Managed: A VIP Novel Part 42

"You should be extremely worried about what the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l Killian thinks of you. The band's welfare should be your top priority, d.a.m.n it."

"It's obviously yours," I snap.

"Of course it is." He slashes the air with his hand. "I'm their G.o.dd.a.m.n manager! What did you think?"

"I thought," I answer with a shaking voice, "I meant enough to you that you wouldn't make ugly a.s.sumptions. That you wouldn't worry about soothing Killian's feelings at the expense of mine."

All emotion wipes from his face, and he straightens to his full height, rolling his shoulders back as if to brace himself. "This is real life, Sophie. Not some movie. You don't get to use this as some test to see how much I'll blindly accept, as if that somehow will make me worthy of you."

I stand there, mouth open, unable to form a word. A test? He thinks this is some stupid test? But a small, dark part of me wonders, am I testing him?

I would explain all of it if he gave me half a chance to get a word in.

And yet I am hurt that he immediately thought the worst of me. How could I not be? We're better than this. I gave him my heart; I would never intentionally hurt him or anyone he loves. If he doesn't know that now, I'm not sure he ever will.

His voice is cold and methodical as he keeps picking, his f.u.c.king logic stomping on my heart with every word. "You think I don't understand what you're doing? Give me a little credit. I know you as well as you know me. Did it become too much fun, believing you could manage me?"

This pain is dull and hollow, and somehow worse because of it. I close my eyes against him. "First I'm a sleazy schemer, and now I'm some jerk who enjoys leading you around by the b.a.l.l.s for fun? Is that it?"

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it, you don't get to be the injured party here. Not this time."

My eyes snap open. He looks so genuinely put out and hurt that I don't know what to say. But I won't apologize now, that's for d.a.m.n sure.

"Well, too bad, because I am injured. And you don't get to tell me how to feel." I take a step closer, my fists balling at my sides. "And right now, you're making it really f.u.c.king hard not to hate you."

He rocks back on his heels. Silence wells up between us like a living, dark thing. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and unsteady.

"You have always pushed me to express myself. This is me expressing myself. I can concede that I need to let myself live more in the moment and enjoy life. But you, Sophie Darling, need to grow the h.e.l.l up and take responsibility when things go into the s.h.i.+tter. And if you cannot do that, you don't belong on this tour."

I hear him. I know he's right about this. But his ugly conclusions and the way he jumped to them loom large as well.

Licking my dry lips, I make my voice as calm as I can manage. "Right now, the tour and whether I should be on it are the least of my worries."

He frowns, tilting his head as if he can't understand me. Part of me wants to laugh, only I know I'll end up crying. Maybe we are too different, our priorities too far apart.

A knock on the suite door has us both flinching. Gabriel turns toward it, his mouth pinched, weariness lining his face. In this light, he's almost haggard. He runs a hand over his eyes.

"That's Jules. She's here to give me an update-"

"I'll leave you to it." On wooden limbs, I head to the bedroom.

He doesn't try to stop me.

And I don't cry once I close the door behind me. I pack.

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

Gabriel

"Report?" I ask from one of suite's dining room chairs. My head is too heavy to hold itself up, so I rest it in the cradle of my hands.

"The girl you caught on the elevator is Jennifer Miller. She's a roadie, working in lighting." Jules's voice is hesitant and soft.

Regrettable, but apparently I'm quite good at cowing women. A lance of pain drives through my heart. I clear my throat, having trouble finding my voice.

"Go on."

Jules takes a breath that sounds more like a sigh. "According to her statement, she'd been wanting to hook up with Jax. When she saw him having trouble getting to the elevator, she offered to help."

Well, give the girl points for being an opportunist. I shouldn't care, but I'm so b.l.o.o.d.y bitter at the moment, it's all I can do not to sneer.

"And that c.o.c.kw.a.n.k? How did he get in?"

From between my fingers, I see Jules's lip quirk in a smile before she presses down on them. "He, ah, approached them at the elevator. Told Jennifer he was an old friend of..." Jules coughs, her eyes darting away.

"Of Sophie's?" I offer. G.o.dd.a.m.n it, it hurts to say her name. I don't know how I manage to utter it without inflection.

Sophie. She retreated to our bedroom after I ripped into her worse than anyone I've ever had a go at. She went with quiet dignity, and I felt small and full of regret. I don't even remember the last person I cared about with whom I've truly lost my temper. There's a reason for that. I cut people open with my words, as surely as a surgeon with a scalpel.

That f.u.c.ktrumpet Martin, however... My hands curl into fists. It's all I can do not to hunt the t.i.t down and bash his f.u.c.king gob in. A shudder works through me. I'm regressing back to my feral youth, when I was a few steps away from becoming a chavvy thug.

Jules watches me with weary eyes.

I force what I hope is a bland expression. "Well?"

"Yes, that's what he said. And he offered to give them a hand. Jax let them both up."

My hand is cold and clammy as I rub it over my face. "What happened in the room?"

"Ah, Jennifer says she started...ah, making out with Jax. He didn't appear to mind."

Which means he was so out of it, he let the twit do what she wanted. I wave a hand, encouraging Jules to speed things up. I can hardly stomach sitting here, listening to this. I want to pace. I want to hunt down Sophie and crawl into bed with her, beg her to forgive me for shouting.

No, I cannot be a complete doormat. She was in the wrong too. She lied, refused to explain, and held my exacting nature over my head. We'll never go forward on equal ground if I'm the only one to admit my failings.

It's not like you gave her much of a chance to explain, mate.

It's not as though she tried to explain.

Sod it all, I'm arguing with myself now.

Jules is talking, and I force myself to focus.

"...Martin started taking pictures of them. Said he thought they looked cute together and Jennifer would like a..." Jules winces. "A souvenir."

"f.u.c.king h.e.l.l."

"Yeah," she agrees quietly. "Anyway, Jax suddenly threw up. On Jennifer."

She pauses, and our eyes meet. I can't help but smile a little. Jules does too.

"Go on," I say, fighting that smile.

"She runs, gets caught by Sophie, who apparently detained her, demanding to know what was going on, and tried to drag her back to the scene."

My Sophie. She'd acted as I would have. Guilt settles in my throat like shards of gla.s.s.

"Jennifer broke free, and presumably that's when you found her in the elevator."

"Yes." It had been an unwelcome surprise to discover a hysterical, vomit-covered woman in the elevator when the doors opened. Killian and I had stared at her in shock before snapping out of it and delivering her directly to a security guard manning the area.

With a sigh, I sit back in my chair. I ache. All over. And I know it is from sorrow. "Relay all of this to Killian and the rest of the guys." Since I know full-well Killian will have told them everything by now. "I don't want them thinking badly of Sophie."

It hurts to say. It hurts to even think. Sophie hadn't understood that the mere idea of them disliking her would be a wound in my heart. She's too important to me for there to be discord.

Jules nods. "And Jennifer?"

"She's out. Give her two weeks severance and a ticket home."

"I'm guessing not in first cla.s.s?" Jules's joke falls flat. And her smile dies. "Too soon?"

Not bothering to answer, I stand and squeeze the back of my stiff neck. "And go over the NDA she signed. Make certain she understands the repercussions if she talks."

We both turn at a noise from the living area. Sophie stands at the threshold to the dining room. Her hair hangs damp and limp around her shoulders. She appears smaller somehow, diminished. The light has gone out of her pretty eyes.

I did that to her. My heart thumps in my chest, pus.h.i.+ng against my ribs, which squeeze tight at the sight of her.

"Sophie. We were finis.h.i.+ng up here."

"Yeah, I see that." She sounds like a ghost of herself.

Dimly, I'm aware of Jules leaving. I only have eyes for Sophie, however.

Silence ticks by. I take a step in her direction, but her voice stops me.

"You were right. I don't belong on this tour. It's no longer fun for me."

"Fun?" The word is like a slap to the face.

"Yeah, fun. You know that concept you have a hard time embracing?"

I wince.

And she winces too. "I'm sorry. That was s.h.i.+tty. I didn't mean it."

"You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it," I say quietly.

Her eyes narrow. "So you meant every word you said to me then?"

There's a trap here. I can see it laid out, waiting for me to fall into. Only I have no idea how to circ.u.mvent the d.a.m.n thing.

"I shouldn't have shouted at you," I say. "I regret being so..." Vicious. "Aggressive."

"But you don't regret what you said." A flat statement.

Irritation flares. "What do you want me to say, Sophie? We had words. All couples fight." And then they make up. Why can't we get to the make up part of the program?

Apparently, we aren't anywhere near that segment.

Her expression goes colder. "Couples trust each other."

"This again? You lied to me," I bite out. And that hurt me. Somehow that is harder to admit.

"And I apologized," she snaps.

I should let it go. I know this. "You lied to me about someone who...f.u.c.k all, Sophie. He's been inside you."

I don't even know what I'm saying, only that the thought of him being with Sophie turns my stomach and makes me want to pummel something.

Her mouth falls open. "You're jealous? Of Martin?"

Her voice saying his name sets me off. "More like disgusted by your life choices."

s.h.i.+t.

She gasps. I can't take the words back.

"Sophie...I didn't-"

"First I'm immature, now I'm disgusting?"