Page 139 of Of Heartbreak and Harmony
“What is it?” I ask, my voice cracking. When he doesn’t acknowledge me, I speak again, urgency rising in my tone. “What is it, Torren? Tell me.”
He looks at me, ire changing to remorse, and then he hands me the phone.
I hold my breath as I read the article, paragraph after paragraph until my chest burns. When a hot tear trickles down my cheek and my vision starts to fizzle at the corners, my body takes over, and I suck in a lungful of air with a strangled gasp. The first words that I can manage surprise even me.
“Fucking Quinton.” I clamp my eyes shut and swallow back a scream. “Mother fucking Quinton!”
Someone took pictures of Savannah and Torren entering and then leaving a bathroom after the show two nights ago. Her eyeliner is smeared, but they’re both smiling slightly.
This isn’t the worst part, though. Levi’s voice echoes in my head, lessening the blow of the photos and outlandish claims printed in the article.
I trust Savannah. I trust Torren.
It stings, but I push through it. I’ll deal with it later. The worst part is the second half of the article. The one that has an“exclusive tell-all”interview with Quinton. The visit from Torren at the store. The offer of five grand just to meet with him and “hear him out.” My absolute disinterest in him followed by me quitting my job the next day. Quinton’s even provided a sketchy video that he obviously took on his phone.
“It sounded more like a business proposition than a date,” Quinton Teller toldThe Star. “Like five grand just for a meeting? No way Callie would date Torren King. She hates The Hometown Heartless. She calls their music uninspired, watered-down, poor excuse for rock and roll. She, like, really hates them, but she’s pretty hard up for cash.”
“Jesus.”
I clamp my eyes shut and drop my head to the seat, pinching the bridge of my nose. I don’t finish the sentence that outs my relationship with Torren as a sham. I can’t bring myself to continue, certain there are accusations of another Sav Loveless and Torren King affair, among other heinous things.
“What are we going to do?”
Torren’s hand lands on my thigh and squeezes. “Ham says we keep doing what we’re doing. We act like it’s not true. If it continues after the LA shows, he’ll release a statement.”
“But what about the stalker?”
Torren doesn’t respond, so I open my eyes and turn my head to look at him. He’s frowning, and then he shrugs.
“We just wait and see.”
I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. I feel so fucking guilty, despite knowing it’s not my fault. I’m not even surprised. I should have seen it coming. Quin’s always bent over backward for any sort of attention. He was an idiot in high school, and he’s an idiot now.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into the air.
Torren squeezes my thigh again. “This isn’t on you, Cal. I shouldn’thave talked to you in front of him. And when I did, I should have made him sign an NDA. This is on me.”
This is on me.
The photos of Torren and Sav leaving the bathroom creep back into the forefront of my mind. I try to push them back, try to repeat Levi’s statement over and over, but my insecurities swirl with my memories from ArtFusion. Torren with Sav against the bus. His eyes on me as he came inside her.
I force myself to keep my eyes on his face even though all I want to do is close them and swallow myself in darkness. I watch him, hold eye contact, and ask what I want to know.
“What were you and Sav doing in that bathroom?”
“It’s not at all what they said it was. I swear, Callie. I said something shitty to her before the show, and I just needed to apologize. There’s nothing between us like that at all. Nothing romantic. Nothing sexual. No feelings like that at all. I swear it.”
He swears it.
I trust Torren.
Nothing between them.
Nothing.
“Okay,” I say with a nod.
“Okay?”
