Tainted Heartbreak (Tainted Knights 3)

“Mas, don’t play in front of the door, dude,” he called without looking up. “Dad’s got to work with the pretty redhead today.”

“’Kay, Daddy,” his mini-me muttered and grabbed the dinosaurs he was playing with to move out of the doorway. Looking up at me, he frowned. “Wanna play with me?”

I crouched down in front of him, picking up the T-Rex. “I wish I could, buddy. Unfortunately, today I have to pretend to be an adult.”

“That sucks.”

“Mason, don’t let your mom hear you say sucks, dude,” Shane advised.

“It’s not a bad word,” his son complained.

“No, it’s not, but Mom doesn’t like you to say it.” He finally turned to look down at the boy. “Mom rules our world, son. We do what she says. Right?”

He sighed heavily. “Yes, sir.”

Shane turned his blue-gray eyes on me, a grin teasing at his lips as I straightened. “Morning. You ready for the drama fest that is about to go down?”

I frowned. “What drama fest?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” he assured me with a laugh. “Crap’s about to hit the fan.”

Moments later, Kin walked into the soundproof room in front of us and took a seat at the mic. Seeing me, she waved, but I could see she wasn’t happy about something. Agitatedly, she spread out the sheet music. “I’m ready when you are,” she said into the microphone.

Shane pressed a button on the control panel that looked like some kind of alien spaceship device. “Just relax, Kin. It’s just me, Amara, and Mason here. Give me all you got, sweetheart, and I’ll do the rest. Yeah?”

Her shoulders drooped, and she nodded. She swallowed hard, tipped her head back, and opened her mouth as she let out what must have been an ear-splitting scream, but no one could hear it. Shane and I shared a brief look, and I rushed from the room. Opening the door to the soundproof studio, I walked in and wrapped my arms around Kin.

She sagged against me, and after a small hesitation, she wrapped her arms around my waist. “I hate the world right now. Maybe…” She sucked in a ragged breath. “Maybe we should wait a few days to do this.”

I held her tight for a moment before leaning back just enough to look down at her. “Nah,” I told her with a reassuring smile. “I think you’re going to do great today. Artists need passion. No one said it had to be happy passion.”

“This isn’t passion. It’s a desperation to eradicate all the liars in my life—and the inability to accomplish such a feat without going to prison.”

I snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, I’ve been there a few times. But experience has taught me that the best way to get back at those idiots is just to move on.”

“Easier said than done.” She released me and pushed her hair back from her gorgeous face. “But you’re right. It’s definitely time to move on. I’m just glad it’s Friday.”

“You need a night out.” I pulled my phone out of the back pocket of my maternity jeans, a new purchase since nothing else fit me but dresses, and sent a text to Riley. “This calls for a girls’ night. I’m taking you out, getting you drunk, maybe even laid if you’re up for that, and making you turn off everything even remotely related to Jace St. Charles.”

“Fuck yeah.” She laughed a little shakily. “Make sure you invite Lucy, though. You two preggos can watch the rest of us shoot tequila together.”

I grinned. “Sounds like a date. Riley is making all the plans as we speak.”

Her grin started to dim, and she grasped my hand. “Thanks, Amara. I honestly don’t know how I would have gotten through the last few months without you beside me to keep me straight.”

“Just remember you’re not alone, babe. I’m here anytime you need me.” I hugged her one more time and stepped back. “Now, deep breath. Suck it up and put all the feels into your music. You got this. You’re going to be a motherfucking rock star.”

--

Hours later, as I snagged an everything bagel from the break room for a quick lunch, I hurried back to my desk to get started on some of the work Emmie needed done. As I passed reception, the girl behind the desk jumped to her feet.

“Amara, right?”

Pulling the bagel from my mouth, I nodded. “That’s me. What’s up?”

“You had a visitor. I showed her to your office.” My brows lifted. “She said it was important.”

“Who is ‘she’?”