Page 113 of Crimson Desires

It was Aster. She looked tired and sad, but no less beautiful than usual. She was sitting in a small room. Her bedroom if I had to guess. She held her phone in her hand and read off it like a preacher citing the bible during his sermon—with the kind of sureness and clarity that only came with the unshakable mindset that her belief was the right one.

Next to me, Ava turned up the volume on her tablet and pressed play.

“Hi. I’m sorry if this is a little awkward. I’m not used to filming myself. My name is Aster Jennings. I’m twenty-four years old, and up until four weeks ago, I was a waitress and former college dropout struggling to make ends meet. You might all know me as Wicked Crimson’s merch girl—or as the girl who was seen on a date with Jack Maverick at the North Carolina Museum of Art.

“I worked for Wicked Crimson throughout the majority of their East Coast tour. This experience was amazing in a lot of ways. I traveled to so many new places, met so many amazing individuals, and learned so many valuable lessons. I’m eternally grateful to the touring production crew that accepted me as part of their family; Wicked Crimson’s tour manager, Ava Lang; Kane, Damien, Axel, and Zephyr, for giving me the opportunity to meet you; and Jack Maverick—for not tipping me when we first met.

“That brings me to this—the reason I’m making this video in the first place. A few days ago, a controversy stirred between Jack Maverick and the lead guitarist of Killing Kiss, Arnold. Arnold claimed that Jack assaulted him unprovoked. This isn’t true.

“Here is what actually happened. Arnold invited me onto the Killing Kiss tour bus, where he proceeded to insult Wicked Crimson before attempting to... to have sex with me. I clearly expressed multiple times that I did not consent to his advances, but he didn’t care. If Jack had not shown up when he did—I don’t know what would have happened. Jack may have gone overboard in trying to defend me, but that is what he was doing. Defending me. I hope this clears up any discourse currently going around.

“Finally, I want to express my thanks to Jack Maverick. Thanks to him, I got to join Wicked Crimson’s production crew and had the adventure of a lifetime. And without his generous donation, I would not have been able to pay for my father’s emergency surgery. Jack, you didn’t just save my life. You saved my father’s. I’m sorry that things didn’t work out between us, but I hope that this video helps you understand how truly grateful I am to have had you in my life. Thank you.”

The video cut out.

Ava turned to me. “She posted this last night while we were on the road.” Her brow was drawn into a deep furrow. “Jack, did your father go through with the donation without telling me? That’s really unlike him.”

“No,” I said. “He called me to discuss it twice, but I was against the idea both times.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Ava said. “Who paid for her dad’s surgery, then? Do you think she’s lying?”

I shook my head, more confused than ever. “About the surgery being paid for? No. Aster’s a terrible liar. She honestly believes that I’m the one who paid for her father’s surgery.”

“Well, as long as nobody disputes her claim, you’re golden,” Ava said, her voice edging on sarcastic. “Rick and Manny got in touch with me this morning. They’re planning to cut Arnold out of Killing Kiss. You’ve been forgiven by most media outlets—and Arnold is being slammed for taking advantage of Aster. On top of that, since everyone thinks that you paid for Aster’s father’s surgery, your image has never been better.”

“That should all be great news,” I said, nodding soberly.

“Yep. Two media shitstorms settled in a three-minute video.” Ava turned off her tablet and set it face down on her lap. “We’re living every PR team’s wet dream.”

“Yeah.” A weak laugh left me. “Shit, Ava. I think I get it now. Aster probably thinks that I paid for her father’s surgery to fix my reputation. She thinks I used her.”

Ava nodded—apparently having come to the same conclusion. Her dark eyes flickered up to me.

“Would it be stupid for me to admit the truth?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Ava admitted. “At the very least, it would be looking the gift horse in the mouth.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. Outside the green room, I could hear the production crew running around, trying to get everything ready in time. Our show was in less than three hours. “Ava, what do I do?”

“Just worry about playing an amazing last show, Jack. I’ll handle everything else.”

“You mean...?”

Ava grinned. “I’m going to find a way to get you from Cleveland to Boston before the sun rises tomorrow.”

Chapter Thirty

Aster

Dad and Melinda came home at two in the afternoon. I watched Melinda’s gray SUV pull into the driveway, feeling my heart pound with excitement at the thought of seeing Dad again after four weeks apart.

Below me, taco meat simmered in a large cast-iron pot. Usually, I would’ve just ordered takeout or pizza for lunch. But I’d been restless all afternoon, and with the house spotless, there was little else to do other than cook.

According to Melinda, Dad’s surgery had gone well. The procedure itself was noninvasive—so Dad thankfully wouldn’t have any difficulty walking or doing simple tasks for himself. Still, he’d need to be taken care of and closely monitored over the next two weeks before he was fully recovered.

I wasn’t sure how I’d monitor him while working at Greg’s, but I knew that I’d figure it out somehow. What other choice did I have?

The side door opened, and Dad hobbled in. He whistled lowly as he kicked off his shoes. “Damn, kiddo! I didn’t realize you’d be home already. What are you cooking in there?”

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