Page 16 of Pretty Black

“I wouldn’t say that. We need to proceed with caution and expect at least a seventy-two-hour hold, but most of all, we need to act in good faith with the judge and the facility so as to not appear resistant to getting Mr. Black help if he needs it. I hate to say this could affect the integrity of our other case, but it very well could, and we need to remain above reproach while challenging a well-respected manager as abusive as he might be. Rock stars do not come with the best imagery, and there is an inherent bias towards the lifestyle and decision making.”

Mr. St. Clair made sense, but none of it made me feel any better.

“He caused all of this. He made it all worse, and now I have to suffer because of it.”

“And we will prove and establish those patterns of Mr. White’s, but if you fight a court order, it will hinder us in the future.”

We got off the phone, and I collapsed onto my hands and knees.

“I can’t do this. I can’t go back.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad this time,” Caspian sat next to me and pulled me into his arms.

“Easy for you to say. You didn’t live through it last time.”

FIVE

TWO YEARS AGO

Iris Black

October

Iknew before I saw them. I could tell by the way Caspian looked at me. Sorrow and betrayal came off him in waves. He couldn’t keep it together, and I hadn’t been able to put a finger on what was wrong with him. He’d been off since my night in the hospital, and now I knew why.

“What is this?” I asked, not sure why I needed it confirmed.

“This wasn’t an easy decision to come to, Iris.” Alexander’s tone matched his words, but the little smile edging at the corner of his mouth told me how much pleasure he took in it.

“What decision?” I said, chest heaving.

“I’ve discussed how you’re doing with your medical team, and we’ve concluded you’re spiraling and something needs to be done about it,” Alexander went on.

“Who gave you permission to talk to my doctors?”

“The medical releases you’ve signed every year with the agency. What do you think allows me to handle your medication and appointments and everything else.” Alexander had an excuse for everything.

“What are you doing about it?” I couldn’t imagine what conclusion he’d come to. We were only one leg into a massive fucking world tour.

“Your psychiatrist has decided to put you on a psych hold.”

“We have shows?!” I couldn’t believe this was Alexander’s solution. The guy who had me back on tour two weeks after my brother was put in the ground was going to cancel shows for a fucking psych hold?

“This isn’t what we want to do. We know how hard it will be, but we are so worried about you. Caspian has been a wreck, andfrankly, I don’t think you’ve given me any other choice.”

“And if I refuse?”

Two massive guys stepped out of a room.

“You’ve hired fucking nurse kidnappers?”

“We don’t want to do this against your will, but we also don’t want the police involved for your medical privacy.”

“Privacy? What the fuck are you going to say when you cancel shows? What are you going to tell the other guys? How will you keep it from leaking or becoming a blind item?”

“This place is specially designed for high-profile clients.”

“And what are you going to fucking tell the fans when you cancel shows?” I asked, looking between the guys and the door, wanting to run the fuck away, feeling as helpless as I did at five fucking years old trapped in a goddamn closet.

---