She didn’t struggle when someone grabbed her and held her still. It was over. Her dreams. Her relationship with Logan. Her life. Over.
Her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the ground, sobbing for all she’d lost against the unforgiving asphalt beneath her quaking body.
Thirty-Two
Logan leaned his forehead against the inside of the bus door and swallowed against the lump of despair strangling him. He couldn’t hear Toni’s words as she tried to yell through the reinforced steel, but he could hear the desperation in her tone. How could she have betrayed them all this way? Had she played him a fool the entire time, like some sort of spy who used sex to get a man to spill his deepest secrets? No, she was too honest. Too sweet. Too gentle to do anything so underhanded.
But the evidence was on the page. Toni was the only person outside of the band who knew all the stories that had been printed. It couldn’t be a coincidence that they’d all been released in the same tabloid at the same time. What he didn’t understand was why she’d do it. She never seemed desperate for cash. Was she trying to earn enough money to get out from under her mother’s thumb?
“She should be glad Butch was the one who kicked her ass off the bus,” Reagan railed. “I probably would have killed her.”
“You might as well settle down,” Max said. “What’s done is done.”
“Does anyone know a good attorney? I’m going to sue her for libel.”
Logan understood that Reagan was upset. Her story was the only one that was current. Everyone else’s was something they’d had years to process. But she was overreacting. Did she really expect to keep her relationship with Trey Mills and Ethan Conner a secret forever?
“You can’t sue for libel unless malicious lies are printed,” Logan said, shoving off the door and climbing the steps. “Everything in that article was true.”
“I can’t believe you’re defending her!” Reagan yelled. “She ratted you out too.”
“I’m not defending her, just saving you time. You’d never win a libel case. You can ask Jessica Chase if you don’t believe me. She’s a lawyer, you know.”
“You don’t want to take this to court,” Dare said. “If you think this little article has exposed your relationship with my brother, imagine the stink a full-blown trial would create.”
Reagan crossed her arms over her chest and flopped into a chair. “What am I going to do?”
“Own up to your relationship,” Dare said. “You’re not doing yourself any favors by trying to hide it.”
“People won’t understand. They’ll think I’m some sort of deviant just because I’m in love with two men.”
“I agree with Dare,” Steve said. “People blow secrets all out of proportion, and then after the truth comes out, the gossip quickly dies down.”
“I can’t out our relationship. My father will kill me.”
“And if he reads the tabloids?” Dare asked.
“I’ll just deny everything.”
Dare shook his head. Logan sat beside him on the sofa, his stomach roiling with so much turmoil, he feared he’d be sick.
“Did Toni say why she did it?” Logan asked. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that she’d sold their souls to the tabloids. It simply didn’t seem like something she would do. Maybe if he knew why she’d stooped to such a low level, he could find a reason to forgive her. Because damn it all, he couldn’t imagine spending the next five minutes, much less the rest of his life, without her.
“Of course she didn’t say why,” Reagan snapped. “The lying little bitch denied everything.”
“She denied it?”
Logan had initially felt too betrayed to even want to hear Toni’s side of the story, but now that the dust had settled, he was wishing he’d taken a moment to hear her out. She’d obviously been upset outside the stadium. He’d assumed it was because she’d been caught and subsequently fired.
“Yeah, she was going on about some journal she’d misplaced,” Steve said, flicking his wrist dismissively.
“Her journal?” Logan’s breath caught. She’d talked about losing her personal journal over a week before. He’d even gotten her a new one to replace it. “She was upset when it went missing. Shit, she didn’t sell any of us out. Someone took or found her journal and they sold us out.” A weight lifted from his heavy heart as he realized he hadn’t misjudged her character. Toni was the woman he’d fallen in love with, not some poser just trying to get the inside scoop on the band.
He had to call her. He slid his hand into the pocket where he usually kept his cellphone, only to find it missing. He checked his other pocket. Not there either. Shit! Of all the times to be without his phone.
“Has anyone seen my phone?” he asked, rising from the sofa to head for his bunk. Maybe he’d left it there when he’d changed before the concert.
“You are not calling her.” Reagan stepped into his path and placed both hands on his chest.
“Yeah, I am. I can’t even imagine how hurt and confused and upset she is right now.” He needed to tell her everything was going to be all right. That he still loved her. That they had to work things out because she was a necessity to his very existence.
“How hurt and upset she is? She betrayed you Logan,” Reagan said. “She betrayed all of us. You’ve known her a couple of weeks. How long have you known the members of your band?”
“Bros before hos,” Steve joked, throwing up a pair of devil horns.
Logan scowled. “Toni is not a ho. She’s the love of my life. And I’m not going to lose her over some stupid tabloid bullshit.” He grabbed Reagan by both arms and shook her, hoping to drive his point home. “This is the price you pay for fame, Reagan. Your private life is no longer private. The sooner you get used to it, the better off you’ll be. I know you’re pissed off, but let it go and move on. Your life isn’t over because the world now knows you fuck two gay guys. They might think you’re a slut, but so what? There are far worse things you could be.”
Reagan’s jaw dropped. Logan released her and scarcely felt her half-assed slap to his face. He turned back to his bunk. “Where’s my goddamned phone!” he yelled, ripping the bedding from his mattress and shaking it before throwing it on the floor. The phone wasn’t under his pillow or beneath the mattress. He dug through the drawer under his bed, thinking maybe it had fallen in with his clean clothes.
“Dude, you need to calm down,” Steve said.
“I’m not going to fucking calm down. What I need is my goddamned phone.”
“Maybe it’s in the back,” Max suggested, grabbing Logan’s bedding off the floor and shoving it back into the empty bunk.
And then Logan heard Toni’s ringtone—Kelis’s “Milkshake”—playing from the lounge. She was calling him! He sprinted down the corridor, expecting to see his phone resting on the coffee table, but it wasn’t there. And neither were Toni’s familiar belongings. He didn’t have time to dwell on the emptiness that barren sight opened in his chest; he had a phone to find. He followed the sound toward the far end of the sectional, eyes closed and head cocked to one side as he listened for direction. The phone stopped ringing, and his heart sank. No matter. It was somewhere in this room. Sofa cushions and pillows went flying in all directions. He shoved his hand into the crack between the sectional’s back and seat, finding a few coins, a cheese curl older than Keith Richards, and a few things he didn’t want to identify, but no phone. He dropped onto his belly and peered under the sectional, hoping it hadn’t slipped too far under there. He’d never get it out.
Face pressed to the carpet, he yelled, “Someone call my phone.”
“Should we put him out of his misery?” Steve asked from the doorway.
“I don’t know,” Max said. “It’s pretty funny, if you ask me.”
“What’s funny?” Logan sat up and pushed his wayward curls out of his face to glare at his comedian bandmates who had congregated in the doorway. All except Reagan. After what he’d said to her, Reagan would likely never speak to him again, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.