“Yeah, it’ll give them something to pass their time with. Wondering what the hell I meant.”

More blinking.

“Perfection is overrated, Maddie.” At the sound of two new texts, I ask, “What did they come back with?”

She reads the texts, still giving off vibes of I don’t understand you right now. Then, laughing, she says, “Oh, actually, this is fun. Maybe you’re right. The text you sent ended up saying, ‘I’m driving to Styiiiioop’ and somehow you also managed to get a middle finger emoji in at the end of it. Gage texted back ‘Is this a new game we’re playing?’ and Bradford replied ‘This is Kristen and I like this game already. Tell us more, Ethan.’ Oh, and Callan’s just texted ‘Olivia here and I’m thinking it’s time this group chat had an upgrade. Kristen and I need to be added because you boys suck at games where you have to guess things. I’ll add us in so we can help figure out where Styiiiioop is.’”

“Jesus,” I say. “That group chat is never going to shut up now.”

“Well, perhaps if you hadn’t sent your text so hastily you wouldn’t be in this predicament now.”

“I’m detecting some passive aggressiveness there, Miller.”

“And you would be right, Black.”

I grin at her right as her phone starts ringing.

“Shit,” she says checking it. “I have to take this call. It’s my manager.”

9

Madeline

“Darren,” I answer the call, my voice tight. I don’t think there’s a single thing I could do to relax it or me right now.

“What the fuck kind of stunt was that yesterday?” He sounds murderous and I didn’t expect anything less.

I inhale a breath, taking a moment to reply so that I can search for a little calm. “It wasn’t a stunt, Darren. I didn’t want to get married.”

“That’s bullshit. You’ve wanted your claws in Tucker from the first day you met him. Marrying him was always your goal.”

“And this just shows how little you truly know me. I wanted Tucker because I thought I was in love with him. Marrying him hadn’t ever crossed my mind until he started talking about it and then rushing me to the alter.”

“Don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. You ran around doing everything for the brand you were told to. Fuck, if we’d told you to get on your knees up on a stage you would have. You wanted everything that being with Tucker could give you and you went out of your way to get it.”

Get loud, Maddie.

Get fucking loud.

The thing about never experiencing anger? When you do feel it, finally feel it, it feels like a magnitude 8 volcanic eruption. My skin is alive in a way it has never been. There’s violence trapped inside it. Right under it. Explosive violence.

“Two things, Darren.” I try to speak slowly, try to slow my eruption, but I can already feel that this isn’t an explosion I can control. It’s been building for too long. “Don’t ever fucking call me sweetheart again.” I suck in a breath, my body shaking. I want to harm this man like I’ve never wanted to harm another person. “And don’t ever presume to know why I do anything. Yes, I did do everything for the brand that I was told to, but for very fucking different reasons than you think. If I really was the person you’ve just described, I would have stayed yesterday and signed my life away to Tucker and you.”

“I’ll call you whatever I want, Maddie. I own you.” Venom spills all over his words. “Now, you need to get the fuck home so we can begin putting this shitshow back together. The tour depends on it.”

Go home?

Put everything back together?

Go on tour?

“I’m unsure of what’s not clear to you. I’m not marrying Tucker. There is nothing to put back together.” And I’m certainly not going on tour with him.

“You are marrying Tucker. I don’t care if it’s before the tour or after, but it is happening.”

“Go fuck yourself, Darren. The time when you get to order me around has passed. And if you think that tour’s happening, you’re deluding yourself.” I think of one last thing. “And it was really nice to hear from Tucker himself, but I guess he’s been too busy fucking Tee. Come to think of it, she might be who you’re confusing me with. She’s wanted her claws in Tucker since the day she met him.” I stab at the phone to end the call, throw it into the center console of the car, and look out the window as I release a long breath. God, I hate that man. With a capital fucking ‘h’.

Ethan doesn’t say anything. He allows me the space I need to come down from that confrontation.