Halo (Fallen Angel, #1)(22)

“Viper. We have to at least try. And if we fail, we fail. We move on.”

I ran a hand through my hair, every fiber in my body resistant toward this idea, even though it was the only thing we really could do at this stage, or MGA would drop our asses.

“Are you with us?” Killian asked. The “us” didn’t escape my attention, because he already knew the other guys’ decisions without having to ask.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” I said, turning around to face him.

“You always have a choice.”

“What, quit?” With a snort, I glanced at Jagger and Slade, who were watching us with caution. They really thought I’d walk? Because of this? “I’m not a fucking quitter. But I’m not promising anything, either. Can I go now?” I said, then raised the bottle between us. “I’d really like to finish this in private.”

Killian nodded, and when I pulled open the door, he held it there and turned back to Slade and Jagger. “How ’bout you two get the hell out too? I’m done for the night, and neither of you are going to be able to help me forget myself for a few hours.”

Knowing Killian could have one, two—hell, five—men up at his hotel suite within thirty minutes, despite what I’d said earlier, I threw a wave in his direction and meandered off down the hall.

I bypassed the door to my suite, not feeling like going in there and sitting in a silent room by myself, and instead took the elevator down to the lobby bar. I knew it was late, but it was Friday night—maybe there’d be stragglers and I could round up another drink.

I made my way to the doors of the bar, and when I noticed them shut, I was about to chalk it up to the perfect end to my shit-tastic day. But as I went to turn away, the faint sound of a piano caught my attention and had my feet rounding back so I could move closer. With the bottle in one hand down by my leg, I reached out with my other to see if the door was unlocked, and when the door pulled back, I stepped inside.

The bar was empty. There were no staff, no customers, completely and utterly empty. But the further I walked inside, the louder the music became, until I rounded a large pillar and my feet came to an abrupt halt.

Sitting at the baby grand piano with his head bent down over the keys was Halo. The softly glowing security lights were the only ones on in the bar right then, but I’d know those blond curls anywhere.

His almost-finished bottle of alcohol from earlier sat on the top of the piano, as his fingers flew across the keys, and he seemed oblivious to the rest of the world as he swayed in time to the music.

My feet moved of their own accord then, drawing me closer. The music he was playing was unlike anything I’d heard before. It was inspired and passionate, and, not wanting to interrupt this moment he was having, I stood as still as I possibly could, completely and utterly blown away by the sheer talent pouring out of Halo.

While we’d all been upstairs licking our wounds and drinking ourselves into a state of numbness, Halo had been down here losing himself in the one thing that should’ve brought all of us solace—his music.

Feeling as though I were intruding on something that was highly personal, I slowly backed out of the bar area to the door, my eyes not leaving Halo as he continued to play. He was mesmerizing, and I couldn’t help but think that if the rest of the world would give him a chance, if they got to see him like this, to hear him play like this, there’d be no way they’d ever boo him off a damn stage again.





Fifteen





Halo





AFTER HAVING A few days to cool off, Killian called for a band meeting at his place.

I knew what that meant—I was out.

It wasn’t something they’d want to do over the phone, so inviting me over, getting us all together so they could break it to me that I was no longer needed, was the most logical way. And even though my head knew what was coming, most of me stayed firmly in denial.

I took a spot on one of the leather couches in Killian’s great room, where the rest of the band had gathered. The furniture had been moved into a semicircle so we could all face each other.

Great. Bring on the firing.

Killian looked around the room, nodding, and then rubbed his hands together. “Since we’re all here, we can get started.”

Yes, please make it quick and as painless as possible, I thought, as I shifted on the couch.

“We can all agree that what happened last weekend was a total shitfest,” Killian said. Curses rang out, everyone nodding in agreement. “So the question is now, what the hell do we do about it?”

Here it was. I braced myself for impact.

“It’s fairly obvious that Halo isn’t the right frontman for TBD—”

My stomach dropped.

“But it’s also apparent that unless Trent comes running through that door right now, no one’s going to be who the fans want.”

“Not like we’d take his fucking ass back anyway,” Viper muttered, as the others nodded.

“Before we discuss options, I need to know if we’re all in this. Whatever direction we go, we go together.” Killian looked around the room, and when his eyes landed on me, he said, “So? You in this with us?”

My brows knitted together as I tried to understand what he was asking me. “So…hold up. You’re not firing me?”