Page 46 of Wicked Truths

“I’ve missed you, Oaks.” Sulli pulls the top off the nachos.

“Me too.” I swallow thickly as we settle in to eat.

* * *

Marcus and Liam return not long after we finish stuffing our faces. I immediately move to sit up, but Marcus swipes a hand to indicate I should stay where I am.

“Guess who is filling in for Mourning Glory?” Liam quirks an eyebrow, pulling off multiple lids to see what’s left.

“You?” I make eye contact with Marcus.

“Yup.” He grabs a plate at random and one of the sodas resting in the ice bin. “Tyler is fucked. He’s going to see the doctor tonight, but I’ve got to fill in for him, meaning I’ve got to grab some lunch and get my ass out there to practice with them.”

“They’re not allowed to steal you from us,” I huff, frowning because that sounded awful even to my own ears.

“Never going to happen, princess.” Marcus winks, sitting in the club chair across from us. “Jamen is already working on finding them a replacement, but it’s either I perform with them, or we do a double set.”

“We may be the bigger name on the tour, but they’ve got their own fans specifically coming to catch them. It’ll only be a few shows until Jamen can contract a fill-in.” Liam tosses himself down in the other club chair.

I nod, but honestly more time on stage is my nightmare come to life. I’m already struggling to complete our set. We may be the bigger name for the opening acts, but Trigger Finger is the star of the show.

My eyes fly to Marcus’s, and he gives me a serious look. “We can do a double set if you need me to be with you before the show.” He shoves a quesadilla into his mouth and shrugs.

My heart races because that was exactly what I needed to hear him say, but I’m not actually selfish enough to tank Mourning Glory’s intro tour.

“He really is sickeningly sweet with you,” Liam says around his cheeseburger. “If you’re taking applications for your before-the-show fuck, then I absolutely volunteer my body as tribute.” He winks.

I snort.

Sullivan scoffs.

Marcus growls.

And Hawk bounces into the room from wherever he’s been. Damn, my system likes having the four of them in one place a little too much for it to be healthy. Sullivan pats my hip, handing me my soda, and my damn impulses shiver in response.

My instincts want to lock them away with me in a nest and not let even one of them escape. It’s so bizarre that I snuggle back into the couch cushions, trying to determine what in the world changed recently.

* * *

I pace my way across the green room and back again, shaking out my hands as I go. We managed a short practice since Marcus was only available for thirty minutes, and it didn’t feel like nearly enough time. We ran through our duet, but honestly, the others aren’t concerned, and I probably wouldn’t be either if my system wasn’t so out of whack all of a sudden. However, it’s a universal fact that each venue has its own acoustics. That probably means I’m not overreacting. I’m just thinking logically, right? Or maybe I’m on the verge of a panic attack. It really could go either way at this point.

Sullivan tilts his head, watching me predatorily, and it makes it very difficult not to bolt in the opposite direction. My system is in full freak-out mode as I swivel, taking the turn back to pace in the opposite direction.

“Oakley,” he says.

“I’m fine,” I lie. It’s pretty clear, even to my own ears, once I realize how shaky my tone came out. I’ve been royally screwing up everything lately. My first few songs always betray my nerves. The guys are doing their best to cover for me, but that’s also not their job.

You’re only as strong as your weakest link, and at this point, I’m that link.

ChapterFifteen

Sullivan

“Oakley.” I stomp across the greenroom to her side. I hate this shit. I can see she’s suffering, but I don’t have the first clue how to fix it. There was a time she would have come to me if she was hurting. That time has long passed. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to repair that either, even though I want to more than anything.

“I said I’m fine,” she snaps, pacing back the other direction.

“Bullshit,” I deadpan.

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