Jace (Kings of Country 1)

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Luke said they’d mentioned a contract extension.” He was still staring, still searching.

Krystal tore her gaze from his. He couldn’t know how she felt. He’d stay. Out of obligation if nothing else. He was wired that way.

“What does Heather say?” Emmy Lou reached across and took a sip of Krystal’s water.

“She’s not too happy about losing visitation rights to Clementine.” He nodded. “But I guess I should think about it some more. If you think it’s a good idea—”

“It’s a smart career move.” Krystal nodded, her fingers slowly tearing the label from her water bottle. “As long as you have studio time worked into your contract, nothing should stop you.”

“Maybe.” Jace shrugged. “Up for working on that song now?”

She nodded. How could she say no? It was a great song. She hadn’t seen much room for improvement. But now, she wasn’t going to say no to time with Jace. She couldn’t.

The tour had eight more performances. Eight. Then Jace would be gone.

* * *

“But you see his point?” DJ Freddy Young was saying. “Men get accused of this stuff all the time. Some real, some not.”

Jace was having a hard time keeping his mouth shut. “No. I don’t. It’s never okay for a man, for anyone, to be a predator—period. I’m pretty sure everything that comes out of Tig Whitman’s mouth is a pile of sh—”

“Jace,” Krystal cut in, her crushing grip on his hand reining him in. Which was good because he’d been about to tell DJ Freddy Young he was a fucking idiot. Who invited someone on their show, then proceeded to ridicule them for making sexual abuse allegations without proof? Apparently this asshole.

“There was enough proof to warrant a restraining order. That’s a pretty good place to start,” Krystal said. “Since the case is still pending, it’s probably best if we talk about the single.”

DJ Freddy nodded and turned to Krystal. “I hear it was originally for your sister to sing? With Jace? What happened there?”

“Emmy knew it was a special song.” Krystal smiled. “She said she had a sore throat so I’d have to rehearse with Jace. My father was there.”

Jace nodded. “He heard us singing and said that was it.” He looked at her. “I knew, after singing with Krystal, it wouldn’t be the same. We have this thing—”

“Oh, I feel your chemistry.” DJ Freddy laughed. “I’ve got the AC cranked up in here and it’s still smoking hot.”

Krystal’s hand tightened again.

“You’re not worried about what all this Tig Whitman stuff is going to do to your career?” DJ Freddy circled back around.

“No.” Jace shook his head. “The truth has a way of coming out. Is it painful? Hell yes. But it’s true. As long as people stay quiet, this sort of thing will keep happening. Three out of four assaults go unreported. Can you imagine? Living in fear? Hurting? That’s wrong. I don’t care who you are, who has done this to you, it’s not okay.” He held her hand against his chest. “That’s what people should be saying. That’s what matters. And I’m proud of Krystal for coming forward. I can’t imagine how terrifying it is to go through it, then get ripped apart for trying to make sure it doesn’t happen to someone else.”

“We’ve heard about the emails and letters you’ve been getting,” DJ Freddy said. “People of all ages? Sharing their story with you? Victims? Is that right?”

“It is. It’s very humbling to have someone share something so personal with you. But I think it’s easier to talk about it with someone who’s been through it. They know. They understand. And there’s no judgment.” She paused. “I’ve been trying to answer most of them, but there’s been a lot. And I’m not an expert. But there are some amazing resources out there, for victims and their families. I’ve posted them on the Three Kings website. And you can call this helpline, anytime, to get help.” She read the phone number.

“We’ll leave it with that. I wanna thank you two for coming in today,” DJ Freddy said. “Now, here it is, their brand-new single, out today, ‘Ashes of my Heart.’” He pressed a few buttons. “We’re good. Thanks.”

Jace and Krystal shook hands and were escorted, quickly, to the black SUV waiting outside. Sawyer climbed into the driver’s seat and they were off.

“You controlled yourself.” She sounded amused.

“Barely.” He sighed. “Next?”

“We have a break.” She stared out the window. “There’s the afternoon talk show and the late show tonight.”

He studied her profile, itching to take her hand. They’d made three stops already. And every time they got in the car, she’d turn away, shut down. The amount of pressure she was under was overwhelming. Between her family and the single and Tig… If there was ever a time to fall apart, it was now. In true Krystal fashion, she was holding it inside. She always had a shoulder for Emmy or Travis, but she would never think to burden them. She needed someone to talk to.

Dammit, he wanted to be there for her. “You can talk to me.”

She shook her head, her phone ringing. She glanced at the screen, then answered. “Misumi?” She shifted, her skirt sliding up just enough to show off some skin.