Destroyed (Lost in Oblivion, #3)(66)

They got out the side door to find Lila pacing. “I don’t give a shit, Robert. I need to talk to Donovan. Unless he’s in with the President of the United States, he’s going to want to take this goddamn call.”

Simon’s eyebrows skyrocketed. Yeah. Not good.

“What the hell?” Nick asked under his breath.

“Yes, I’ll hold.” Her voice was part seething, part Dragon Lady. She looked over at them. “I have to talk to Donovan first. Why don’t you guys go back in?”

Simon crossed his arms. “We’re thinking that has something to do with that lovely broadcast.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “It does, but I don’t want you to get bent out of shape unless it’s absolutely necessary. You have a show to worry about in two days.”

“What we’re making up in our heads is going to be far worse,” Nick said.

“Probably not.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t know what I can come up with.”

She held up a finger. “Yes, I’m here. Hi, Donovan.” She sighed. “You got one, too.” She made a noncommittal sound and resumed her pacing. “Is there any strength in the claim?”

“What claim?” Simon tipped his head back. “Oh, shit.”

“He wouldn’t.” Nick curled his fingers into fists. “That f*ck. He’s never written a lyric in his goddamn life.”

Lila turned around to him and held her phone out. “Donovan, can you hear me?”

“Yes.” The British voice came across the speakers of her iPhone.

“Never?” she asked.

“No.” Nick raised his voice. “In the beginning, Simon and I wrote the songs and Deak did the composition at the end. Snake just showed up for skins. Even the one demo we did, I did the drums because he was too wrecked.”

Lila’s slim golden brow rose. “Good. That’s good.”

“I’ll have my lawyers look this over and contact you in a few hours.”

“Thanks, Donovan.”

“Guys? Don’t get riled up. This happens. The moment any artist gains momentum, there’s always someone in their past that tries to come up and make trouble. They always want their payday.”

“Jesus f*ck,” Simon muttered.

“Accurately offensive,” Donovan said smoothly. “I’ll be in touch.”

Lila tucked her phone back into her blazer pocket. “Donovan’s right. We just have to get ahead of this.”

“Ahead of what exactly?”

“William—”

“Snake,” they both corrected.

She rolled her eyes. “How am I supposed to call anyone by that name?”

Nick shrugged. “Evidently there was good reason for the nickname.”

“Oh God.” Her nose wrinkled.

“Yes, that was yelled out a few times,” Simon said.

She rubbed two fingers between her brows. “Look, Snake is trying to get a payday on three of the songs that were recorded on the Burn EP.”

“He really is high,” Nick said, wonder in his voice.

“He probably doesn’t have a leg to stand on if what you say is true.”

“Of course it is,” Nick snapped.

She held up a hand. “Nicholas, please. I’m sure you’re correct, but when it comes to songs things can get tricky. Did you guys ever copyright your lyrics?”

“Lila, we could barely afford Spaghetti-O’s when we were first starting out.”

She nodded. “All right. Donovan is going to check into the claim and see if it has a chance in court. If so, we might have to settle—”

“No goddamn way,” Nick said. “He’s got no claim on our songs.”

“Singing a bit of a different tune now, aren’t you? Weren’t you the one that wanted Snake back in the band?”

“There’s a difference between loyalty and fact. We loved that idiot and he was our boy for a long damn time. But when he went away for mandatory rehab, things fell apart. I just didn’t want to see it then.”

“We didn’t want to see it,” Simon agreed. “We had no idea what a real band was until Gray and Jazz joined up.”

“Is that true?”

Simon and Nick both turned around at Jazz’s voice. Nick grunted as Jazz flew into his arms and knocked him back a step.

He sighed. “Yeah, Pix. You’re stuck with us.”

Jazz looped her arms around Nick’s waist and looked up at him. “Okay, you’re forgiven.”

“Forgiven for what?”

“For that bullshit you pulled last year. You’re forgiven.” Fat tears dripped down her cheeks.

“Aw, man. Don’t turn on the waterworks, Jazz.” Nick tried to step out of her hug, but she held on tighter and pressed her cheek to his chest.

Nick patted her arm helplessly, giving Simon a look of pure panic. Nicky hated pure emotion coming at him. He didn’t know what to do with it.

“All right, Pix,” Simon said. “Let’s get you back inside.”

“What’s going on?”

“Lila’s taking care of it.”

“That’s not an answer,” she said and stepped back from Nick.