Reckless (59 page)

Shaking his head, Matt clapped Griffin on the back. “It’s nice to see that becoming a husband and father hasn’t changed you in the slightest, cuz.”

Griffin sniffed and tucked his pale, chin-length hair behind his ears. “Did you think it would?”

After the laughter died down, Kellan looked at each band member in turn. Seeing his expression, Evan and Matt gave him their complete attention. Matt smacked Griffin to get him to stop goofing
off. Once they were all looking at him, Kellan said, “Tomorrow morning, we’re going to a radio station to perform. We’re scheduled to play two songs, pimp the album and the
concert, and leave. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to sing.” Still bouncing Gibson, he looked over at me. “I want to talk, and I want to tell them
everything.”

I swallowed as my nerves spiked. “You want to go on air, behind Sienna and Nick’s back, and tell the world what they did? How they manipulated you?”

Kellan nodded. “And I want to tell them exactly who you are to me.”

A smile crept onto my lips at the same time that my stomach rose into my throat. “Then I’ll talk with you. We’ll do this interview together.”

Kellan lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure? It’s one of the largest radio stations on the east coast.”

My smile shifted to a frown as I thought of speaking into a microphone that would be heard by thousands of people. “Yes, I’m sure. If you’re going to do something as reckless
as throw your record label and the biggest pop star on the planet under the bus, then I’m going to be right beside you.” I lifted my wrist to show him the tattoo of his name branded on
my skin. “I’m done hiding. And now I have to go throw up.”

Kellan laughed at me as he leaned over and kissed me. After we pulled apart, Kellan turned to the guys. “This affects you too. If I tell everyone what we did to boost sales, it could hurt
us. Sienna was right about that—the stigma could follow us for years. Are you guys okay with that?”

I watched the other band members carefully. Kellan was right, this affected the entire band, and Kellan didn’t want to see them suffer. That was one of the reasons Kellan had played along
in the first place.

Walking over, Evan picked me up and squeezed the life out of me. “I hated hearing all that Kell-Sex crap, so I’m thrilled it’s about to be over.”

Kellan nodded, then looked over at Matt. Matt wasn’t always as easygoing as the others, and he took the D-Bags’ career very seriously. As much as I hated to admit it, Kellan and I
were about to wrap the band in a scandal that could end up really harming them.

Matt held Kellan’s eye, but didn’t speak. Feeling the tension, Kellan shrugged, and told him, “I’m sorry, Matt. I really didn’t expect any of this . . . and I
won’t come clean if everyone’s not onboard.”

Smiling, Matt slugged Kellan’s shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing, man. Don’t worry about it.” He pointed at every D-Bag. “We just have to make sure the
next album rocks so freaking hard that all of this doesn’t mean a damn thing.”

Kellan clapped his arm. “Deal.”

On the car ride over to the radio station the next day, my nerves were ablaze and anxiety sizzled every cell in my body. I was used to being in the background. I was
comfortable there. Being shoved into the spotlight was going to burn a little. But I had to do this. It may not change the way some people thought of me, but I had to stand by my husband’s
side while he put himself out on a limb. If it broke, at least we’d both fall together.

The boys checked out the sights as we drove through the packed streets of the Big Apple. We’d briefly been here before during the promo tour, and one thing I’d never get used to
about New York City was how many cars and taxis filled the busy streets. The city teemed with life. There was movement everywhere—the roads, sidewalks, buildings, even the windows. It was so
active it gave me a little buzz. I felt like I had suddenly developed restless leg syndrome; I couldn’t be still. Of course, that could just be my nerves flaring up.

Kellan watched me in the car, amusement in his eyes. I wanted to tell Mr. No Nerves to stow it, but I had a frog in my throat and couldn’t speak at all . . . yet. Reaching into his pocket,
Kellan grabbed something, then handed it to me. Curious, I looked down and saw a fuchsia rose petal in my hand. In Sharpie he’d written
You are a
and drawn a tiny star. I glanced up
at him, confused. He pointed at the petal. “I finished your book. It’s amazing, Kiera. You really should get it published.”

Smiling, I looked back at the silky petal in my fingers. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it after you read it all.”

His arm wrapped around me. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m pretty sure I love you even more. How you see me . . . I never thought anyone would ever . . .” His
voice trailed off as his throat tightened with emotion.

Understanding, I looked back up at him. “That’s because you don’t see yourself as clearly as I see you.”

Laughing, he pulled me tight. “God, we really are peas in a pod, aren’t we?”

My nerves not quite so bad, I nestled into his side. While he played with my wedding ring, I again marveled at his ability to turn my emotions around. And at his ability to constantly surprise
me. Looking back up at him, I asked, “Where the hell do you keep getting these petals?”

Eyes mischievous, he murmured, “I’m a man of many mysteries, Mrs. Kyle.” Then he started laughing again.

When we arrived at the radio station, the crowd was massive. How people found us everywhere we went, I’d never understand; it was almost like there was a D-Bag warning alert that went off
in every town we visited.

Some of the people in the crowd around the station had handmade signs proclaiming their love for their favorite D-Bag. There were a lot of signs for Kellan, but the other boys were being loved
on too. It was surreal to see people I knew being idolized at
this
level. I mean, some of the girls were sobbing as they waited for a glimpse of the band—red-faced, snotty-nosed
sobbing. I was pretty sure that if the girl holding the sign that read—
Marry me, Griffin
—actually
knew
Griffin, she probably wouldn’t be shaking like a leaf. Or
asking for his hand. Well, maybe with the new, calmer, gentler Griffin. He wasn’t so bad. But pre-Gibson Griffin? No way.

The car let us out right in front of the crowd huddling around the front doors. Tory was with us, of course, and tried to immediately steer the boys into the station. They didn’t go in
right away, though. Evan warmly met fans by the front door, signing autographs and even hugging a couple of them. Matt stood a bit behind him, looking a little uncomfortable by the size of the
crowd, but happy to shake a couple hands. Griffin took off down the street. When he got to the end of the fans, he turned around and headed back to the front. He lifted his arms as he ran,
encouraging the crowd to do the same. Screaming, they mimicked him, and that’s when I realized what he was doing—he was making the fans do the wave. Dork.

Kellan laughed at Griffin’s antics as he waited for me by the car. When we were together, he held my hand and pulled me over to the fans. I was hesitant to go for several different
reasons: one, this was his job, not mine, and it felt intrusive to be included in it; and two, I didn’t want to get attacked before I’d even had the chance to say my peace.

The fans didn’t know how to react to my presence. They were so excited to be near Kellan that they were hollering, crying, and shaking. But somehow they still managed to give me dirty
looks. I hoped none of them were brave enough to say anything to me with Kellan a foot away from them. He would most definitely lose his temper if that happened.

Kellan let go of my hand to sign a few autographs. I held my ground and watched Kellan with a prideful smile on my face. He really was so great at it. He made a point of saying hello and making
eye contact with every person who handed him something. He was warm and open. He joked with them, and even made remarks that were just on the edge of being suggestive. Surprisingly, that
didn’t bother me in the slightest. I understood why he crooked a grin and told a tiny strawberry blond girl that he “was thrilled to see her too.” He wasn’t saying it in the
hopes of hooking up with her later, he was saying it for her. He was giving her a memory that she could hold on to, making her day. The mild flirting was actually sort of sweet.

Only one person had the guts to ask him about me. Proudly wearing her Kell-Sex shirt, the frowning fan jerked her thumb at me. “Why is
she
here with you?” Somehow she made
the word “she” sound profane.

Kellan kept his expression as neutral as possible. I didn’t think he was going to respond, but in a calm voice, he told her, “She’s my wife. She goes where I go.”

With that, he grabbed my hand and walked away. The sound of a handful of people gasping simultaneously was the last thing I heard before we darted inside the building. He’d never called me
that in public before. Kellan smiled at me once we were in the lobby. “It felt really good to say that.”

My heart plummeting now that we were even closer to disclosing our private life, I grumbled, “Just think how good it will feel to say it to millions of people in a few minutes.”

Seeing my nerves, Kellan wrapped his arm around me. “It’s not millions.” He pursed his lips. “I’m pretty sure it’s not millions.”

Discretely breaking us apart, Tory checked us in with security, then led us to the elevators. When we were all squished into the car, the intimidating blonde focused on Kellan and me.

Glancing at where we were holding hands, she told us, “You’re primarily here to perform a song or two for them, but I’ve allowed them five minutes at the beginning of your set
to ask you questions. Remember to keep the interview focused on the tour and your album. I’ve informed them not to ask you about your personal life, or anything about Sienna or the photo of
Kiera, but they will probably try to sneak in a comment or two.” Her cool gaze slid my way. “You should probably stay in the hallway during the interview, so as to not provoke
inappropriate questions.”

Face calm and composed, Kellan simply smiled. Taking that as an affirmative response, Tory twisted to face the elevator doors. Behind her back, Kellan flashed me a devilish smile, one that
clearly said,
Hell if I’m doing any of that.
My heart surged with anxious adrenaline. God, I hoped I didn’t pass out.

When we got to the studio, I could see that the light was on—they were live. I felt nauseated but gave Kellan a confident smile. We could do this. I could do this. An intern for the radio
station let us in. Looking confident and intimidating, Tory walked through first. Her hawklike eyes took in everything around her, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t going to see this
coming.

A tall, middle-aged man standing behind a confusing board of switches and buttons smiled into the microphone when he saw our group entering. “The D-Bags have just arrived at the studio.
Good to see you again, guys.”

Kellan reached over and shook the man’s hand. We’d been here before, during our whirlwind promo tour, and I instantly remembered something about this studio that I had forgotten
about. They had web cameras set up in every corner of the room. Not only was the world going to hear our confession, they were going to see it too.

Indicating a group of chairs set up for the band, the DJ told us, “Have a seat.”

As Matt, Evan, and Griffin sat down, Kellan turned to a grizzly looking DJ behind a laptop. “Can we get an extra chair?” He indicated me with his head.

The man looked confused, then surprised, like he recognized me. Hopping up, he told Kellan, “Sure, no problem.”

As a chair was set up for me beside Kellan’s, I risked a glance at Tory. She was glowering; she hadn’t wanted me in the room. She wasn’t putting a stop to it yet, but she might
when we started speaking.

An attractive brunette behind another laptop beamed at the boys. “It’s so nice to have you back. How have you been?” Her eyes focused on Kellan first, locked on me, shifted to
the rest of the boys, then locked back on me. I could feel the curiosity emanating from her.

As headphones were set up on the guys, a microphone was handed to Kellan. He wasted no time in starting the conversation that I was both dreading and looking forward to. “Not so great,
actually.”

All of the DJs’ eyes lit up as they stared at Kellan. People generally did not speak the truth when asked that question. It truly was just a nicety to smooth the path before the real
questions were introduced. The woman flicked her gaze between Kellan and me, like she knew everything that had been going on with Kellan—in the gossip-verse, at least. By the eager expression
on her face, it was clear that seeing me in the studio at Kellan’s side, but not being able to say anything about it, had been driving her crazy; she was hoping for some answers. And she
wasn’t going to be disappointed.

She cautiously indicated me. “I can imagine things have been . . . rough . . . lately?”

She flicked a glance at Tory, who was already giving the DJs a “cut” gesture. Kellan looked over at Tory, held a finger up to her, then glanced back at the DJ. “I need to clear
the air about a few things. I know we were supposed to perform for you today, but I would like to do an interview instead. Do you mind?” Every radio person in the room shook their head.
Kellan pointed at me. “Can she get some headphones?”

Several people jumped at once to get me some, but, seeing our resolve and knowing what we were doing, Evan handed me his. With trembling fingers, I took them, thanked him, and put them on. God,
I was going to throw up.

Tory stepped forward and leaned into Kellan’s side. Pulling back his headphones, she heatedly told him something. I couldn’t tell what she was saying, but I had a feeling it was a
warning to shut the hell up. Kellan shook his head and snapped, “No! I won’t be quiet. I’m done with this.” I thought he might shove her away, but instead, he just turned
back to the DJs and ignored her. Tory was livid. Pulling out her phone, she darted from the room. I figured Nick would be calling us in about thirty seconds.