Page 133 of Wicked Rockstar

Peter and Killian stubbornly said nothing. This was not helping our case at all.

“Would you like to explain, Trissa?”

What I wouldlikewould be to crawl under his desk and hide.

Killian laid a hand on my shoulder and then Peter did the same on the other.

Fuck it all.

Jareth was already pissed. What did they think that was going to accomplish?

Idiots. I didn’t belong to either one of them.

I leaned forward to shake them both off. Killian needing to be extra, or was perhaps staking his claim, tightened his grip before sliding his hand possessively down my arm.

Jareth watched our movements, his gaze calculating.

“Killian. Perhaps you should finish recording the rest of your album at our West Coast facility.”

Killian stiffened.

Shit.

“Trissa,” Jareth’s voice softened as he addressed me. “I understand your position is … complicated.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m Peter’s assistant. That’s my job.” The words came out automatically, professionally. But as soon as they left my mouth, I felt Killian’s energy shift. I hadn’t meantit the way it sounded—like a declaration of allegiance—but I couldn’t take it back now.

“Indeed,” Jareth agreed. “And given Peter’s recent behavior, he needs someone I trust to keep him on track.” His eyes narrowed at Peter. “One more incident—one more tabloid headline, one more missed appearance, one more fistfight—and you’ll find yourself without a label. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Peter replied through clenched teeth.

“I don’t give two shits about your personal lives until it interferes with our day-to-day operation. What neither of you seem to understand is that I have enough money and clauses in your contracts to dissolve them without any repercussions.” He let that threat hang in the air. “Figure it out.”

Well, fuck.I gave a curt nod, imagining Peter must have, too. I refused to look at the asshole.

The door opened again and Wendy slipped inside. Her eyes darted to Peter and her lips thinned.

“Help keep him in line.” Jareth shot an exasperated glare at Wendy and me.

Wendy gave a stiff jerk of her head at the order.

“Of course,” she replied.

“And Trissa—keep the two of them apart or you’ll all learn I don’t play around when it comes to business.”

I had to hand it to Wendy. She barely moved except for the straightening of her back. I had to clutch my trembling hands together to hide them from his view.

Jareth nodded once. “Good. Mr. Young, Ms. Byrd will accompany you and Ms. Darling on your promotional tour for the upcoming charity event.”

My heart sank. I’d been hoping to give more of the reins to Wendy in controlling Peter and only be on the mini-tour when I was needed, fully expecting to work from home the rest of the time.

I stole a glance at Killian. His teeth were clenched so hard I was afraid he was about to chip a tooth. I wanted to speak up, to object, but what could I say? My career, Peter’s career, Killian’s—they all hung in the balance. One wrong word could topple everything we’d all worked so long for.

“If there’s nothing else,” Jareth said with finality, “you’re dismissed.”

I rose, the movement mechanical. Peter left immediately, but I lingered, needing a private word with Jareth.

“I understand your decision, but is there anyway—” I said quietly when Killian stepped outside, after giving me a questioning look.

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