Page 120 of Living on the Edge

The one good thing that came from the wholeRock Harderdisaster is that my band had my back—and we found our groove again. I’m not talking about music either. That was never in jeopardy, but the floundering personal relationships were taking a toll, but once that story broke it was like everyone realized we were stronger together. As a unit. A team.Brothers.

We spent a lot of time strategizing. I hired a crisis control management team who did a fantastic job spinning the narrative. I personally hired a private detective to get some dirt on Callum and we used that to our advantage, getting the media talking about his bad behavior over the years, and somehow, that seemed to level the playing field.

All of a sudden, Callum was a huge fan of the band and Karnal Death was constantly making comments to the press about how great we are, what good friends we are, shit like that. Basically, doing their own damage control.

It pisses me off, but Sasha said to just let it go. It’s better to keep things positive instead of feeding anymore negativity.

Unfortunately, I don’t know how long we’re going to be able to keep that up.

Callum is here at the party tonight and he’s drunk.

Taryn is with him, and he’s been getting handsy with her—not in a good way.

And Mick isn’t happy.

I don’t know what happened between him and Taryn—he won’t tell us, says it’s none of our business—but he doesn’t act like a guy who doesn’t, or didn’t, have feelings for her.

“I know we’re trying to stay away from anything remotely related to drama, but if he puts his hands on her like that again, I’m going to get involved.” Mick is glaring in the direction of where Callum and Taryn are standing with a group of people I don’t recognize.

“Easy, bro.” I put a hand on his arm. “She’s a grown woman who made a conscious decision to be with him. It’s not your job to play hero.”

He just grunts.

I sigh because I’m torn.

I agree with him—you don’t put your hands on a woman. Ever. If you’re done with her, walk away. Unless she attacks you, and you’re just trying to defend yourself, there is never a reason to be physical with a woman.

On the other hand, I want nothing to do with Callum.

I’m positive he played a role in the article that came out, feeding that whole thing about how Crimson Edge was breaking up. We’ve since disproved all of that nonsense, and the crisis control team has worked hard to distance me from my family. Ididlegally change my name a long time ago. Ido nothave any connection to Holland-Burke Pharmaceuticals and never have. I am not currently and have not taken money from my family since graduating from college.

The trust fund I live on was given to me by my maternal grandmother, which came from generational wealth that goes back a hundred years and has nothing to do with the pharmaceutical industry or the Hollingsworth fortune.

And my mother, as promised, already had a tearful and seemingly heartfelt statement prepared, talking about how an accident left August with a low sperm count, so the family decided to use his brother, Alex, as a sperm donor. Nothing nefarious about the situation, but August was embarrassed about his purported inability to have kids, so it was kept under wraps. Then she got pregnant with Abe, which was a miracle.

No mention that she doesn’t even know who Annette’s father is, of course, or that Alden is also Alex’s child, but her statement garnered sympathy, eliminating the need for much discourse by the press. Certainly no mention of the fact that she was having an affair with Alex long before she got together with August, or that they got pregnant the old-fashioned way.

I cut all ties to my family, other than Abe and Alden, even Alex for now. I’m not mad at him but the fact that he’s okay with all of the lies and manipulation makes my skin crawl. He’s reached out a handful of times but I told him I needed time. I don’t know how much will be enough, but I’m doing my best to move on.

Which is why I’ve been in therapy, trying to work through the dynamics of my fucked-up childhood and the lingering trauma.

“Who’s the bald guy with Callum?” Jonny asks me, frowning. “He looks familiar but I can’t place him.”

I gaze in that direction and shrug. “No idea.”

Callum takes that moment to shove Taryn to her knees, grabbing her by the back of the head and pushing it back and forth against his groin, mimicking a blow job.

“I’m done,” Mick grunts, stalking in that direction before we can stop him.

“Shit.” Jonny runs after him and I’m a second behind, stopping Mick a moment before he reaches Callum.

The group around Callum and Taryn are laughing, making lewd remarks, and egging him on, while she’s still on her knees, looking like she’s trying not to cry.

“It’s not worth it,” Jonny hisses in Mick’s ear.

“It is!” he protests, trying to elbow his way free, but I grab his arm.

“Stop. If you want her, then find a way to get her, but as long as she’s willingly with him, it’s none of your business.”

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