Captivated (19 page)

Arriving
at the ballpark during the eighth inning was an odd feeling. The crowd
’s
roar reached him in the parking lot. So much energy, and he was on the outside
looking in. The summons to immediately report to Ramon’s office for a meeting
had been delivered to him via his agent minutes after the story broke about
what had happened at the bar. He hadn’t felt good about leaving Irisa, but
couldn’t ignore the
get your ass here and face the music
urgency.

His agent, Lee, met him
by the door.
“Before we go in, you want to tell me what happened?”

“My girlfriend was facing
a dangerous situation. She needed me.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing stupid. No
fighting. Just kept her out of the line of fire.” He walked through the halls
of the team facility, footsteps heavy on the tiled floor.

“The brass will see us at
the end of the game. For now, get changed. I can’t believe you were walking
around out there in your uniform.”

What could he say?
I
agree
?
His beloved blue and green had made him easily identifiable.
The empty locker room seemed extra quiet. As he changed clothes, his ears
strained for any signs of team personnel. 

Lee tucked his phone into
his pocket.
“Let’s get up to his office. Ramon won’t go easy on
you.”

Speculating on what might
happen wouldn
’t help anything. He needed a chance to plead his
case. “I get that he’s angry I walked out on a game, but Irisa was in danger. I
couldn’t ignore that.”

He nodded at Ramon
’s
secretary, then followed his agent into the GM’s office. The TV mounted to the
wall gave a crystal-clear view of his teammates on the field, and Nokes in his
spot. The kid looked too comfortable there.

The game ended in a
Riptide loss. Great. Dusty would be in an even worse mood.

Lee glanced at him.
“I’m
pretty sure they’re coming here right away. Let me do most of the talking.”

Finally, footsteps
sounded and Dusty
’s unmistakable voice rang out. Dom
straightened in his seat. He’d done the right thing where his heart was
concerned.

Ramon entered first.
“Dom.
Lee.” The older man sat behind his desk. Dusty and one of the team’s PR people
sat in chairs to his right. Tim, from security, stood in the back of the room.

Dom inhaled slow and deep
and met everyone
’s gaze before dropping into his seat. “I
apologize for walking out on the game. I wouldn’t have done that without a good
reason.”

“And you call going to a
bar a good reason?” Dusty shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on with
you, but this is it. You’re done.”

Dom looked at Ramon.
“My
girlfriend was in trouble. She needed me.”

Ramon folded his hands
and his mouth formed a firm line.
“You didn’t give us any
heads-up. You just walked out. If you were truly concerned over Ms. Rostov’s
safety, you would have notified the police.”

Shit. He should have
called the cops.
“I wanted to get to her as fast as
possible. I didn’t think about anything beyond that.”

“You didn’t think, is
right.” Dusty stood and wagged his finger in Dom’s face. “A fight on the field,
then two fistfights, and now this. Strike four doesn’t exist, buddy. You won’t
be playing on my team.”

Anger swirled hot in his
gut. He resisted the urge to knock the old bastard
’s
finger out of his face. Then Dusty’s words sank in. “What do you mean, I won’t
be playing on your team?”

Lee leaned forward.
“Are
you benching him for another series?”

Ramon stood from behind
his desk.
“He’s fined fifty thousand and he’s suspended for the
rest of the season.”

Dom shot up from his
seat.
“You’re
serious?”

Dusty glared at him.
“And
if I’m here next season, you won’t be.”

“Your actions are a
distraction and an embarrassment. You let your teammates down and your fans
down. You let me down.” Ramon rubbed his temples and sighed. “I thought the
anger classes had helped you. I’m sorry it had to come to this. I hope you get
the help you need.”

Dom slammed his fist on
the chair
’s arm. His world tilted. Baseball was in his blood.
He needed to play. “Now, hold on.”

“I’ll have security
escort you to clean out your locker.” Ramon nodded to Tim.

The hulking former
linebacker gave Dom a sympathetic smile.
“Ready to go?”

“No way.” Dom stepped
closer to Ramon’s desk.

Lee cut in front of him,
holding up his hands.
“Not now. Clean out your locker, then go
home and cool off.”

Rage colored his vision.
He slammed out of the office. How could he have been so stupid? Suspension
could lead to him losing his sponsorships. It could affect his charity. He took
the stairs to the lower level. Did his teammates already know? He shoved open
the door to the locker room. Only a few of the guys had lingered after the
game.

Adam, Slade, Liam, and
Mario looked up. Adam spoke first.
“Verdict?”

“Done for the fucking
season.” He strode to his locker.

“Seriously?” Slade
dropped down onto the bench beside him.

“What did you think was
going to happen?” Mario shook his head and sneered. “You screwed us over and
ended up in a bar fight.”

“I didn’t fight.” He
pushed the words through gritted teeth.

“Right, sure you didn’t.”
The catcher’s lip curled. “Your head’s been messed up this season, man. You
need to get your shit together or you’ll be back in the minors or out on your
sorry ass.”

Adam stepped in front of
Mario.
“Enough.”

“Whatever. You think I
want to answer any more questions about you to the press? I’m glad you’ll be
gone. I’m tired of my team making headlines because you can’t keep it
together.” He lumbered away.

Dom shoved his hands into
his pockets and faced his three best friends.
“I don’t know what
to say. I’m sorry I let you down. I did what I thought was right.”

“What happened today?”
Liam leaned against the locker and rested his foot on the bench. “We saw Irisa
and the band in some of the pictures.”

Tim stepped forward,
holding out a box of trash bags.
“I’m sorry, Dom, but I
can’t let you hang around. The boss told me to get you out of here within five
minutes. You need to start cleaning out your locker.”

Slade blocked Dom
’s
arm mid-reach. “I’ll bring your stuff to you later.”

“Thanks, bud, but I got
it.” He accepted a trash bag from Tim. Fitting, because garbage was exactly
what he felt like. He tossed items in at random, not caring if anything broke.

“We’ll come over
tonight,” Adam promised.

“Don’t. It might get you
suspended, too.” The familiar burn in his blood fueled his movements. The fury
hadn’t reappeared since the last fight with his dad. He glanced at Tim. Losing
the thread of control over his temper wouldn’t help anyone. “I’m ready.”

The drive back to his
apartment didn
’t calm him. Neither did Champ’s greeting. He dropped
the bag on the floor, then kicked it into the closet. He didn’t regret what
he’d done. He’d do it again, if it meant keeping Irisa safe.

They were crazy if they
thought he wouldn
’t appeal the sentence. He told Lee as
much when his agent called. Lee advised him to sit tight and not make any
stupid decisions that could further jeopardize his career, which translated to
stay
home and don
’t talk to anyone
.
What else was there left to do? The media was having a field day with the
footage that had been captured of him going into the bar in full uniform.

His phone rang.
Dad
Cell.
No way. Not happening. Not today.

He dropped onto the
couch. He didn
’t know what he’d do if he’d truly lost his chance to
play ball.

At
the arena that night, Irisa found a quiet corner and answered the flood of
emails that had come in. She updated all of the band
’s
social media accounts and issued a statement from the band, saying their
thoughts were with Seth and Assertive Ire, and withheld comment on what had
happened between her own guys. Some people were speculating that the radio
incident had been scripted, fake drama done as a way to plug The Caboose.
Others were insisting the band was breaking up. Hopefully, they could pull off
a decent performance. After what had happened with Seth, she sure as hell
didn’t have any energy left. The band stayed civil and barely spoke to each
other, but the tension was suffocating. She’d asked members of the road crew to
hang around and help keep the peace.

Fifteen minutes before
the guys were due onstage, she closed her laptop and headed for the restroom.

Jayne came out, eyes
red-rimmed. She wrung her hands together.
“Can I talk to you?”

Internal alarms rang in
Irisa
’s
head. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this anymore.
There’s too much discord. With other bands, I have to deal with some of the same
stuff I do here, but it’s not as bad. Luke really doesn’t like me, and I’m
messing with the band’s dynamic.”

Irisa reached for her
hand. He stomach felt like a lead weight held it down. A small part of her wasn
’t
surprised. She’d heard the frustration in Jayne’s voice that morning. She
couldn’t deny that Luke had been a major pain. “We need you.”

“You need an effective
assistant who doesn’t make the band mates crazy. I can’t give you that. You’re
my friend, and I care about your brother. I want this band to be successful.
That’s why I have to go.”

Her stomach rolled but
she was too exhausted to beg Jayne to stay. What else could go wrong? Her
insides turned numb.
“Have you talked to Zander?”

“Not yet. You hired me,
so I wanted to come to you first.”

She nodded. Should she be
angry? Jayne
’s promise not to quit rang in her ears. But then
again, Irisa had glossed over the band’s fighting, and somehow Jayne seemed to
bring out the worst in Luke. “I’ll tell him after the show.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Ignoring the
bitter pangs of anger and regret, she forced her lips to curve in a smile. “You
might as well go on home now. Get a start on recovering from our craziness.”

Jayne glanced toward the
hallway leading to the exit.
“I don’t want to leave you hanging.”

“Everyone’s pretty
emotional today. It’s better that you go now.” And not set off Luke again
during or after the show.

“All right.”

Irisa waited until Jayne
walked the full length of the hallway before going to get the band. She found
them in opposite areas of the room, the silence glaringly loud. The members of
the crew were the only ones who called out greetings.
“Guys,
it’s showtime.”

Zander rose.
“Where’s
Jayne? Is she already backstage?”

“She went home.”

“Why? Is she sick?”

Should she lie? A little
fib to get them through the show? Telling them the truth could wreck their
concentration.
“She needed some quiet time. Come on, get
to the stage.”

“Quiet time?” He shook
his head and pulled out his phone. “I swear, if you don’t tell me what the
hell’s going on…”

“Fine. She quit. I hope
you’re all happy about your part in that.” She glared at them. Resentment built
fast. Her relationship with her best friend might be ruined.

“You mean Luke’s part in
that.” Zander’s head whipped in the singer’s direction. Then he pushed his way
out of the room and sprinted down the hall, in the direction away from the
stage.

“Great. Just great.” She
dragged her hands through her hair, then jerked her thumb at the rest of the
band. “Get to the stage. I’ll play his damn guitar myself if he’s not back in
time.”

Ten minutes later, the
fans were chanting the band
’s name. Irisa stood on the darkened
stage and gripped Zander’s guitar in her hands. She only knew the basics he’d
taught her, and they weren’t enough to fake her way through the songs. Where
was he?

He strode onto the stage,
hair disheveled, eyes wild, and held out his hand.
“Give
me that before you hurt someone.”

“Are you all right?”

He strapped on the
guitar.
“No.
But I’ll play. You’d better go. This place is about to explode.”

She backed off. She
’d
never seen that look in his eyes before. They opened with “Temperature Rising”,
then rolled into “Cut Down”. While Luke talked to the crowd, Zander kept to his
side of the stage. Three more songs down, and she began to relax.

The opening riff of
“My
Fist, Your Face”, their most heavy, volatile song, began and Zander moved
closer to the fans. After the last chorus, during what should have been
Zander’s guitar solo, Luke kept singing, improvising lyrics that didn’t go with
the song and only covered up her brother’s shredding.

Zander kicked him and
glared, playing even faster. Luke shoved her brother
’s
shoulder and kept singing. Glowering, they faced off. Zander stopped playing
and shoved at Luke’s chest with both hands. The singer stumbled back a few
steps, then lunged at Zander with a punch. They grabbed onto each other like
two prizefighters.

No.

Irisa stepped onto the
stage, but Landry was faster. The bass player jumped between them. Whatever he
yelled was swallowed by the cheering crowd. The only music came from Brendan
’s
drums. He improvised a crashing, clanging solo.

Landry pushed Luke back
to the left side of the stage, then pointed Zander to the right side, and then
grabbed the mic.
“See what happens when we get caught up in
the music?”

The crowd cheered, but
Irisa wanted to cry. They
’d never come to blows before.

Landry stayed in the
middle of the stage for the rest of the show. Apparently, he
’d
had enough. He wasn’t the only one.

As soon as the last note
faded, her phone lit with a call from Oliver.

“Hi, Ris. How’d the show
go tonight?” His tone was too snide.

“I have a lot going on.
Can we skip the small talk?” Zander and Luke strode by her. Landry and Brendan
followed close behind. All of their expressions promised murder.

“All right. Well, I know
how the show went tonight. You want to tell me what’s going on over there?”

Patience worn thin
finally snapped.
“If you’re going to try to tell me how to
do my job again, you can back off. And if that’s the only reason you’re
calling, then I don’t have time for this.”

“It’s my job to make sure
you’re doing your job. And with all that happened today, the radio interview
and the fight onstage that’s just gone viral, it’s obvious that you’re not
doing your job.”

She paced across the
darkened stage, dodging crew members.
“They finished the show.
Everyone’s fine now. They’ll be back to their normal selves for the next show.”

“Their normal selves have
been bad for business. The label has a lot of money invested in the band. With
what’s happened so far, they see this band crashing into a brick wall, and they
don’t think you’re capable of keeping things together.”

Blood pounded through her
veins.
“Hold
on. They can’t fire me. I work for the band, not the label.”

“They’re strongly
suggesting that you resign as manager. If not, they’re going to pull the band
from the tour.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m not kidding, Ris.
Give me your decision within twenty-four hours.”

The call ended. She
stared at the phone. Stunned. Her stomach burned. She pressed her hand against
it and stared out into the emptying arena.

She couldn
’t
deny that the guys were falling apart. But they were
her
guys.
Her
mess to fix. But maybe they were too far gone. Maybe they did
need a change. Luke
’s words, even if he hadn’t meant them,
might be true. …
when things start falling apart
…
They fire the manager
…

The guys had a right to
know what Oliver said, and a right to decide who they wanted by their side.
Squaring her shoulders, she walked down the hall. Raised voices rang out.

“Not again.” She raced
for their room. The door opened with a click. They were squared off, Landry and
Brendan against Luke and Zander. None of the men were bleeding, but she didn’t
doubt they were seconds from coming to blows.

She stood in the middle
of the room as insults flew and blame was cast. Each barb hurled from one band
member to another passed through her like a poison-tipped arrow.

“Stop!” The word exploded
out of her. The guys turned and stared. “Just stop. This isn’t helping. You
guys are like brothers. Remember that before you say anything else.”

Zander glanced at the
other guys. Rubbing his hand over his hair, he took a few steps back, and then
his gaze narrowed on her.
“What’s going on? You look like
you’re about to fall over.”

Her heart pounded in her
throat.
“I
just spoke with Oliver. Excite is demanding that I resign as your manager,
effective immediately.”

“
What?
”

“They’ve put a lot of
money into you, and given recent events, they feel that I’m incapable of
keeping things together.” She stared at each of them, heart breaking over their
angry expressions. “And they’re right.”

“Screw them. You’re my
sister. They can’t make you quit.” He crossed to her.

“If I don’t resign,
they’re going to pull you guys off the tour.”

He shook his head.
“They
wouldn’t kick us off.”

“Is it so hard to
believe? Not to me. Not after all that’s happened since before it began. The
arrest, the bar fight, Luke quitting, Luke and Zander’s behavior during the
interview, the disaster at the bar, the mess with Jayne, and now a fistfight on
stage.” She ticked off each instance on her fingers. “I’ve failed at keeping
things calm. Maybe you do need someone else.”

Zander shook his head.
“No
way. I lost Jayne today. I’m not losing you, too.”

“The alternative is
getting pulled from the tour. You don’t want that. I don’t want that.”

“It’s always been family
first with us, right? That’s not changing now.” He turned toward at the guys.
“Maybe we lost focus of that.”

No one said anything for
several moments, but the air seemed thick with thoughts and heavy with
emotions.

Brendan came over. Always
the peacemaker.
“We wouldn’t be the same without you. The
band needs you.” He met her brother’s stare with a half-smile. “The band needs
all of us.”

Zander clapped him on the
back.
“Thanks,
man.”

Landry joined them.
“No
one else would fit in.”

Finally Luke crossed the
room with slow steps.
“You’re as much a part of this band as we
are.” He offered her a small smile. The first smile she’d seen on his face in
days.

They huddled around her,
a protective wall of solid support. Somehow, they
’d come together
and forged a truce, for her. She hated to break the spell, but… “You’ve been at
each other’s throats, but my problem makes you all come together?”

Zander rested his hand on
Luke
’s
shoulder, then nodded toward Brendan and Landry. “We cleared the air on a few
things while you were on the phone.”

“I walked in on the tail
end of that conversation, remember? It wasn’t friendly.”

“No. Before that…” He
raised his eyebrows at Luke.

The singer nodded.
“What
happened with Seth was a wake-up call. He went in the back room, and I was so
ticked off and caught up in the interview I didn’t realize he never came out. I
lost focus and blame myself for him ending up in the hospital. I’ve already
apologized to Griffin and his band, and to these guys, but I need to apologize
to you. I’ve been an asshole for a while. I’m sorry.”

“
Why
have
you been one?
”

Luke shoved his hand
through his hair.
“Audrey Pierce.”

Irisa failed to see the
connection between him and the fashion designer the band had befriended during
their East Coast tour.
“I don’t understand.”

“I thought we had
something, but she had other thoughts…” He glanced at Zander, then shifted back
to Irisa. “When Jayne laid into me today about not running that errand, some things
she said really hit home. I figured out of all people, I could talk to you
about it, and about Audrey, so I called you…”