Page 21 of Song Bird Hearts

I shrug. “Not allowed to.”

“What? Why?” he asks, frowning.

“The label doesn’t think it would resonate with people. They said it’s too raw and unprofessional.”

“That’s a damn crawfish tale if I ever heard one! It’s literal poetry,” he growls, and it makes me smile despite the sad topic. “What about that Jiminy Cricket song? I liked that one, too.”

I shake my head. “The songs I play on stage are the only ones I’m allowed to sing. I can’t even write my own music anymore. They won’t let me. They just refuse every song I write.”

Gilden frowns. “Now that’s a whole mess’acoillonnerieright there.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. It’s not great.”

“So that explains the change in your sound. Not that your new stuff isn’t good. It’s catchy. It’s just not. . . it lacks. . .”

“Soul,” I finish for him. “Yeah, I know.” I set the guitar down and sit back. “Doesn’t matter anyways. I just fucked all that up with this stunt. I should have cut the feed when I realized something was off. I’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t say that,mon rossignol. Ain’t nothin’ finished ‘til you say it is,” he encourages. “Besides your fans are goin’ wild right now. Viral videos trying to figure out if you’re okay, other ones diving deep into the conspiracies surrounding the 27 Foundation.Cher, you set them loose. They’re rabid, regular ole crime stoppers.”

My eyes widen. “What? Show me.”

So, he does. Video after video about me, things exploding and going viral, snippets of the livestream interlaced with theories and information. They’re doing the work I can’t do for me. They’re pulling proof themselves, doing their own investigations with or without the authorities. Surprised, I flip through more and more, and there’s no shortage of them. It’s insane how many there are. #ProtectValerie is literally trending.

“See,mon rossignol. They’re rallying behind you.” Gilden shrugs. “I may be optimistic, but it doesn’t seem like you’re losing anything. At least, not yet.”

Chapter12

Valerie

Gilden showing me the videos really changes the direction of my mood. I’d been feeling down on myself, wallowing in self-pity, but to know that so many are behind me, that my fans aren’t going to let me down, makes everything seem just a little brighter despite the fact that I’m hiding in a cabin in the mountains with two strange men. It makes some things achingly clear.

I’m Valerie Decatur. I don’t wallow in self-pity. I don’t let someone else control my life. I am a strong, independent woman. I am confident. I am powerful. And the Foundation clearly views me as a threat.

I can work with that.

But for now, I’m trapped in this cabin with no phone and two men. And we have to do something to pass the time.

“You guys wanna play Scrabble?” I ask, pulling the boardgame from the shelf. There are only a few games, and Scrabble has to be better than Backgammon or a deck of cards.

“Yes,” Gilden declares the same moment Knox says, “No.”

“Oh, come on,” I say to Knox, holding up the game. “This is literally the easiest game in the world. You just spell words.”

Knox glances up at me. “First, you puke in my shoes. Then you try and force me to play boardgames. Will the torture never end?”

I deflate, my smile falling at his words. Gilden shoots a furious look at his partner when I set the board game down on the table. I’m not under the impression that we’re all friends. Gilden’s flintiness makes it easy to forget I’m a paycheck and not their bestie. Still Knox’s words are like ice water. There I went thinkin’ this is something it’s not. I’m hiding in the fucking mountains because someone is trying to kill me. Get a grip, Valerie.

“You’re right,” I mumble. “Sorry. I won’t bother you again.”

I take a seat at the table and push the game away, focusing instead on the coffee mug I still need to wash. Maybe I’ve had enough caffeine.

“Ignore him,mon rossignol. Knox’d bark at a sunrise if it dared shine too bright. Ain’t your fault he doesn’t know how to act,” Gilden encourages. “I’ll play Scrabble with you. It can be a two-player game.”

“Thanks,” I murmur, “but it’s okay. It’s just easy to forget you’re here on business, not because we’re friends.”

“We’re friends,” Gilden says adamantly. “No matter what Knox says.”

I don’t believe him, but that’s okay. His job is to keep me safe, not entertain me. I’m not a child. I can figure something else out.

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