Page 41 of Paint the Town, Dove
I winced. Wouldn’t have been my first thought.
Scarlettsimply replied, “She embarrassed herself.”
Derek rubbed his temples. “You can’t have someone like that on our bad side.”
Okay, enough.“You fucking my ex, Spindly?” I stood up, assessing if this situation was worth worrying about. No doubt Derek was loyal to me. But Yas had a way of twisting your feelings, making them impossible to digest unless she was the one feeding you.
The boys got a kick out of that one. Scarlett and I remained weary, cautious.
Like always.
Even if they love you, she once told me,in the end,people will always do what’s best for them.
I thought of my mom, as my betraying eyes lingered on one of my closest friends.
“What the fuck kind of question is that?” Derek scoffed. “She’s not my fucking type.”
“You should be saying, ‘you’re my brother, Ryden,’” Scarlett rounded to my side, “I’d never do that to you.”
He softened, stepping forward. “We’re a unit man, Jaw & Lion. We crushed the charts these last few years. All that chick wants is our fame.” He clapped my shoulder. “I just don’t want you making any more enemies, giving any more record labels any bad ideas. We back you,” he squeezed, “we’re brothers.”
I nodded, struggling to trust.
I didn’t know what that word meant anymore.
“What’d she say to you, Scarlett?” Dean asked, picking at a protein bar from the vending machine.
I looked over, taking a breath. My nose itched. “Can’t say I’m not curious either, Dove.”
She crossed her arms. “Sometimes, spoiled brats need to be treated like poor rats.”
Donny laughed, tossing her a wink. “Our girl.”
It was never addressed again. The band trekked about in conversation, talking about the flight out tomorrow, having a good bender for the week before soundcheck. Jaw & Lion would be playing at Radio City, and then the tour was over.
I turned off my brain (wasn’t hard), staring into the orbit that was Scarlett Emory-Blake. Fuck, I wanted her to expand, knew there was more to what she told me and the guys. Or maybe I just wanted her to face me, to hear her voice as she said my name.I’m not disappointed in you, Ryden,I’d have her say.
But she’d never lie to me.
And I wasn’t ready to hear the truth.
“Did you talk to her, Ryden?” Dean. Dean was facing me.
“Talk to who?”
He looked at me funny. “Yasmine.”
I cleared my throat. “Uh, yeah. Briefly.”
“Must’ve been one hell of a conversation,” Scarlett sniffed, unamused.
Derek asked, “She say anything noteworthy?”
I shook my head. “Same old snake tongue.”
The boys chuckled, each coming up to slap my shoulder, cheek, giving me a bump before filing out. “My man,” Dean said, leaning in low. “You sure everything’s good?”
Dean was always the realest, the oldest out of my crew, too. When I signed with Arc & Sheild Records, Tav (my band label manager) had already signed on Dean (thirty-four), Derek (twenty-six) and Donny (twenty-nine). All different guys, kind of up and coming minusDean who’d been floating between indie bands for a while. Tav said we’d have a good sound together, that we should try it out. Our different strengths would unite us.
