Mended (Connections, #3)(61)

When the song ends, the crowd explodes. Whistles, cheers, and yells fill the air as she walks offstage toward me. Before she reaches me, Ninja steps between us. Her demeanor changes as she approaches. “Johnny, Damon said not to let him within five feet of me. But he didn’t say we couldn’t talk. I need to discuss our upcoming shows. I’m sure Damon would never jeopardize the performance.”

I’m actually impressed at the way she turns the charm on and works him. Shit, did she do that to me? No. Now I’m only second-guessing myself. My mind is so f*cked right now.

Ninja nods at her. Is he hot for her? I’m going to kill him right after I kill Damon Wolf. He steps back and I stay where I am. I consider grabbing her and making a run for it, but what good would that do. She’s married to the bastard.

In a low whisper she says, “Leave this alone, Xander. Leave us alone. I wanted to marry him. He makes me happy.”

Fury courses through me. My pulse races and my blood pounds.

“Why are you doing this?” I practically spit out the words, angry, repulsed.

“I’m not doing anything. Just move on. You’ve done it before. You can do it again.”

“Bravo. Bravo,” the bastard’s voice calls from behind me.

I turn around. I want to rip him into a thousand pieces and let him spend his days putting himself back together.

“Since we’re all here now, you’ll save me the time of having to call you tomorrow. Look, Ivy doesn’t need you to manage her—that’s my job,” he says, and his words rock my body with a jealousy I’ve never felt before.

Once I can focus again, I look straight at him and say, “I manage the band and she’s in the band, dickface.”

Ivy moves to stand next to him and he tries to grab her hand. If that happens, I know I’ll lose all control. Thank f*ck she pulls her hand away. But she’s still standing beside him.

“Listen. Let’s make this simple. I see it like this. Your whole band is Ivy. Keep your name for now, since there’s less than six weeks left on the tour. But you need to disappear. I’ll give you until after Bristow to arrange it. We don’t need you around causing trouble and chaos. This is our honeymoon after all,” he says, this time wrapping his arm around her waist.

I rip my gaze from him in time to see the tears escaping her eyes, but I can’t feel anything right now but hatred. I fight the urge to tell them both to f*ck off. I glare at her as she frees her body of any contact with him. I don’t want to leave, but I have to. I can’t take it. I can’t take his grimy hands on her. I can’t even think about his hands on her. I inch a step toward him, ready to tear his wagging tongue right out of his mouth, but the ninja is up my ass within a nanosecond. Like I didn’t see that coming. I shrug my shoulders and push past them both. I’ve had enough of this. Turning around, I walk toward the door. When I reach it, I punch it hard, wishing it were his face. The pain pulses through me and it feels like such a relief.





CHAPTER 15


Mirrors

Ivy

My ravaged eyes stare back at me in the bathroom mirror of the ridiculously glamorous tour bus. With a built-in coffeemaker, plush sofas, an enormously large shower, and even a vanity in the bathroom—it really is over the top. Damon insists we remain here and not in a hotel even though we’re not traveling for a couple of days. I’m sure he’s afraid I won’t keep my end of the bargain if I spend too much time with the band, too much time with Xander. But what I don’t think he really gets is that it’s my overwhelming love for Xander that pushed me to make this decision—my primal instinct to protect him from getting hurt, not my need for money.

Holding the can of spray near my hair, I suddenly feel faint. The memory of his piercing dark eyes fades in and out and I know I should sit down and put my head between my knees. But I don’t want to appear weak. I take a deep breath, spray my hair, and let the breath go. I wish I were stronger than I am—to stand up to Damon, but I can’t. Instead I close my eyes, hating myself. Hating myself for knowing him, for marrying him, for hurting the only man who understands me . . . who loves me for me.

Grinning, maybe gloating, Damon watches me put my red lipstick on. “Let’s go,” he says, snapping his fingers. “You’re going to be late and I flew her all the way here just to interview you so we could put some hype behind these performances. Next week you’ll meet with Mara and I’ll make sure it’s a double blast—Sound Music and Sound Entertainment together will really garner some attention.”

I open my eyes and finish putting my makeup on, ignoring how his gaze rolls down my body. First down the front through my reflection in the mirror and then down my backside. He insisted I wear what he picked out—a push-up bra, a low-cut white cowl neck blouse that just skims the top of my breasts, tight skinny jeans, red high-heeled sandals, and a huge matching flower in my hair. He wants to take publicity photos later, but I can’t help but feel like he’s getting off on playing dress-up and it revolts me. It reminds me of how my mother insisted on dressing me whenever I went on auditions. I like to wear sexy outfits, but only because I want to, not because someone else wants me to.

“Please don’t stare.” My voice pulses with hatred.

“Angel, I’ve always enjoyed the way you look. That will never change. You’re a beauty. But I’d like it if you’d watch the way you speak to me. I’ve treated you with respect and I’d like the same. In fact, I think I’ve been very understanding. I’ve let you have your own room and although I am your husband, I haven’t insisted that I share your bed, not even on our wedding night. I’m hoping our business transaction helps us find our way back to each other, but if it doesn’t in six months, you’ll be free of me.”