Damaged Grump (Bad Chicago Bosses)

Dear God, I’m not cut out for this spy chick schtick.

“So, Easterly, what does making your name look like?” I ask. “Are you making anything you really love right now?”

That brightens her instantly.

Next thing I know, I’m scribbling away on my notepad at light speed, trying to keep up with the word flood coming out of this teenager’s mouth.

She gets in a quick compliment on my hair, and then it’s all about art.

She tells me how the record labels let her write her own songs with little guidance and how she’s always wanted to do a collab with Megan Thee Stallion but she thinks the song she’s working on right now would make for an amazing duet with someone like Sam Tinnesz.

Her eyes twinkle when she talks about other artists.

It makes my heart sigh. I love that she doesn’t see them as competition.

To her, they’re role models. Idols. Teachers.

She really is a good kid.

It makes me angrier about what’s happening to her, which ironically makes my sleuthing easier.

I just can’t let that bastard ruin her.

There’s another chance to address the hulking elephant in the room as she moves on to say, “Milah Holly’s helping with my songwriting, too. She’s a lyrical genius.”

“Oh?” I ask mildly. “So you’ve made up after what happened at the gala?”

Easterly falters, tucking her blue-streaked hair back, her eyes lowering.

“Yeah, I... Honestly, I don’t get why she hates Vance so much. I know she’s been through a lot with her addictions and a few bad run-ins with some dangerous creeps—she just loves to talk about that and how those hot Enguard bodyguard dudes always saved the day—but it’s made her kinda jaded. Especially to people on the business side.”

“Milah’s been through a lot,” I agree, trying to keep my tone gentle and not judgmental. “She’s probably mistrustful of everyone at this point. She’s clearly protective of you, which could be a plus.”

“There’s nothing to protect me from, though,” Easterly says firmly, her cheeks flushing. Her eyes gleam with the electric burn that can only belong to a nineteen-year-old who thinks she’s in the truest, purest, realest love ever. “Vance loves me, Callie. He’s done so much for me, you don’t even know. He fights for my contracts like a charging moose because he cares...and I guess I don’t know why Milah can’t see it.”

Maybe because Milah’s seen a metric ton of scummy manhandling and sharp words and abusive bruising, I think. But I can’t say that out loud.

Instead, I offer, “You and Vance haven’t been together long, right? She might just need to get used to it and see that you’re serious about each other.”

“Nah, it’s been way more than a y—”

She catches herself mid-word, clamming up and darting me a guilty, wide-eyed look like she wonders if I caught it.

You’re damn right I did.

But she rolls on quickly, correcting like she didn’t just slip an ugly secret. “—more than six months, I mean.”

Uh-huh.

Technically, she’s not lying.

Over a year is more than six months.

But over a year also places her before both her nineteenth and eighteenth birthdays.

Meaning Vance Haydn is preying on minors, like the effing pond scum he is, and making them lie about it until they’re legal.

Gross.

My stomach twists.

Worse, a wretched part of me is starting to agree with Osprey.

Maybe the ends really do justify the means if it means bringing this prick down.

I have no words for the sick rage jolting through me. Especially when I have to hold it in and check my inner urge to go super bitch and tell Easterly to drop him right now.

I’ve got to keep my feelings buried.

Keep this as calm and pleasant as I can, while I pray Osprey’s getting everything.

I hope he can use it like a weapon because I want to see Vance Haydn burned alive.

I plaster on my easygoing smile, even though it feels taped in place, and tilt my head, pretending I didn’t notice anything.

“So you credit him with your sudden fame?”

“Oh yeah!” Easterly bounces the heels of her socks against the side of her bed. “He scouted me out at one of the open mic nights. At first I didn’t believe him when he said he goes looking for talent at those things all the time, but well...” She tucks her hair behind her ear, her eyes shining, her smile so lovelorn I inwardly cringe. “He’s the real deal. He keeps his promises, Callie.”

“Interesting. Especially when I’ve heard he’s also broken a few.” I have to be careful. “I don’t get around the gossip mill much, but you know how people talk. Some folks say he’s ended a few careers. People who were on a great trajectory with his label, suddenly dropped cold. All their deals gone, and then they fall into obscurity overnight.”

I don’t want to add, And that’s what he’ll do to you.