Page 14 of Of Heartbreak and Harmony
Like it would have before my stare down with Torren King.
5
TORREN
PRESENT DAY
I hitthe button on Sav’s gate, making sure to stare right into the camera, and wait for her security to buzz me in.
It used to be security would let any of us in based on our car license plates, but that’s changed recently. I used to practically live here, and now I’m treated like a fan, and I have to pretend it doesn’t sting.
I pull up the long cobblestone drive and park behind Mabel’s car. From the looks of it, everyone else is already here. Even Jonah, which is proof he’s still on the wagon. Jo’s only on time when he’s sober.
I climb out and nod a hello to the security she has stationed at the door, then let myself inside.
“Good. You’re here. Let’s begin,” Hammond clips immediately.
Nohello. Nohow was traffic. Nowhy are you late.
Ham’s all business, all the time. I suppose that’s a good quality to have in a manager, even if it annoys the shit out of me.
“Hello to you, too, Hammond. I’m great, thanks for asking. How are you? How’s your niece?”
He sighs. “I’m well, thanks. My niece is fine. Stop asking about her. You’re not her type.”
He goes back to ignoring me, so I throw myself onto the couch next to Jo. He hands me a bottle of electrolyte water from the coffee table without saying a word, and I fist-bump him in thanks. One thing aboutdoing meetings at Sav’s instead of the label boardroom is that she’s got way better snacks. After a survey of the spread on the table, I grab a yogurt parfait and a spoon.
Hammond clears his throat. “Are you settled in now, Mr. King?”
I put a spoonful of parfait in my mouth and lick it clean before responding.
“Quite ready, Ham. Thanks for asking.”
He starts to ramble, and I tune him out. It’s all shit we’ve already been over. Album release, current charting single stats, what we’ll submit to the Grammys when the time comes. We’re still set to start the second leg of our US tour in a few days after our two-month break. We’ll spend three months touring in America before heading to Canada, and then to the UK after three more weeks of downtime.
That was one of Hammond’s stipulations for us staying with our label last year: more breaks interspersed throughout our tours and no legs longer than four months at a time. It was one of the things he wasn’t willing to budge on—no breaks, no downtime, and we walk. For as much shit as I’ve given Hammond over the years, he’s really come through for us, and I’m grateful. I won’t tell him that because he’ll lord it over me, but I am.
“Have you been writing?” Ham asks, and we all nod. We’ve probably got two albums worth of material right now. “Good. Great.”
Hammond goes silent and picks up a folder from the side table that I didn’t notice before. His expression is somber, and my spine straightens. I glance at Jonah, then Mabel, and then for the first time since I’ve arrived, Sav.
Everyone looks uncomfortable, and suddenly, I wish I weren’t late for the meeting.
“Now, you’ve all noticed we’ve had to amp up Savannah’s security recently. More so since the end of the first leg of the tour.”
I furrow my brow and look at Sav again. This time for longer than I usually allow. This time, I let myself see her.
She has circles under her eyes that I haven’t noticed before. Creases between her brows that almost look permanent. Her lips are chapped and dry. Even the way she’s sitting is out of character. Usually, Sav sprawls and takes up space. Right now? I’ve never seen her look sosmall. Even her dog, Ziggy, is lying protectively at her feet as if feeling her tension. Usually, that dog is an absolute menace.
Then I glance around the rest of the house, and my jaw tightens. There’s no noise. No sign of her boyfriend or his daughter. No sign of her mother.
“What’s going on?” I ask finally, and Hammond takes a deep breath.
“The stalker is back.”
“The same stalker? I thought he was arrested.”
Hammond shrugs. “Honestly, we don’t know for sure if it’s the same guy, but it would make sense. He made parole a few months ago, and since then, things have steadily gotten worse.”
