three.”
“Tell. Me. What. He. Did.” My pulse is racing, but I try to keep my voice neutral as I stare into her pretty face. I know we’re getting into dangerous territory, but I can’t sit by and do nothing. I just can’t.
“He…” She swallows. “It doesn’t matter.”