Page 99 of Wicked Truths

“Do you know that I love you?” I ask, nuzzling my cheek to his.

“Yeah?” His face breaks into a wide smile. “I love you too.”

I push my mouth to his for another quick kiss.

* * *

“I’ve picked our three songs,” Liam says, staring Jamen and Lyric down. His brown hair falls over his forehead, and even though he’s desperately trying to block his emotions, they’re all over the place. “You’re going to have to eat the penalties for two of them.”

Lyric nods, stepping forward with Jamen’s son, Rook, at her side. “Of course, I’ll pay it personally. I’m so—”

“The label will pay the penalty if the songs aren’t negotiable,” Rook says firmly.

“We will,” Jamen agrees.

“Does that mean you’re a sure thing?” Rook wraps an arm around Lyric’s lower back.

“Yeah.” Liam rolls his jaw from side to side. “But we need a chance to practice.”

“You can go last. You’ll be up after Matted Whine,” Jamen says. “You can close it out.”

“Point us to where our instruments are.” I cuddle close to Liam’s chest. He palms my ass and nuzzles his cheek against the top of my head.

ChapterThirty-Two

Marcus

The new Ruined Records arena is fucking insane. I knew it coming in, but even the energy backstage is enough to make me wish I had time to pull Oakley away for a pre-show quickie. We’ve practiced as well as we can under the circumstances.

It’s wild that we’ll be closing out a show that features some of the biggest names in our generation.

I’m still fucking baffled how they set this thing up and how Jamen always manages to stack his shows with bands that aren’t even signed to his label. I guess that’s the benefit of being in the industry for thirty years.

Lyric and Ryder pull Liam aside for a quick talk before we take the stage, but Oakley won’t leave his side. She glares at my sister and Lyric’s beta during the entire tense conversation. Not that I mind. I still don’t particularly like Ryder. I tolerate him solely because he treats my sister well.

Matted Whine bounces off the stage and back out again to the screams of fans. Who knows if the audience will be satisfied with us when they’ve been utterly spoiled with well-known, huge name bands.

I shove my hands in my pockets as Jamen approaches. He and Donovan Lee have been taking turns introing the next artist on the line up. Donovan is out there thanking Dexter and Issac and he’s about to call for us.

“You’ve been dodging my calls,” Jamen says conversationally.

“If I had known this was coming, I’d have dodged your wife and Lyric too.” I raise my eyebrows so there’s no mistaking thefuckoffthat goes unsaid.

Huh, I guess I am evolving. There was a time I would’ve just said it.

“Yeah, it wasn’t one of their brighter moments, but I think it’ll do him some good. The longer he kept the truth from you, the more it would’ve become a festering wound.” Jamen sighs. “There’s some other shit I want to talk to you about, but I’m not going to drop it on you right before you take the stage.”

“If you’re about to cut us—”

“For fuck’s sake,” Jamen interrupts me. “No, PR has gotten more requests for you guys than any other up-and-coming band on the label.”

“I’m sure that has everything to do with Angel,” I mutter, swiping a hand over my face. If not my lovely biological mother, then possibly the controversy surrounding Liam.

“No,” Jamen says firmly. “It’s part of what I need to talk to you about as a group after the show, but we’d like to get Wicked Truths in the studio to record.”

My jaw falls.

Recording means radio is within reach. It also means an entirely different level of fame.

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