Reckless (Thoughtless, #3)(86)

Kellan shoved the phone back in his pocket and stormed forward. Since he was still holding tight to me, I had no choice but to follow him. I didn’t want to miss this anyway. Nick couldn’t do this. He didn’t own Kellan. He couldn’t just dictate where he went and who he went with. That seemed completely out of line to me, and way beyond the scope of Kellan’s contract.

There were a few rooms along the hall that people were stumbling into and out of. But there was only one room with a man standing in front of it, arms crossed over his chest. Kellan headed straight for that room. The man glanced at Kellan coming then rapped on the door behind him. “He’s here.”

Nick must have responded to the man because the guy opened the door for us right as we got there. Kellan didn’t even look at the bodyguard as he barged through the door and strode into what appeared to be an office for the theater. Nick was patiently waiting for Kellan behind a desk littered with paperwork. “Why the hell did you pull us from the tour?”

Nick smiled at us in a perfectly calm and composed way. It irritated me. Indicating a couple of chairs to our left, he said, “Why don’t you have a seat?” I started to walk over to one, but Kellan held my hand tight and snapped, “I’m not sitting, and I’m not leaving Justin’s tour.”

Nick sighed and placed his hands in his lap. “You seem to be under the impression that you have a choice on the matter. You don’t. I decide where the acts play, and who they play with.” He splayed his hands. “Now, I’m usually a very flexible man, and I strive to give my artists as much free range as possible.” I snorted at that, and Nick shot me a hard glance. “But in some cases,” he continued, “when my talent is being wholly underrepresented, I feel the need—no, I feel it’s my duty—to step in and make things right.”

Standing, he casually tucked his hands in the pockets of his slacks and strutted our way. His demeanor was laid-back, but yet somehow also intimidating. “The hard fact here is that you’re too big of an act. You belong in stadiums. It’s a waste of our money and a waste of your talent for you to be playing anything smaller. And I’m not a man to waste . . . anything.”

Sitting on the edge of the desk, he shrugged his shoulders. “Sienna’s tour is where you belong. That was made quite clear to me after that duet she performed on stage with you. It’s magic whenever you two are together, and we’re going to capitalize on that magic.”

Kellan inhaled a deep breath, then stated, “No. I’m staying.”

Nick continued like he hadn’t just spoken. “Sienna’s been informed, and she’s graciously made room for you. Your stuff is being moved over tonight, which I’m assuming you already know. A car will be picking you up and taking you to the airport the minute your set is over. When you arrive in L.A. a limo will be waiting, courtesy of Ms. Sexton.”

Releasing my hand, Kellan crossed his arms over his chest. “I said we’re staying.”

Nick slowly stood up. He was shorter than Kellan, but that didn’t seem to matter. “And I said you didn’t have a choice. If you read your contract, like you said you did, then you should know that the label has final say over your schedule. If we want to pull you from one tour and put you on another, we will. If we want to send you on an over-fifty singles cruise in Alaska, we will. And you’ll go, because, what you still don’t seem to grasp is . . .” Standing toe to toe with Kellan, he leaned in like he was telling him a secret. “We own you.”

When Nick pulled away, he patted Kellan’s arm. “And besides, you told me, and I do believe this is a direct quote, ‘I will help you promote the album in any way I can . . . within reason.’” He sniffed and straightened his jacket. “I think asking you to perform in the hottest concert tour on earth is very . . . reasonable.” He lifted a brow. “Don’t you?”

There was nothing Kellan could say to that. Nick had him and Nick knew he had him. He’d always known it. That’s why there hadn’t been a bigger pissing match the last time Kellan had stood up to him. Nick had been in control all along.

Kellan was trembling when Nick left the room. I could see the thick veins along the sides of his neck and knew he was absolutely livid. Silently standing next to him, I gave him a minute to calm down. It didn’t seem to help. Letting out a frustrated grunt, Kellan snatched one of the chairs beside us and flung it at the wall; it left a couple of circular dent marks in the drywall.

I flinched, then tentatively put a hand on his arm. “It will be okay, Kellan.”

He snapped his head to me. “I thought I was done being manipulated, but every turn I take another string gets pulled.”

I nodded as I cupped his cheek. His skin was warm, and his eyes were fiery. And damn if it wasn’t attractive as hell. “I know this sucks. Believe me, I know. But . . . Nick may actually have a point.”

Kellan furrowed his brow, but his anger dissipated a little. “What do you mean?”

Glad that he was calming down, I laced my arms around his neck. “As much as I love Justin and the guys, you are bigger than them. I mean, you’ve already replaced them as the closing act. You do belong in a stadium.” Smiling, I threaded my fingers through his hair. “And Staples Center, Kellan. That’s . . . as large as it gets.”

Kellan frowned at me. “I like small.” A delightful curve appeared on his mouth. “I like intimate.”