Billionaires Runaway Bride

Talon walked my way as I stood to go, blocking my path. “You’ve got to talk to him.”

I rubbed my arms with my hands, warding off the coolness I felt. “What?”

“This...this whatever you had with my brother, I don't know how you want to classify it, but whatever it was, you have to talk to him about it. He’s being a total dick to everyone, and I, for one, can’t take it anymore. I mean, look at the shit that's just happened!”

“That’s not my fault,” I shot back, aware of the anger glowing in his stare. I wasn’t about to tell him that his brother was a total douche. He probably already knew.

Talon took a step toward me, his fists clenched at his sides. “Yes, this is your fault, Nalia. God, you really are totally blind to how he feels about you, to how much he cares about you, aren’t you? The man has been sleeping by himself for the last month, right down the hall. And when he’s not sleeping, he’s in a mood that, frankly, I’m sick and tired of. So, quit dicking him around and wrap this, whatever it is, up with him. Sort it out, and stop avoiding the damn issue.”

Hurt and angry, I pushed away from him. “Do you have any idea what he did? This is not my fault! Quit sticking up for him! If he cared about me at all, he wouldn’t have…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

Talon looked at me for a moment, recognition dawning on his face. “Shit. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Tears blurred my eyes, and I stepped around him, not wanting him to see me cry. Yes, I was in love with a man I couldn’t trust, a man I couldn’t have. I was so done with this entire business, with every one of these assholes! I couldn’t take another minute of dealing with it all. They could pull another woman out of the crowd tonight to be their assistant, because I was through.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Owen

I cracked my knuckles and flexed my hands — anxious, angry, and nervous all at the same time. My hands were aching from my stupid ass altercation with Talon earlier in the day. They hurt to the point where I’d had to soak them in hot salt water to relieve some of the pain. Now, the pain and the aches were coming back, but I fixated on it to keep my mind off of what was about to happen.

From my vantage point, I could see the packed stadium and hear the roar of the crowd as they waited anxiously to watch us perform. While the scene normally jacked me up and got my motor revving, tonight it put me on edge and stirred a building force of anxiety within me. What I couldn’t figure out was why.

Behind me, the stage was a buzz of activity, the guys running through their last-minute checks or warming up their voices before we would be stretched thin for an hour or two. I wished I could just find a quiet place and think for a moment; my thoughts were still dwelling on how Nalia had marched in and taken control of the situation earlier today.

It was the most she had spoken to me in over a month. Seeing her hadn’t brought on the reaction I had expected. My heart had fucking ached like an invisible knife had been stabbed into it repeatedly the entire time I was near her. And even though she had been pissed at the time, I had wanted nothing more than to drag her off stage and kiss her senseless in a corner somewhere until she started talking to me again.

I didn’t understand what the hell was going on, and she was refusing to talk to me, so she wasn’t telling me anything. It was maddening, and it had been tearing me apart from the inside for more than a month now. My whole world had been stuck in a crazy cycle of irritation, anger, frustration, uncertainty, and hopelessness the entire time. And even though I was always able to push it out of my mind for the few moments that I was on stage, the rest of the time there was no way to escape the awful feelings that swirled through me.

Did I mention it was maddening? But at least I had the stage. At least I had some form of escape for a little while.

The lights dimmed, and I took in a deep breath, preparing for the performance. The screaming from the dark amphitheater grew louder. Typically, I enjoyed this moment. It was usually like the moments just before the roller coaster dips into a one hundred foot drop. That moment where you know the rush is coming and you can’t wait for it to begin.

Tonight, I couldn’t totally say I was amped up to do this. In fact, I was just looking forward to the moment where I walked off stage, when it was all over. For the first time in my life, I didn't want to walk on stage; I just really wasn't in the mood. And that scared me.

“Ready?” Talon asked, slapping me on the back as he stepped up next to me. Though we hadn’t officially put our differences aside, we were brothers, and brothers fought from time to time. It wasn’t the first drag down we’d had, and I doubted it would be the last.

“Ready,” I lied.

He shot me a grin and walked out from behind the curtain, followed by the rest of the guys. I caught a glimpse of the cut on his forehead as he turned to smile at me. It had been cleaned up, but it was still noticeable, and I immediately felt like the ass I knew I was. A pang of guilt shot through me. I had been a total asshat for taking all of my pent up frustrations out on him.

I’d been an even bigger dick for not having had the decency to properly apologize for it. Unfortunately, that would have to wait. We had to a show to play at the moment, whether I was ready to step on stage or not.

I shook the tension from my arms, rotating my neck a few times to loosen some of the tightness there. It was show time. I activated my mic and ran out onto the stage, the crowd screaming in a frenzy, the lights of their cell phones and cameras flashing left and right.

“What’s up, Florida?” I yelled as the guys launched into the song we always opened with. “Are you ready to do this? Are you ready to rock?” It was my typical concert opening line, so I tried to sell it even though I knew it fell a little short of my usual enthusiasm.

They screamed back, and I grinned, sliding my gaze to the wing where I knew Nalia liked to stand even though she was avoiding me. It was like she knew I couldn’t just run off stage and force her to talk to me. But she wasn’t there. The spot was empty. Intense disappointment washed over me with its bone-chilling certainty, and even the roar of the crowd couldn't do anything to lift my spirits when I saw the empty spot.

Nearly missing my cue, I caught it just in time and started to sing, the weight of her absence as heavy as a rusty anchor dragging itself across the sea floor. Where the hell was she? She couldn’t possibly be so mad at me that she wasn’t going to support the rest of the guys. The thought that she might have left scared me shitless.

I tried to focus on the songs, but I was on autopilot; my thoughts kept swirling around the fact that she still hadn’t shown up to keep an eye on things from the sidelines. She couldn’t have just up and left. We hadn’t even discussed whatever it was that had happened between us.

Somehow, I made it through the songs without screwing any of them up. It certainly helped that the crowd was one of the better ones we had performed in front of in a while. For that, at least, I was grateful. As I started into the last song, I focused only on the top deck, hoping Nalia was listening somewhere, hoping she was somewhere that she could hear the words and the way I sang the ballad.

Earlier, she had been a distraction when I practiced it, but this evening

all I could think about was her—wishing she was sitting there listening once more. I had hoped she was going to be my saving grace. But she wasn’t there.