Page 94 of Wicked Truths

“You’re welcome. This way we can add charms to it through all of our future adventures.” I nuzzle my cheek to hers.

“Okay, so now that we’ve opened courting gifts. Can we please head back to the nest?” Oakley asks, peeking around at the guys from under her hood.

Marcus chuckles, pushing himself up. “Whatever the princess wants.”

ChapterThirty

Liam

We ride out the last few days at The Exchange. Hawk eventually reminds us all that Jamen has been trying to get in touch with us for days. It’s probably not the most professional we’ve ever been, but luckily he’s a decent enough human being to not punish us for Oakley’s designation. Or that’s the hope. The others seem more confident of that fact than I am, but whatever, there isn’t much we can do about it now.

Marcus handles communicating with the label for us. We started in Florida, but Ruined Records opened a Colorado office earlier this year. It just so happens it’s not even an hour away from where we’ve been staying at The Exchange. Apparently we won’t be heading back out on tour with Trigger Finger because Jamen wants us to come into the Ruined offices.

It leaves a bit of a bad taste in my mouth, but I’m fairly sure if he drops us now that he could be on the hook for a huge lawsuit for discrimination. Not that he can’t afford it.

We were technically ready to leave yesterday, but Jamen’s wife told us to hang around the resort an extra day. She’s his executive assistant, and it didn’t seem to put anyone else on high alert.

Who knows why my nerves are shot, but they are. It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop now that things are going good.

It likely also has something to do with the fact that I’ve had plenty of opportunities to come clean about my past. We’ve done nothing but sit around shooting the shit and waiting for Oakley to feel better.

It would have been the ideal time to open up, but I chickened out. For all the hell I gave Hawk about how it comes off when you keep secrets, I sure can’t seem to take my own advice.

* * *

We’ve been summoned to the new Ruined Records arena, not the offices, and I don’t have the first clue why. We pack everything up into two label SUVs and take off. Most of our shit is taking up the other vehicle, so we’re packed into one. Hawk and Sullivan are in the middle row, and Marcus and Oakley are in the back with me.

“Are you okay?” my little omega asks, patting my thigh. “You seem riled.”

“I’m good, sweetness,” I assure her, tossing my arm over her shoulder.

Her head tilts as she studies me, nuzzling deeper into my chest. “If you’re sure.”

Her eyes are so sincere as she blinks up at me that I have to hold myself back from telling her I love her. That should probably come once I let them all in on the reality that I’m the reason my entire previous band is dead. If I wasn’t such a selfish fuck, I probably would have done that before we bonded. She’s stuck with me now whether or not she wants to be.

I blow out a heavy breath, and Oakley turns even further in my direction. I’m not busting out my past in the back of a moving vehicle. Instead, I paste on a fake-as-fuck smile and promise myself I’ll lay it all out there the next chance I get.

Unless I chicken the fuck out again.

* * *

The Ruined Records arena is next level. The entire area is packed with people, and it becomes clear pretty fast that something is up. The traffic is unreal, and the radio on the way in is hyping some special benefit concert.

I’m not sure how I don’t put two and two together until we’re inside the arena. Storm and Griffin are two of Lyric’s pack. They started out as part of her security team, but now they run the Colorado office of Stone Security. They usher us from the talent drop off to the backstage area.

“Does anyone else feel like this is weird?” Marcus mutters, bumping his shoulder against mine.

“Yes,” Sullivan and I say in unison.

“I feel like we’re being corralled toward something,” Hawk mutters, glaring at Griffin and Storm.

“Me too,” Oakley agrees.

Griffin pushes through a door, and there are bodies everywhere. The guys from Ruin are all standing around in a semicircle with Dexter Clark and Issac Matthews.

The vibe instantly puts me on edge even further, if that’s possible.

“Oh, hey, you guys made it.” Lyric smiles, and it looks like she might be physically in pain.

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