Prove Me Right (9 page)

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Authors: Anna Brooks

Tags: #It's Kind of Personal, #Book 3

BOOK: Prove Me Right
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“Where is he now?”

“He went to a nursing home.”

“Aww, that’s so sad. And his kids didn’t want the house?”

“No, apparently not.”

“I don’t even know if we’d need to get this fenced in. It’s so big.” More or less, I’m saying this to myself because I know privacy is important to Liam.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just talking to myself. God, can you imagine what this will look like once it’s cleaned up?” I point at the overgrown backyard. Huge weeping willows are off in the distance, a row of evergreens taller than the house line one side, and on the other, a row of apple trees.

“I can only imagine. It’s a great property.”

“A great place to raise a family.”

She laughs. “Yes, it is. I would have loved to have had this much space as a kid. Did you grow up in the city?”

“Well, the suburbs, but it was an older subdivision so the homes still had land surrounding them. Liam actually lived next door to me.”

“Really? That is so cool. So how long have you guys been together then?”

I walk down the back steps and push the tall grass down with my wedge sandals until I reach the side of the house with the evergreens. They’re so tall, so beautiful.

“The question is really how long have we not been together.” I laugh. “We grew up together, literally. We’re only a couple of months apart and our moms are friends. There has always been something between us since I can remember. God, I think I was like twelve when I first realized I was in love with him.”

“Wow. That is such a neat story. I’m so happy for you guys.”

“Yeah, me too.” I smile and rub my belly, anxious to start the next part of our lives together.

Chapter 9

Liam

“OH, MY GOD, LEE.
I found it.” Meara’s smile is evident in her voice and I walk off the bus away from the noise so I can hear her better. It’s been two and a half months since I last saw her. And since then, she’s found something wrong with every single house she’s looked at. She’s constantly sending me links to houses, and most of them look fine to me, but when she gets back from a showing, she’s always pissed because there was something wrong.

I was completely serious when I told her I didn’t give a shit what the house looked like. Yet, she insists on sending me pictures and asking what I think. It could be a mansion or a shack, and I honestly could not give one fuck.

Her frustration lately with not finding one has been hard for her. I wish I were there to help. I even told her to wait for me, but she’s determined to have a home for me to come home to instead of her apartment.

“Which one?”

“You haven’t seen it yet. It just came on the market last night and I did a walk-through this morning. It’s perfect. Ten acres!” She laughs. “So, it’s definitely private. It’s outdated, so we’d have to update everything. I think I could get it done by the time you’re finished with the tour.”

The fact that she is so damn excited is something that makes me really fuckin’ happy. That’s all I want … to make her happy. “Sounds good.”

“Lee, I want it.”

“So take it. E-mail me the papers and I’ll sign them and send ‘em back for the offer.”

“I’ll just bring them tonight.”

“All right.” I’m so looking forward to seeing her tonight. I miss the hell out of her and am counting down the days until finally, fucking finally, we can move on with our lives. I’m dying for the day we can wake up in our own house together.

“Don’t you even want to see it?”

“Meara, if it makes you happy, I’ll be fine. I’ve already told you I don’t care.”

“Okay. You’re gonna love it. I just know you will!”

The guys all pile off the bus and Jamie looks at his pretend watch.

“I’ve gotta go. We have an interview before the show tonight.”

“I’m so excited to see you!” She squeals and I picture her jumping up and down.

“Me too, princess.”

“Liam!” Jamie yells.

I hold up my middle finger at him and he laughs. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Okay, see you tonight. Love you,” she sings.

“You, too.” I stumble a bit as I walk over the curb, but Jamie catches me.

“The fuck, man? You wasted already?”

“I tripped, Jamie. Get off me.” I push him away and walk toward the radio station. Despite being pissed at my brother for always assuming the worst in me, I inhale the refreshing Midwestern air. We don’t have time to do a song, only a quick interview since the show is in about four hours. The only reason we squeezed this one in was because they were the first radio station that played our music. We try to be as loyal as we can be, especially to those who gave us a chance first.

The second I walk into the small room, my radar goes off. I’ve never met this DJ before, and something about him rubs me the wrong way. He thinks he’s the shit. He’s got that wannabe rocker look going on—too much product in his hair and a band t-shirt that was reproduced, not actually bought at a concert.

“Hey, guys.” He sticks his hand out, and we all do the introductions. “I’m gonna introduce you on the air then play a song of yours, then we’ll do a round of Q and A before I play another song. I know you guys are in a hurry.”

“Yeah, sounds great, man,” Mike says, and we all slide onto a stool and pull on a pair of headphones.

The DJ, who calls himself Reed, introduces us and thanks us for being here. Mike makes small talk about the tour, where we’re playing tonight, the usual shit. I just sit there and twirl in the chair until the song is over, ignoring Reed’s banter with the rest of the band.

“And we’re back with Reason to Ruin. We have Mike, Gabe, Jamie, and Liam. So tell me, you guys have been together since what, you were eighteen?” Reed asks, his question directed at Mike.

Jamie’s the one who speaks up, though. “Actually, we’ve been playing together since we were thirteen. My brother, Liam, and I started the band out of our garage. Gabe and Mike joined shortly after. Our first song was at our eighth-grade graduation.” We all chuckle and Jamie continues. “But we did it for fun back then. Never would we have dreamed that we’d be where we are now.”

“Wow, I’d love to see a tape of that. What’s the biggest difference in your music now versus then?”

“It doesn’t suck now,” Mike jokes. “No, I think … I don’t know, man. We’re older now. Been through some shit. This is a tough industry. We take what we do very seriously and know how easily we can have it taken away from us. We’re definitely more careful with our decisions.”

“Are you talking about Liam’s near-death overdose a few years ago?”

My head snaps up, but before I can say anything, Jamie is up and out of his seat. Gabe grabs him, and I squint my eyes at Reed.

“Partly, yeah,” I admit. I look at Jamie and shake my head; he sits back down and cracks his neck. I don’t know who the fuck this prick thinks he is. “But mostly we’re very careful with who we choose to associate with. Who we trust.” I tilt my head and jerk my chin at him. “Who we do favors for.”

The threat is clear in my voice, and he looks back at Mike. “What about the groupies? Have you gotten choosier with those as the years go on?”

“Women are like wine, Reed. They only get better with age.” Mike laughs it off, but I can tell he’s just as annoyed.

DJ Dickface raises his eyebrows at me. “What about you, Liam?”

Hell no. Hell fucking no. “What about
me
?”

“You’re notorious for not being available.”

“Right.”

“That still the case?”

“Now more than ever.”

“Still with the same woman.”

“She’s been my best friend my entire life and I never have and never will want anyone else.”

“Hmm …”

My hands start to shake and I’m doing everything in my power not to lean across the table and punch this dickwad in the mouth. But that’s what he wants. So I stare at him. He obviously has it out for me and I have no clue why. Forget that he has a job to do, you don’t talk about another man’s woman or his relationship as he’s implying.

“So, yeah. We’re glad to be home and we hope to see everyone at the concert tonight.” Mike starts to stand, Jamie and Gabe following. They’re clearly done with this asswipe.

Reed ignores them and continues glaring back at me. “I bet Meara tastes better with age.”

The chair slams into the wall and my fist collides with his jaw before my headphones rip off my head. Jamie pulls me back and a couple of people run into the already cramped studio. Music starts to play as another DJ switches from studio mics to the radio.

“What in the ever loving hell do you think you’re doing, Reed?” Grant, the station’s director, yells in his face.

“Fucking let me go, Jamie!” I yell.

“Dude, he’s not worth it.” He grips me harder and I use all the force I have and break free of his hold.

“Nobody fucking talks about her like that.” Adrenaline and fury pound through my veins and I reach out and just as I’m inches from Reed, all three of my bandmates grab me.

“Liam. Breathe.” Jamie stands directly in front of me and slaps the side of my face. “Focus, dude. He’s a prick.”

“Did you hear what he said?” I test Mike and Gabe’s strength, but they plant their feet so I can’t move. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“No, you’re not. Then you’d be in jail and Meara would really be alone.” His voice lowers at the end and his eyes plead with me.

He’s right. Stupid fucker. “I’m outta here.” Mike and Gabe let me go and I elbow my way through the crowd of fans who were waiting in the lobby. The station broadcasts throughout the entire building, so everyone heard everything and have no problem getting out of my way.

Once I get to the bus, I throw my hat and pace up and down the small aisle. I punch the wall a few times, and when the force of it has the cupboard door flying open, I take it as a sign. I grab the bottle, slamming half of it before putting it back and shutting the door.

What the fuck was up with that guy? I think about what he said again, and go to storm back off the bus, but the door swings open and the guys come on followed by Grant.

“Liam, I am so sorry. I had no idea he was going to do that. You can be rest assured we will deal with him. What can I do to make it up to you? You know that’s not how I run things around here.”

“What can you do? You wanna know what you can do?” I advance on him and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

Mike steps in front of me and shakes his head. “We’ll be in touch, Grant. Probably best if you go, though.”

“I apologize, Liam. Please let me know if there is anything the station or I can do. I’ll be in contact with your manager.”

He turns and exits the bus as our driver hops on and asks if we’re ready to go.

“Yeah, get us the fuck out of here.”

“Dude.” Jamie shakes his head.

“What the fuck was that?” I yell.

“I have no clue. After you left, he just stood there with a smirk on his face. Idiot. Probably has a hard-on for you or some shit.”

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Fuck!”

“Lee, it’ll be all right,” Mike assures me.

I reach into the cabinet again and pour a red plastic cup over half full with vodka then add a splash of orange juice. I lift the cup in acknowledgment to the guys and go back to my bed.

Thank Christ our bunks are tall enough that I can sit up. I slam the entire cup and pull out my phone to call Meara but it goes to voicemail, so I leave a message. “Hey, I just got done with that interview, and the fucking DJ had it out for me for some reason, and he mentioned your name. I just want you to be careful and … shit. I’m sorry. Just be careful, all right. I’ll see you tonight.”

I shoot a text over to Pierce, just to let him know so he can alert the security at the pub. It’s not as if our fans don’t know about Meara. She’s been in a couple of videos and I have tons of pictures of us on my social media pages. When we’re back home, we hang out at Kelly’s. But the way he so blatantly brought her up like that worries me. It’s not as if we’re the most famous band in the world, but we have a big following and ... If she ever got hurt because of me, I would never forgive myself. It’s enough that I’m putting her through the emotional wringer; my work is not supposed to touch her in that way. It’s my job, my career, and there are some shitty things involved with it. I’ve managed to keep her shielded from that for seven years. I have one hundred and five days left then I’ll never have to worry about it again.

* * *

“Thank you, Chicago!” Mike screams one last time and drops the microphone. I chuck my sticks into the crowd and head to the back. The guys are stopped by some reporters, but I already told them that I was going back to the dressing room right away. Especially with what happened this afternoon, I have no desire to speak to any of them. Besides, Meara is here and I haven’t seen her yet. She called me when she got here and said she picked up the backstage pass. I know she’s stoked about the house, but she sounded overly excited. I shut the door behind me then go directly to the bathroom.

Thankfully, the bottle I left here before the show is still half full, so I slam some down and hang my head. Never in my life have I been high around her, and I know, I fuckin’ know I don’t need it with her here. But the line I did before the show has worn off. All fucking day I’ve been more on edge than usual and I don’t want my stress to ruin Meara’s excitement. Hoping that a quick fix will help, I stick my head outside the bathroom and make sure I’m alone, then I pull out a twisted up baggie and dump the contents onto the flat countertop.

Chapter 10

Meara

“HEY, GREAT SHOW!” I
hug Jamie as I round the corner on my way to see Liam. He played a great set tonight, and I’m so happy right now, I feel like I’m walking on air.

“Thanks. You by yourself?”

“No, I came with Brandon and Mary.”

He quirks an eyebrow in confusion.

“Char’s husband, Travis. His brother is Brandon and his girlfriend, Mary.”

“Oh yeah, duh. Where are they?”

I knew he’d realize it when I linked them to Char. Our little group is expanding, and it’s awesome.

“They’re going out or something. This isn’t really their thing.” I point to the couple making out against the wall and laugh. “Ya know, Brandon being a cop and all.”

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