18

Hailey

The walkway leading to my front entrance felt like a mile long. Christian held me by the waist as we walked to the door. I wasn't sure if my exhaustion was due to the hit on the head or the mental stress this stalker was putting me through. What was the point of luring me to the empty restaurant? Was it just to mess with my head? Did he have plans to torture me later? Or was there another reason I just couldn't think of?

"Hailey!" My mother ran to me as soon as Christian opened the door. "Thank goodness. I was so worried about you."

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and squeezed. I'd kept it together until now, but when my mother sobbed into my hair, I'd lost control of the reins. Tears fell down my cheeks, and I cried like a baby on my mother's shoulder.

She wiped them away and held my face between her hands. "Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

I nodded. "I'm all right. Just a bump on the head."

She pulled me back into her arms and I wiped away the last of my tears. I wouldn't shed another for that bastard. Turning to Christian, I asked, "What are we going to do now?"

He crossed his arms. "I'm going to find him. I promise you that."

His jaw clenched and his eyes hardened. I knew he was holding back from saying more. I just felt it in my chest. "What can I do to help?"

He rubbed his lip. "I need you, Anne, to compile a list of everyone who works directly with you. Someone got a recording of your voice and used it to lure Hailey."

Anne looked up, thinking. "I don't have a long list. There's just Daryl and my assistant Mark."

"I've never met Mark. Where is he now?"

"He works from home. He's not a full-time employee. He handles my monthly bookkeeping, books my flights and cars, things like that."

Christian handed my mother a notepad. "I need you to write down his number, and home address, and describe the last few meetings you've had with him."

My mother took the notepad from Christian, sat down on the couch, and began to write.

"What about me?" I asked.

He kissed my forehead. "I need you to rest."

"That's it?"

"Yup."

"I can't sit and do nothing while someone is trying to hurt me."

"That's why you hired me."

"Come on, Christian. There's got to be something I can do."

He stared at me, and after a few minutes, he crossed his arms and nodded. "You're going to write your next song and make it your best one yet. Take all the emotions you're feeling now and pour them into your music because he's not going to win. He wants to stop you and you're not going to let him. You got that?"

His words ignited a spark inside of me. My breathing grew rapidly as I absorbed everything he had said. He was right. I wouldn't let that bastard stop me. The guy in the coffee shop wanted to stop me. Those online trolls wanted to insult me, and that bastard wanted to scare me. But I would just keep on writing and performing.

I rose on my toes, held his cheeks in my hands, and kissed Christian with all the passion I felt for him. "Thank you. That's exactly what I will do."

I turned, picked up my guitar, and hummed the last melody I'd been working on. But it felt too lighthearted. Instead, I went to my room, picked up the electric guitar, and plugged it into the amp. I hadn't played the electric guitar since my angry teenage years. I ripped down the chords and held the note, letting it vibrate through my fingers and throughout the room. I hit a particularly high note and felt it deep in my chest. I plucked at the chords until tears streamed down my face. There were no lyrics yet but that was the sound of my next hit. I just knew it. I felt it in the way my pulse hummed after I hit the last note.

I wiped my face with the bottom of my band T-shirt and wrote down the melody. I played it again, changing a few chords here and there, fine-tuning the chorus.

I worked on the lyrics next.

You think you can hurt me.

You think you can scare me.

You don't know me.

You don't know anything about me.

Take my house.

Take my car.

Take them all, but you can never take this away from me.

I am no microphone.

I am no overtone.

I am Hailey Jones.

I dropped the pencil and stared at the words. My heart swelled, and I knew those were the lyrics. I wouldn't change them because they were me.

I showered, put on my pajamas, and crawled into bed.

In the middle of the night, Christian laid down next to me and pulled me close to his chest. My heart beat loudly and it echoed the earlier tune in my head. He was right. What happened today wouldn't stop me, it would only make me stronger.

***

The next day when I plugged in my electric guitar into the amp inside Tessa's studio, she narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing, Hailey?" She chewed her gum loudly as she crossed her arms.

"I want you to listen to something I worked on last night. You need to keep an open mind about this."

"My mind is as open as a 24/7 food joint."

I shook my head and laughed at her analogy. I checked the distortion on the amp and lowered it. I didn't want to freak Tessa out too much.

I strummed down on the guitar and nodded as I played the introduction. Sticking my chin closer to the microphone, I belted out the lyrics. I sang and played louder than I usually did, but it felt damn good.

I held the last note with my pick and raised the guitar handle in pure rock ‘n ‘roll fashion.

Inhaling a deep breath, I looked up at Tessa in the booth. Her face was blank, completely void of any emotion.

Uh oh.

"What do you think?"

"Ah, it's different."

"Yes. I know. But did you like it?"

Tessa crossed her arms and stared at the control in front of her.

"Tess—"

She held up her hand, and I stopped talking. She was in a zone. I recognized that look.

She turned some knobs and after a few minutes, she said, "Try it again, except I want you to remove the distortion and raise the key one semitone higher."

"All right." I adjusted the amp and sang the song again. While I played, Tessa worked on the controls.

When I finished the song the second time, Tessa nodded her head and waved for me to come back inside the control room. "I want you to hear this."

I crossed my arms and listened. Tessa intertwined softer synth pads with my electric guitar, giving the song a more pop feeling. "I like it," I said.

She smiled. "Me, too."

Switching on a dial, she added, "Try it again, but hold your notes a little longer. I think it will work better."

I trusted Tessa, and I trusted the song. "Yeah, I think that will work nicely."

Tessa and I fine-tuned the melody and the lyrics until we were both grinning by the end. "That's it, girl. That's the one."

I inhaled and let all my frustrations and fears go. It felt good doing something with those emotions, something that made me feel stronger.

While I was packing up my guitar, Sam and Ingrid walked into the room. "Hailey, how are you doing? We heard what happened last night."

"You did? Who told you?"

"Your mother, of course. She's very worried about you. Is there anything we can do?"

"Should we post about it on social?" asked Ingrid.

"No," I snapped. "I don't want to post about it on social. Why would I do that?"

Ingrid shrugged. "I thought people would want to know."

"Well, I don't want people to know."

Sam patted Ingrid on the shoulder and I immediately regretted snapping at the girl. "I'm sorry, Ingrid. It's just that what happened yesterday was traumatic and I don't want to have strangers discussing it, especially people who haven't had my back in the past."

She pursed her lips and smiled. "I get it." But her tone told me she didn't, really.

"Well, there is something else we need to discuss. Now that the hashtag ‘Hailey is a cheat' is no longer trending, we want to smooth things over with Kendra."

"Yes, I think that's a great idea," I said to Sam. "I think we should meet face to face. It's much more personal that way."

"Mmm…" started Ingrid. "I don't think that will work."

"Why not?" asked Sam.

"Kendra said the next time she saw your face, she would mess it up."

I blinked. Wow. I hadn't realized things had gotten that bad. "Enough is enough. I'm going to message Kendra directly and explain everything to her."

I grabbed my phone and opened one of my social media apps.

"You're going to do that now?" asked Ingrid, disbelief plain in her voice.

"Yep."

I tried logging into my account, but I'd forgotten my password. "Shit. What's the password again?"

"Hailey, let us take care of this for you. I'll speak to Kendra's manager and publicist. It's probably better than continuing this feud online."

"Fine. But I want to take care of this ASAP. I want you to reach out today, and I want to meet with Kendra this week."

Sam held up her hands. "All right, all right. You're asking for miracles, but I'll do it."

I smiled. "Thank you, Sam."

We walked out of the studio and Christian waited for me with the car parked just in front of the door. "I'd like to talk to Frankie. Can you take me there?"

Christian's eyes narrowed. "Yeah. I think that's a great idea. Let's pay him a visit."

I giggled. "That gave me some ‘underworld boss' vibes."

Christian didn't share my enthusiasm, and when he pulled up in front of Frankie's office, he turned off the engine and faced me. "I don't trust the guy, Hailey. There's something off about him."

"He's been a good manager to me. Other than the Trey setup, he hasn't guided me in the wrong direction. I owe a lot of my breakout year to him. He has good connections and ambition."

"Yeah. It's those connections I'm worried about. As long as his ambition includes keeping you safe."

I nodded and got out of the car.

Frankie shared an office with other industry professionals. There were talent scouts, managers, and even some movie producers who rented space in the same building. He credited his great network to the office.

The receptionist recognized me and buzzed me through the glass doors. Frankie stood from his desk and dusted off his shirt. "Hailey, hey, I wasn't expecting you."

He wiped his palms along the side of his pants before ushering me to sit in a chair in front of his desk. "What brings you here?"

Frankie sucked on his front teeth and although he clasped his hands on his desk in front of him, they shook. His whole body vibrated, and I felt jittery just watching him.

Christian cleared his throat. He stood at the door, deciding to stand rather than sit next to me. "How did you get that cut on your face?" he asked.

Frankie rubbed the red line that stretched from his ear down to his jaw. "Oh. I cut myself shaving."

His gaze danced between mine and Christian's behind me.

Christian's voice deepened. "Did you shave with a piece of glass? It looks pretty deep."

He laughed nervously. "Of course, not." He cleared his throat. "What's going on, Hailey?"

"Well, I wanted to see you because Tessa and I are almost finished with the second album. It's really good, Frankie."

He smiled, and it brightened his whole demeanor. "That's great, Hailey. I think with two albums, you should consider going on tour. I know you've hesitated in the past because arenas scare you, but this is the next logical step for you."

The thought of tens of thousands of people watching me on stage made me want to vomit. My stomach turned, and I wrapped my arms around myself. "I know," I sighed. "I've got to do it. I think I should talk to a professional to get over my stage fright."

"I can help you find someone."

Frankie's left eye started twitching. "Are you okay, Frankie? You don't look so good."

Frankie paled further at my inquiry, but he slapped on a smile. "Yeah. I'm fine, Hailey. Don't worry about me. I'm going to work on setting up some interviews and gigs for you to get people excited about the new album."

"Thanks, Frankie." I stood, feeling in my gut that Frankie was uncomfortable with me here right now. Just before I left, I turned and said, "Oh, before I forget. Sam is going to set up a meeting between me and Kendra. We're going to squash this ridiculous feud."

"Good idea. It's best to do that before someone breathes new life into it again."

I groaned at the thought, but waved at Frankie. "Take care, Frankie."

"Thanks, Hailey." He pressed his lips together. "You, too."

I walked past Christian, whose stare could drill nails into Frankie's eyes. No wonder the poor guy was so nervous. "You were a little intimidating back there," I said when he started the car.

"That's in my job description, Hailey. I'm not your PR person. I'm there to intimate anyone looking to hurt you."

"Well, you don't have to pass those vibes along to the people who work for me."

"Yes. I do. It's usually someone close to you that wants to hurt you. I'll say it again, I don't trust the guy. There's something off about him."

I shook my head. Frankie had only started acting strangely since Christian came into the picture. "I think you're just making him nervous."

"Good."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. This conversation was heading nowhere. We weren't arguing, but I was a little peeved at him.

I turned to face him. "Is this our first fight?" I asked.

He looked at me with his brow furrowed. "What? You think we're fighting?"

"I don't know. I'm a little upset with how you're treating Frankie and you're not taking what I say seriously."

Christian pulled the car over and turned off the engine.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Having our first fight."

"Oh."

He smiled. "I love that we're talking about this. We're not always going to agree on everything. And yes, I'm going to do or say something that will piss you off. This may even happen several times a day. But if you're open and honest with me about how you feel, we'll talk it through until we both feel good about it. Deal?"

"I have no problem telling you when you piss me off."

He chuckled. "I had no doubt." Then, he added, "I'll lay off Frankie if it makes you feel better. But I will keep my eye on him."

"Thank you." I smiled. "I like how we fight."

Then he crossed his arms and tilted his head. "How would you feel if I told you something that bothers me?"

Huh.

"I don't know. Why don't you try it and we'll both find out."

He nodded and inhaled a large breath and released it slowly. "I'm a jealous man, Hailey."

"Okay. What does that mean, exactly?"

He arched his brow. "When you were with Trey, you went dancing with Victor. I know he's your dance instructor, but I don't want you bumping and grinding with anyone else but me. If you're going to grind those hips, I want you to grind them on me."

I blinked.

"How does that make you feel? Smothered? Uncomfortable? I want you to tell me the truth. I'm being very honest with you right now."

I licked my lips, trying to find the right words. "Well. My first instinct was to say, ‘You don't trust me', and that I would never do anything to disrespect you. But, when I turn the tables around, I wouldn't want you dancing and grinding with another woman, either. So, yeah, I think that's fair play for both of us."

He grinned. "Good."

Okay, that wasn't too bad. "Is there anything else?"

"Yeah," he lowered his voice. "I want you in my bed every night, wearing nothing but a smile."

My lips twitched. "Well, that sounds like a ‘you' problem."

He raised his chin. "What do you mean?"

"The way I see it, the onus is on you to put a smile on my face."

He bit his bottom lip. "It will be my pleasure, sweetheart."

He kissed me and I fought back a smile already.