Page 19 of Rescued By Four Alphas
"I said that's ENOUGH!" Rita's voice cuts through the chaos. "Derek, go clean yourself up. Axl, sit down before I call security."
Derek glares at me, then storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Marcus pushes me onto the couch. "What the hell, man? We don't hit bandmates."
"He crossed a line," I mutter, flexing my bruised knuckles.
"Yeah, he did," Luke agrees. "But so did you."
Rita kneels in front of me, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. "Axl, listen to me. You need to go home."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not." She takes my hands, forcing me to look at her. "You just punched your drummer three weeks before your album release. You're not fine. Go home. Be with Dahlia and the others. Let me handle the PR nightmare."
"What about rehearsal?" I ask.
"We'll reschedule," Marcus says. "Take a few days. We all need to cool off."
I run a hand through my hair. "And what happens then? To the album and the tour?"
Rita stands up, "First, we issue a statement. Something vague about respecting your privacy during this special time in your life. We neither confirm nor deny the pregnancy rumors."
"They're not rumors," I say. "Dahlia is pregnant."
"With your child?" Luke asks.
I hesitate. "It's complicated."
"That's exactly why we keep it vague," Rita taps something into her tablet. "The public doesn't need to know the details. What matters is protecting you, Dahlia, and your career."
The studio door opens, and Derek walks back in. His lip is swollen, and he won't look at me.
"I'm out of here," he mumbles, grabbing his jacket.
"Derek…" I start.
"Save it." He brushes past me. "I'll see you at rehearsal tomorrow. If you can be bothered to show up."
The door slams behind him again.
Luke sighs. "He'll cool off. You know how he gets."
"Will he?" I ask. "Because he's not entirely wrong. This album launch is important to all of us."
"And we'll figure it out," Marcus assures me. "But Rita's right. You should go home."
Rita hands me my jacket. "The car's waiting downstairs. I've texted your security team to meet you there."
"What about the paparazzi?" I ask. "They've been camping outside the studio all week."
"We'll create a diversion," she says. "Use the service entrance. I'll text you once we have a statement drafted."
I nod, suddenly exhausted. "Fine."
Marcus walks me to the door. "Don't worry about Derek. I'll talk to him."
"Tell him if he ever speaks about Dahlia like that again, he's dead to me."
