So without another word, I do.
IVAN GORSHKOV, HIGHLY RESPECTED RUSSIAN PIANO instructor, hated me. I knew it right away. He resented that there was so little he could teach a nine-year-old. He would rap my knuckles with a bamboo wand for minor mistakes. He’d set this metronome on the piano facing me. It ran constantly for the hours I studied with him. This perennial, steady, annoying tick.
In some twisted, Pavlovian way, that metronome is the sound of my fury. I’ve only experienced it a few times in my life, but when I’m enraged, that steady tick is in my head. It’s my pulse. It’s the aural expression of my rage. It’s ticking in my chest like a bomb, primed to detonate. And God help anyone in my vicinity.
Thank God Kai left. I couldn’t focus with her here. The thought of that vermin trespassing inside my girl has my stomach heaving. For him, that piece of shit, to have ever even touched her with those lying lips, to have had his mouth, his fingers near her, inside her. I’m tortured imagining the positions he had her in. If he took her from behind. If he came inside of her.
I’m a storm in motion. Thunder rumbles under my skin. Lightning strikes behind my eyes. I rush past the studios and down the halls, the metronome in my head marking my steps. Tick fucking tock. I don’t even want to check this fury. I want to unleash it gale-force on that shitbag.
When I reach the Birch studio, I barely take note of the producer, the engineer, the singer at the board. My eyes zero in on the booth where Drex stands behind the glass and at the microphone, eyes closed and listening back to a track in the headphones.
“I need the room.” My hoarse voice barges into their conversation.
“What?” The singer Drex is collaborating with stands from his seat at the soundboard. “We paid for this session, Gray. What do you mean you need the room?”
“Session’s on me.” I’m struggling to contain my anger long enough to get witnesses out of here. “And I’ll throw in another for free.”
“You’ll throw in another?” The singer asks. “What do you mean?”
“I’m part owner of Wood.” I deliberately slow my words. “And I need the room. It won’t take long. Fifteen minutes tops I need with Drex.”
Understanding dawns on their faces. The enmity between Drex and me is well-documented in our circles. One by one they stand and drift off.
“This is between you and Drex,” the singer says before he walks out the door. “But when I come back in fifteen minutes, I need him still able to sing. We’re finishing this song tonight.”
I nod, but who knows what will happen?
I walk into the booth and close the door.
Drex opens his eyes, sliding the headphones off his head and around his neck. I don’t have anything to say to him yet. Instead, I slam him against the soundproofed wall, manacling his wrists in one hand and wrapping the wires around his neck with the other, pulling them taut. Red invades his face, and his eyes stretch until I think they may pop out of his head. I want them to pop out of his head. I tighten the wires more, drawing his ears closer to my lips so I can whisper to him.
“Do I have your attention, you loathsome piece of shit?”
He can’t speak. His oxygen is choked off. He sputters.
“Nod.”
He does, frantically.
“You probably think I’m going to say that if you ever touch her again, I’ll destroy you, right?” I hiss into his reddened ear. “That’s what you’ve heard, isn’t it? That when people cross me, I make them pay because I have influence in this town. Is that what you’ve heard?”
He nods and whimpers.
“In your pathetic mind, you probably think your career is tanked because of something I’ve done. Some strings I’ve pulled. Nope. You’re just a low-rate, mediocre no-talent. I didn’t have to lift a finger to ruin your career. You do that just by sucking.”
He jerks at me, like he can do something, but he can’t
“That’s not what I’m here to tell you, fucker.” Anger makes me pant. Makes me sweat. “I’m here to tell you—now listen close to this part because I’m not ever saying it again—I’m here to tell you that if you ever touch her again, come near her again, or even talk about her to anyone, I’ll kill you.”
I pull back to peer into his panic-stretched eyes.
“Kill. Dead. Not metaphorical. Do you understand?”
The booth door flies open, and Marlon rushes in, pulling me off the douchebag. Drex slides down the wall to land on his ass, hauling in air like his life depends on it, clutching his neck.
“What are you doing?” Marlon shoves at my chest. “You’re trippin’! You can’t just go around—”
“I can. I just did.” I jerk back and stare at Drex. “Don’t forget what I said, motherfucker.”
And I’m out. I hear Drex hurling obscenities and empty threats at my back. Thinking I give a fuck. The thought of that lizard having sex with my girl is a buzz saw right down the center of my brain, but that isn’t the worst part. The worst part is he knows, everybody knows, I’ve never bothered committing to anyone. I haven’t been serious about anyone since Petra, and that was high school. When I went public with Kai, I had no idea what he had against me. Against her. Any scruples he has, he sets aside to get at me. I’ve seen it before. And for him to know how much Kai means to me, to know he slept with her, it doesn’t just anger and disgust me, it flat out petrifies me. How will he use this against her to get at me?
I climb behind the wheel, phone to my ear.
“Gep, she still with you?”
“No, she went home.”
“Good. I’m on my way there now.”
The silence on the other end feels off.
“Gep, what?”
“Not your place. She went back to her apartment.”
I should have seen that coming, but it still jolts my heart. I turn the SUV around and head for her place.
“How was she?”
“Not good. Maybe you should, you know . . .”
“Don’t say give her some space. That shit’s not happening.”
I hang up before he can bestow more of his sage relationship advice on me. When I pull into the parking lot of Kai’s apartment, I don’t know why I’m surprised to see a few paps camped out.
My damn life.
Oh, well. They might just get a show because there’s no way I’m letting this go tonight.
One of them approaches me, shutters snapping.
“Did you and Kai have a fight? She looked upset when she got home.”
I ignore him, stabbing the doorbell.
“Rhyson, how do you feel about Kai living with another man?”
“Can you address rumors that she’s also seeing Dub Shaughnessy?”
I’m about two seconds from shoving that camera up a very dark hole in that little gremlin’s body if he doesn’t back off me.
The door cracks open, chain on, to reveal a sliver of San’s face. He doesn’t look happy to see me. I’m not happy to see him either.
“I need to come in.”
“I don’t think so.” He slits his eyes at me. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Tonight. Now. Open the door, San.” I glance over my shoulder. “I really don’t want to give these carnies a freak show, but I will.”
“What did you do to make her cry?”
Something as hot as acid burns my throat at even the thought of her tears, but I gulp it back.
“Nothing,” I lie. “I didn’t do anything. It’s a misunderstanding. Let me in so we can talk about it.”
“Rhyson, dammit.”
“I love her.” I trap his eyes through the tiny space the chain allows, not even caring if the reporters behind me hear. “You know I do. I’d never hurt her.”