Page 18 of Behind the Lyrics
“What does it say?” Did I really want to know, though? “Are they speculating how long I’ve stayed clean this time?” Pointless drivel always abounded when my name came up.
“No. Most people are curious about the DJ. It seems they’re digging up all kinds of dirt on her. Did you know the police were called to her house when she was married and domestic abuse charges were filed, but later dismissed?”
“What?” I snatched the phone from him and scrolled. Dozens of stories, most of them less than flattering, flooded the feed. I could handle gobshite about me because, at the end of the day, all publicity sold records. But my Angel?No, she doesn’t deserve this.Typical of me to worry about myself first, and not even consider what my attention on her might do to her career, her life, and her feelings.
Fear and uncertainty pooled in my veins, driving me to text Andy to get her mobile number. After a couple of minutes, I sent her a message.
Me:Angel, it’s Viktor. I want to apologize for last night. I’m a total shit.
I sat on the stool, hunched over like an old man, my eyes glued to the screen, waiting for those three dots to light up and show me she was responding.
Nothing. But I knew she’d seen my message.
“Hey, we gonna do the next set or what, Viktor?” Alan asked with a flamboyant tap on his cymbals.
“I’m rather busy at the moment.” I didn’t bother looking up, but I imagined them staring at each other in confusion.Fuck ’em. This is more important because there can’t be an Operation Angel Seducer if the angel won’t give me the time of day.
Me:Please. I’m sorry. Sometimes… Okay, most of the time, I’m a dick, I know, but I didn’t mean to put you in the spot you’re in now.
The little dots appeared, and I gripped the mobile tighter, dreading yet anticipating her response. Would she be pissed, pleased, or patronizing?
Angel:For the past six months, I’ve rebuilt myself one day at a time. In one night, Viktor Farrow, the British hurricane, came in and swept everything into the open, and now everyone thinks… Well, it doesn’t matter what they think, I guess.
Me:I swear I’m sorry. I’ll hunt every one of the bastards down and kill them. Just say the word.
Angel:Stay away, Viktor. I can’t take the turmoil, insecurity, and anxiety you bring into my life. I wish you well and hope your comeback is a success. I’m blocking your number after this text. Goodbye.
What in the bloodyhell? Surely, she jested about blocking me. I tested the theory. After five messages and no response, agitation twisted in my veins. I’d said I was sorry, what more did she want? Flowers and chocolate? Fuck. I’d never bought a woman gifts before, and I’dneverapologized, yet in the span of less than twenty-four hours, I’d groveled twice. What was happening to the God of Rock?
He’s becoming a fucking sap, that’s what’s happening.
I rang Clive. “Bring the car ’round. I need to get to K-ROC.”
“Okay, boss, but it’ll be an hour or so. They’re still detailing the SUV to get the piss smell out.”
I hung up and looked around the room, where everyone milled about, casting surreptitious glances my way. “Alan, give me the keys to your bike.”
“W-what?” He set down a drumstick and shoved his hand to a pocket. “Why?”
“Because I need to be somewhere in a hurry and don’t have time to wait.” I stalked toward him. “Now.”
His fingers pulled out a key fob, and he tossed it to me. “Just be careful with her, okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll buy you a new one if I put so much as a scratch on her.”
Face torn between concern and curiosity, he finally nodded.
“Wait.” The sound engineer pushed open the door. “We need to get this stuff hashed out. You’re contracted to—”
“We can work everything out tomorrow. Right now, I’ve got somewhere more important to be.” What was I saying? This album and subsequent tour were the most important thing for my career right now, so why was I jeopardizing this deal? Because I was worried about Angela?I’m losing my goddamn mind.
Ignoring the surly comments and unbelieving stares, I shouldered my way out of the studio and into the oven called Arizona, located the Harley, and revved it up. With a quick snap of the helmet on my head, I tore down the street and onto the lonely highway, angling directly for the shithole station from hell housing such a sweet, intriguing angel.
This is just an infatuation. That’s all.Which made total sense for my plan of seduction to work.
After all, I need to be attracted to make this delicious operation believable, right?
Chapter 17
