Bad Boy Redemption (Bad Boy Rock Star #3) Read online

  I was pretty sure the amount of music crap Jack had around the place was growing.

  “Plus, with what we spend on coffee, it’s going to save us a fortune. We can decorate it up really cute and it’ll be Storm HQ.”

  “Actually it’ll be Megastar Management. Speaking of, I’ve had a nightmare of paperwork lately. All those old guys Dad had signed to the company, there’s been dribs and drabs of royalties from them. Every time they get played on the oldies radio stations, they get paid. I’ve needed to follow them up and get everything consolidated. It hasn’t been done for a while so it’s been a nightmare.”

  Before we could look too much, the guys arrived home.

  “Hey, woman, you got dinner on the table?” Jack said.

  I punched him as he threw his arms around me. I have many skills, but cooking isn’t one of them. For some reason, Jack thought it was funny to say that every single day.

  Eric sat on the arm of the chair next to Angie, his arm around her.

  “We’ll cook,” he said, “because we are NOT ordering in pizza again. Jack will get fat then our career will be down the tubes.”

  “Hey, we have a lot more to offer than my pretty face,” Jack said. “Anyone else want a beer?”

  He got a round of drinks out of the fridge.

  Eric dragged Angie into the kitchen. They actually managed to find some vegetables in the fridge. Angie passed them to Eric and he chopped with a rhythmic pace.

  Jack told me about his day in the studio. It sounded like the session had been going well.

  “I just need to get one more song. Something new and special. I’ve almost got it; I feel like I’m so close, but I’m not quite there yet.”

  As usual, a special light shone in Jack’s eyes when he talked about his music.

  “Hey Jack, do we have any garlic?” Eric called from the kitchen.

  “You’re asking me? I have no idea.”

  He and Eric laughed like it was a big joke. Seriously, this household was a mess. We barely had any food in the cupboard, but we had like eight jars of garlic.

  “So, what did you do today?” Jack asked. “Since you didn’t have my dinner ready.”

  I kicked him.

  “I finished off the paperwork then I did some study. And your mother dropped over. You should give her a call some time. She said she hasn’t heard from you in ages.”

  Jack smashed his beer onto the coffee table.

  “You didn’t let her in, did you?”

  I nodded. Even the tap of Eric’s chopping stopped. It wasn’t like I’d done anything wrong. It was Jack’s mother.

  “Bloody hell, Hannah. Tell me you didn’t give her any money.”

  I bit my lip. Jack had gone rigid except for the vein pulsing in his neck. I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

  “Don’t ever let that woman in this house again. And don’t ever, ever give her money. Ever. I mean it, Hannah.”

  “She said she needed to buy some tablets. You should be a bit nicer, Jack. She’s your mother.”

  He shook his head. “She’ll have you targeted now. You’ll never get rid of her. Listen, Hannah. The only ‘medicine’ that woman is going to buy is the kind you shoot into your veins. She’s a leech. She’ll suck you dry and still expect more. She’s my mother, but she’s no mother really. Really, Hannah, I thought you’d gotten a bit more street smart. You don’t just give money to people.”

  I wanted to say something in my defence but figured he knew his mother better than I did. Still, she’d looked so pitiful sitting there. Maybe she just needed someone to give her a helping hand, build up her confidence a bit.

  “Don’t even think it, Hannah. I can read that look on your face. You can’t change her. You can’t help her. All you can do is protect yourself. And the way to do that is to stay away.”

  He folded his arms and looked out the French windows to the courtyard. I’d never heard him talk about his mother before and hadn’t expected that bitter outburst.

  “How am I supposed to know these things if you don’t tell me?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “To be honest, Hannah, I think it’s pretty obvious when you look at her.” Angie didn’t mean to be unkind but her words bugged me. At times like this, I felt the divide between my upbringing and theirs.

  “When did you meet her?” Jack asked. He had that tone in his voice with the undercurrent of something more.

  “That night at the gig when Hannah was in Japan. I was being the awesome fill-in manager and you let me sing with the band. Honestly, you should do that more often. The crowd loved it.”

  Angie started singing one of Storm’s songs to make her point. She could sing almost as good as Jack and a tiny little piece of me hated her for that. Like they were all in the good singers club and I wasn’t allowed to join in.

  “She was hanging around the band room door looking for you. I figured she was your mum because she looks like you.”

  Jack shrugged, but he didn’t seem happy about that. Angie had never told me about his mother turning up to see the band. Still, I didn’t think she was that bad if she’d gone to see them play.

  “Did she take anything? I mean, you didn’t leave her alone at any time did you?”

  I shook my head. “No. She was only here for a moment. I made her a coffee and we chatted for a bit then she left—oh, shit, she asked me for a glass of water when she was leaving and I got it for her. But I was in the kitchen the whole time.”

  “Fuuuuck. I hope there was nothing valuable sitting around.”

  I didn’t say anything but got up and checked my bag. She couldn’t have gotten my wallet out while I was in the kitchen, not without me seeing her. I wanted the money to still be there. I wanted to prove Jack wrong and show him that he was being mean about her. After all, she was his mother and I’d like to see him reconciled with her.

  I checked my wallet. I wasn’t sure how much money I had in there but it had to be around two-hundred dollars after the one-hundred dollars I’d given his mother. I opened up the notes section and there was only fifty dollars left.

  “So, did she take anything?”

  “No,” I said, putting a smile on my face. “See. It’s all here. You are far too suspicious, Jack.”

  I held up the note as proof.

  Chapter 7

  I spent the next day at uni. We were supposed to do this stupid project that involved getting “real world experience”, so I was trying to convince the admin office that I should get credit for the real world experience I already had. You know, managing a band and dealing with contracts and promotion, and getting them a major recording deal. Surely that was more real world experience than you’d get working in some dumb office stuffing envelopes, or making coffee, or whatever they made you do on those kinds of projects. If I got this approved, I only had to do a half load for the year. That would mean just four more subjects and I’d be out of here forever, thank you very much. Only, because I didn’t have an employer to sign off on things, they were being real pains about it. It meant organising appointments with people in the faculty then having to explain and re-explain. I think half the people I dealt with should’ve gone out and done a real world experience project instead of sitting in their university offices.

  I’d just walked out of the appointment with a shitload of paperwork that no one had told me I needed in the first three appointments. This was a test to see if they could drive me nuts, I knew it.

  My phone buzzed. It was Frank.

  “Can you drop into my office as soon as you can?”

  “Sure. Is there some urgent work come through?” Maybe I could use Frank to get all this stuff sorted. I mean, he was the company’s lawyer so that would be proof enough surely. I was brilliant.

  “Not work, it’s something personal. I don’t want to tell you over the phone, but I think you need to get over here.”

  I sighed. I bet it was something my dad had put him up to. Like remote nagging.

  I fla
gged down a cab. I really needed to buy a car. Nothing fancy, maybe a Mini Cooper. A Mini Cooper would be perfect and they couldn’t be that expensive because half the students at uni had them. If only I could convince Jack to let me park it in the garage with his precious baby. Even Eric wasn’t allowed to use the garage, and he only had a bike.

  When I got to Frank’s office, he had his serious face on. I sat down and waited for him to say what he had to say.

  “Hannah, I’ve got some news about your father and… it’s not good.”

  “Is he okay?” Shit. I automatically thought of the worst-case scenario. I’d been so mean to him the last time we’d talked too. I clutched the side of the chair, wishing Frank would just say it. He’d had a heart attack and died, or he was in jail. Those were the two possibilities.

  “His health is okay but he’s… there’s been a warrant for his arrest out for a while, and now they’ve found him and they are starting the extradition process. He’ll be back in the country within a week or so, and the hearing will start not long after.”

  I took a deep breath. At least he was alive. That had to be something. He’d fight these charges and he’d get off, or maybe just get a fine or something. It wasn’t like he’d really done anything wrong. I hardly thought that was worth Frank making me come all the way to his office.

  “You have to prepare yourself. The press are going to be all over this. You might get a fair bit of unwelcome attention yourself.”

  I froze, remembering when my dad’s case had first got press. Reporters following me everywhere and having to go into hiding. That was a hell I never wanted to repeat.

  “Why do they come after me? I’m not involved in this; I’m just an innocent bystander.”

  “Because he’s a middle-aged man while you are a pretty young girl who looks good in a picture on the front page. That sells papers.”

  Holy shit. What would this do to Storm? Last time the record company had been keen until the scandal came out, then they didn’t want to know me. At least this time we had the contracts signed. They couldn’t pull out. I had to get out of this office and sort out what I needed to do.

  “Are you okay?” Frank asked. “You look really pale. Do you want water or something?”

  He moved and put his arm around me, but that just made my flesh crawl. I’d always felt uncomfortable around this man. Even though he would be considered not bad looking if you were into that older-man-DILF thing, I hated having him too close.

  I stood up, wanting to get out of that office.

  “I’m okay, really I am. It’s just a lot to process. Will I be able to visit him when he gets back to the country?”

  Frank grimaced. “You can but you might want to think about what’s best for you. Keep your distance. That might be the best move.”

  I held on to the back of the chair, still feeling woozy.

  “One more thing, Hannah. Your dad managed to move a lot of his assets into your name before this. When the case starts, they’ll have go through all the property they seized from you. It might make things easier if you have a bit of capital behind you.”

  I didn’t even want to think about that. I just wanted to get somewhere that wasn’t so stuffy. There was no air in this office at all, and I could hardly breathe.

  In the cab back to the apartment I wound the window down, sucking in the not-so-fresh air. I got to the apartment and let myself in. Eric called out to me from the kitchen.

  He’s home early from recording. My stomach heaved. I rushed to the bathroom but my legs moved as if I were walking through water. I wanted to tell Eric I needed help and I didn’t feel right, but my mouth couldn’t move.

  “Are you okay, Hannah?” Jack had come downstairs. “You look like hell.”

  Jack brought me a glass of water. I took a few sips then he helped me move to the couch.

  I explained to him what Frank had told me.

  “I think we need to work out how to deal with this. Having me as manager might not be good for the band. It should be a group decision.”

  Jack nodded.

  “I’m happy to stick with you,” said Eric. “We were going nowhere before we met you, and look at us now.”

  Jack didn’t look so convinced, though. “We have to call Spud. We can’t decide something like this without him. He’s part of the band too.”

  I propped myself up.

  “Do we have to?” I muttered. “We all know what he’s going to say.”

  “Yes, we do. I know you don’t like him but he’s one of us.”

  “Okay, well we have get Angie over too. She’s part of us too.”

  Jack nodded. “I’ll call them. We aren’t going to get rid of you, Hannah. We just need to plan for this. If it’s going to mean bad press, we have to protect you.”

  I agreed. It didn’t mean I wanted to discuss my private life with Spud, but it was his life too. The five of us would all be affected. I totally understood what Jack meant. This wasn’t just about me, it was about all of us.

  “How are you?” Angie said when she arrived. She sat down on the couch beside me.

  “I’m fine, really I am. A bit shocked, but fine. I’ve been trying to call Dad but his phone isn’t on. Maybe he’s gotten rid of it. Who knows? You know, I’d like to be able to say I’ll stick by him no matter what but I feel like I really don’t know him. The person I grew up with, the person I thought was my father, was just a fake.”

  Angie stroked my arm. I know she was trying to be reassuring but I’m not really a person who likes having my arm stroked.

  “Go outside for a cigarette,” I whispered to her.

  She got up and I followed her.

  “I didn’t want to say this in front of Jack, but I keep thinking that if I’d married Tamaki, this wouldn’t have happened. The band wouldn’t be involved and maybe Dad would have avoided all this. He warned me but I thought he was being melodramatic.”

  I sat down on the bench while Angie lit her cigarette.

  “Maybe. But what can you do? He got himself into this situation in the first place. I mean, how do you get yourself into a spot where you need your daughter to marry someone to save you? You have to be pretty well screwed to get to that point. Hannah, you can’t save your dad. You could never save him. If you’d married Tamaki, he’d have just screwed up in some other way.”

  Angie paced around the courtyard, drawing hard on her cigarette as her mind clicked over. I’ve never been a smoker, but, watching Angie, I wondered if it would give me some sense of comfort if I took it up. Instead, I drew my legs up and hugged my knees to my chest.

  “I guess you are right, but still he’s my father, Ange. Frank suggested I keep my distance, but I don’t know if I can do that. He’s going to need help. I mean, he’s going to freakin’ jail, where there are real criminals. The kind that would gut you like a fish for looking at them wrong. Massive man-mountains of muscle and tattoos and anger.”

  “He’ll probably only go to minimum security if he’s convicted.”

  “Hey, I’ve watched TV, I know what jail is like.”

  I picked at the edge of the seat. Even I could hear the hysterical edge to my voice.

  Before Angie could answer, I watched Jack answer the door to Spud and his girlfriend, Denise. Seriously, you would think anyone with any sense would realise that she wasn’t welcome. This was a pretty personal thing for me, and I didn’t want to deal with it all in front of a complete stranger. Even though he’d been going out with her almost since the beginning of the tour, I’d hardly even spoken to her. Every time I’d seen the two of them they’d been totally wasted and not able to string a whole lot of words together.

  “I guess we should go in and get this over with.”

  Angie put her hand on my shoulder.

  “Stay strong, Hannah. This isn’t your issue. You’re the innocent one here.”

  I smiled at her. I knew that but it seemed the world didn’t care who was innocent or not, they just cared about getting a good ph
oto.

  “Okay,” I said. “We have to work out what we are going to do when this all breaks out in the press. What kind of impact it’ll have on the band and what damage control we can do.”

  I glared at Spud, waiting for him to say I should just quit being their manager and a whole other rant about my bad management.

  “What? Why are you looking at me?” Spud glared back.

  “You’re okay with me as manager?” I raised my eyebrow, waiting for him to say it.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. I didn’t know that was what we were talking about here.”

  My mouth dropped open. Angie’s mouth dropped open, too. Even Jack and Eric’s eyes widened.

  “What? What? I know we had a few differences at first, Hannah-bal, but since you got us that sweet recording deal, you’re okay in my book. You keep that cash rolling in and we won’t care that your daddy’s in the big house being traded for cigarettes.”

  I would not punch him. I would not. I clenched my hands and took a deep breath.

  Jack grinned at Spud. The whole bromance thing was back in full force.

  He was still being a bit funny about the thing with his mother, which was incredibly immature of him. In the end, it was my money and if I got ripped off by his mother that was my damage, not his. It wasn’t like this was some kind of dysfunctional parent contest.

  “The way I see it, we should just keep Hannah as low-key as possible. It’s not like she has to be that closely connected to the band. How many band managers could you even name?” asked Eric. He sat down beside Angie and looked at her for confirmation.

  “You could change your name,” said Jack. “Something that’s not associated with your jailbird father.”

  “What? Like Crumpton?”

  Jack glared at me and I could see the vein in his neck throbbing, the way it always did when he got angry.

  “She can’t change her name. She’s going to look as guilty as fuck if she gets found out, and then everyone is going to think we’re covering everything up. What she should do is call a press conference when her dad gets back here. Get up in front of everyone and say ‘I’m Hannah and my dad is a jailbird’ then sing like a canary about her dad and at the end, say ‘I manage Storm who are a top band and their new CD will be out soon’. Then do the finger guns. Definitely the finger guns. That will screw them all.”