Page 91 of The Fix

“Liar.”

A grunt rumbles out of my bodyguard.

My heart pounds in my chest as we reach the stoop of the main house, and I swear I feel like I’m about to puke with the nerves that only resemble those I got before I walked on stage for the first time.

Weeks.

Months.

It might as well be years since I’ve been in front of anyone from my band. My friends.

My unknowing enablers.

I nearly stumble when Lugh pushes me into the building and rests a directing, but reassuring, hand on my shoulder.

I force a breath just before we enter the visitor room, my hands set on vibrating out the anxiety flowing through me as he keeps me walking.

Straight to the tables set up for just this occasion, with only one body taking up space.

One set of shoulders.

One head of perfectly styled blonde hair.

My heart sinks.

With a desperate gaze darting around the room, I lift up on my toes to see the window in the door that leads to the outside of this place, only to come up empty.

I was expecting all of them.

“Toby …”

The air of the room thickens when my band manager stands and offers a hand in greeting.

It’s not the handshake I leave hanging that has my stomach prepping to evacuate once again.

No.

It’s the sadness in his normally brilliant blue eyes. The band tee in place of his pressed button-up. The five-o’clock shadow highlighting his jawline. The knowing way his mouth doesn’t lift in a grin at the sight of me.

Leo’s hand drops back to his side. “I’m so glad your sponsor called me, man. It’s been too fucking long.”

I nod with a clench to my jaw and a flare to my nostrils as a wave of anger settles itself into my blood like it’s in for the long haul.

Doc was right.

Because while I’m pissed the rest of the crew isn’t here, I’m even more angry at the man standing in front of me.

As if he can sense the change in me, he hangs his head.

“I’m sorry, Toby. I’m so fucking sorry. I had no idea.” His blonde head shakes, some of the pieces of hair falling loose around his forehead. “I should’ve known and I didn’t.”

I know I need to say something to the man, but instead of rushing the words, I busy myself by pulling out the chair across from him and plopping my ass in it.

“No one is being replaced. In the band,” Leo continues as he sinks into the seat across from me. “That’s not at all what I was going for when the guys brought it up all those months ago.”

“Then what were you going for?” The sound of my voice seems to shock him, and to be honest, it comes out pretty thick, even to my own ears.

“I … I wanted everyone to have a touring backup. It was about burnout and the media. After all the shit we’ve all been through, I wanted to make sure that each of you could get a break when you needed it.”

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