Page 55 of Creed

“Don’t you get fuckin’ pissy with me?—”

“Everyone shut the fuck up!” Steve yells and I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his bravado. Riley groans quietly next to me as Bear audibly sighs as he pinches the skin between his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, and Tony looks like he’s ready to murder someone just for being told what to do. Everyone is fucking tired and crabby as shit from the lack of sleep after back to back concerts and traveling back home for nearly twenty-four hours straight. We all needed this time off to recoup and of course Steve couldn’t stop chasing the dollar signs like a dog chasing a damn bone long enough to let us just breathe.

He clears his throat and smooths a stubby-fingered hand over his thinning hair. “It’s a three month tour, sixty-three concerts luckily all within the U.S. No international travel. Also, because you’re the first band they sought to call, and because it was a request brought upon us emergently last minute, they’re willing to pay you an additional fifteen percent on top of the earnings from ticket sales.”

Wow. That’s quite a bit, considering how much Jake’s band has been raking in at these concerts. But we don’t need the money. At least Bear, Riley and I don’t. Tony likes to piss his money away on booze and clubs like the one we wound up at last night. The only thing we refuse to go near are drugs of any kind. Too many of us have some kind of trauma related to substance abuse and we try our fucking hardest to stay out of a negative spotlight. I don’t think it stops T from sneaking them and he’s not as secretive as he thinks he is. Ritz was clearly on something last night and we all know it.

We may be rockstars in a metalcore band, but we like to think we’re good guys. Socially, at least. Though I doubt lusting after my best friend’s little sister who’s nine years younger than me would count as making me a model citizen. Majority of my thoughts that revolve around her are downright sinful but I can’t bring myself to worry about that right now.

Right now, we’ve got bigger issues. As Ayla talks to Steve about numbers and logistics as well as publicity, I zone out. My thoughts drifting back to Collins.

Fucking Christ.

I just fucking found her by accident—working as an exotic dancer and aerial artist at a club, of all things, run by a real piece of shit—and I’ll be damned if I let her out of my sight again. Collins was destined to do amazing things in her life, and it feels like a fucking knife to the heart to know that this is what she wound up doing just to survive. Not live. Survive. Not as a passion job, but out of desperation and necessity from being on her own, no doubt.

I know we need to tell Asher because he’s been going out of his mind with worry when he’s not sleeping or working. Last I spoke to him, he’d told me that some shit went down at the club with the owner and his two brothers so he’s been working some crazy hours as part of their security team rather than a bartender after they lost several employees.

Lost; as in dead.

Some crazy underground gang-related shit.

There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I will allow Collins to stay there with him right now. Not only does he live in a one bedroom apartment, but it’s also not safe for her to be there right now. Not when he tells me that there’s some unknown threat still out there. I know I’ll somehow have to make sure he sees his little sister though. However, judging from the last letter she sent me, she hasn’t spoken to him in years. The years Ash was either in rehab or battling the embarrassment of having to seek such help.

Then there’s this concert opportunity. As much as I don’t want to pick up and start touring all over again without a break or even new songs to debut, the money is tempting, but not for me.

I could take my portion of the earnings and set them aside for Collins. Make sure she’s secure financially for the foreseeable future.

Of course, I think all of this as if I have any intention of letting her go.

Fat fucking chance.

“What do you think, Creed?” I’m so lost in thought that Ayla’s voice barely sounds like a muffled murmur.

I don’t snap out of it until I feel the back of Riley’s fist smack against the side of my thigh, shoving it lightly to get my attention. I jerk at his touch and he yanks his hand back as if I’d slapped him. I give him a quick sideways glance and see him wide eyed as if to tell me answer the girl, asswipe. I cock a brow at him and open my mouth to say something sarcastic, but a flash of movement on the computer screen snags my attention again.

“Helloooo? Earth to Creed St. James!” Ayla yells at me while waving her pale hand in front of the camera, trying to reel me back to reality.

“I’m sorry, what did you ask?” I blurt, giving away the fact that I was not, indeed, paying attention.

“I asked if this concert is something you want to take on, considering you’ve just wrapped up your European tour…” she glances down at her phone before looking back at me. “Thirty-three hours ago.”

“When does this stand-in tour start?” I ask.

“This Friday.”

Shit.

“Give me a second? You guys discuss this amongst yourselves for a second and I’ll be back.”

I don’t give them time to respond before I mute my microphone and cover my camera with a sticky note. I turn to Riley, sighing. “What do you think, man?”

Riley’s eyes volley back and forth as he stares at the ground, a tell-tale sign that he’s thinking deeply, as if he’s scanning both sides of a pros and cons list in his head.

He seems to finally come to a conclusion when lifts his head and blows out a breath. “I know we just got back, and I was really looking forward to just doing nothing for a minute before diving back into the music world.”

My heart sinks for a minute because I see the truth written all over his face. He wants the break, needs it. Hell, we all do. “Yeah, okay?—”

“But, Jake is a really good guy, and what happened to him wasn’t his fault. I think it’s pretty big of him to not leave his fans disappointed with no show at all, wanting to still give them some entertainment in his absence, even if he gets nothing from it.”

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