Composed at Randy’s (Diner Days)

8. Bael

Chapter 8

Bael

I can barely believe what I'm seeing when I step out of the elevator into the hallway leading to our suite.

Poor, tiny little Wren is wrestling with Brent and James, both of who are easily twice his size. I see red and storm towards the clusterfuck happening in front of my home.

“We stopped him before he escaped. No harm done.” Brent informs me like it’s something I'd ordered him to do.

“Give him to me.” When they hesitate, I bark, “Now!” I don't care how it sounds because I'm not worried about hurting anyone's feelings at the moment, so my order makes both guards pale and shove Wren at me like he burned them.

Wren is a floppy little rag doll in my arms, and it makes me want to kill everyone within reach. Not Wren, obviously. Him I want to tuck away in my room so no one can ever see him or hurt him again.

“Get her out of my sight,” I hiss at Harvey, jerking my chin toward the woman I know must be our new assistant. No one else would be in our suite, so who else could she be? “And call Gwen. Tell her it’s an emergency.”

I storm toward my room, calling over my shoulder, “Mel, you’re a terrible judge of character.”

I slam my door behind me and hurry to put Wren on my bed. “I’m sorry, Wren. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t tell them to do that to you.” I’m burying him in blankets and shoving cat after stuffed cat at him, like they can fix what happened. I give him all my favorite cats.

He can keep them forever as long as he's okay.

I’m so goddamned stupid. Why did I let Harvey convince me to leave Wren alone here? What if Brent and James broke him?

“Please be okay. It'll never happen again, I promise.”

Wren opens his eyes, and his voice is soft and shaky when he says, “Allie wanted me to sign something. She wouldn't let me leave unless I did. I didn't want to sign it, so I ran.”

I rest my forehead on the bed and kick myself internally. Stupid fucking Harvey and his stupid fucking NDAs.

“You don't have to sign anything, I promise. No one is gonna grab you like that again. Not ever.”

I reach out and stroke his hair, smoothing it down from where it was ruffled during the struggle. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to stop touching you. I’ll stop.” I know I won’t be able to stop for long, but I’m really, really going to try because he was just roughly manhandled by two big guys, and I can’t imagine him being comfortable being casually touched by another.

When I pull my hand away, Wren grabs my wrist and pulls it back to rest on his head and says, “No, I like it. Don’t stop.”

“Thank god,” I say and immediately go back to petting him. “Your hair is just so soft and fluffy. I can’t help myself.”

Wren’s eyes drift shut slowly as I stroke his hair, and he’s doing that thing baby animals do when they don’t realize they’re falling asleep. His eyes close and then they pop back open again, then they drift shut again, and it’s longer between sleepy blinks, and his eyes don’t open as wide after each blink. I know he’ll be asleep any second now, so I keep playing with his hair.

“You’re safe, Wren. I won’t let anything happen to you. It’s safe to fall asleep, I promise.”

He gives a soft sigh, and his eyes stay closed after his last sleepy blink.

Wren is a gift. The universe dropped a fucking gift into my lap, and I’ll be damned if I squander it.

Once I’m sure Wren is fully asleep, I move away from him as slowly as possible. I ease my weight off the bed ounce-by-ounce because I’m afraid that if he wakes up, he might pull a goldfish on me and die. Or at least become incredibly ill.

It takes me at least five minutes to get myself completely free of the bed and then another five minutes to tiptoe over to my door, step out into the hallway, and close it behind me.

Harvey is standing there just like I expected him to be. His discomfort is seeping through his generally impassive expression.

Good. He should be uncomfortable right now.

I glare at him and ask, “Is Gwen here yet?”

“She’s on her way and should be here in less than ten minutes.”

“Good. When Gwen gets here, everyone in the penthouse and I are going to have a talk . It’s going to be the scary kind, and you should all be feeling anxious while you wait.”

“Bael—”

“No. You sit in the common room with everyone else and feel anxious too. Everyone had better be there when I’m done here. Now go.”

Harvey visibly ages in front of me, and he no longer appears to be the strict, unflappable guy who’s been pushing me and the guys through the ranks of stardom to superstardom whether we want to go or not.

After today, I have a feeling I’ll never see him the same way again.

I watch Harvey walk away until I’m certain he won’t turn around to argue with me, and then I sneak back into my room. I don't go back to my bed because I don't want to make Gwen wait the ten minutes it would take for me to let her in once she gets here. Instead, I lean against my door and google how to help homeless people get back on their feet again.

I quickly realize that most of it won't apply to my situation because none of it says anything about putting the person in your bed, being unable to stop petting their hair, or what to do if your bodyguards accidentally assault them when you're not around.

Being responsible is a lot harder than I thought it would be.

I'm tempted to go on Instagram and ask my fans for advice, but I remember at the last second that discussing my personal life on social media is at the top of Harvey's list of Things not to do if we don't want Harvey to die before he turns fifty .

Hey, I may be pissed off at Harvey, but I don't want him to die.

So I put my phone back into my pocket and vibe out to the ever present song living in my head. I've always got at least one in there begging for my attention, and this one is well on its way to being born. No lyrics yet—that’s more Mel’s thing than mine, but the music is already loud and proud. As I watch Wren sleep, it only gets louder and prouder.

What is it about this guy? He somehow calms and stimulates me all at the same time.

Whatever it is, I love it.

There’s a soft tap on the door behind me.

“It’s me, Bael,” Gwen’s voice is barely audible even though I’m standing right there. She’s such a thoughtful doctor.

I opened the door as quietly as possible and squeeze my body through a small crack like I’m trying to keep an animal from getting in. I frown when I realize my subconscious is probably trying to keep the world from getting in to hurt Wren.

“Harvey told me what happened,” Gwen says and puts a calming hand on my arm. “It wasn't your fault. From what everyone tells me, you've done an amazing job so far. Please don't beat yourself up over this.”

My eyebrows go up in surprise.

Gwen snorts and says, “What's with the face? I'm not that mean, am I?”

I shake my head quickly so she doesn't yell at me. “No, of course not.”

I know that, deep down, Gwen is a kind person. It's just that she generally shows her kindness through threats and yelling. This might be the first time she's ever been gentle with me.

Admittedly, this is the first time I've needed her to help me with a problem I didn't cause.

At least, I think I didn't cause this one.

“That's what I thought.” Gwen sniffs haughtily.

Yeah, maybe I can stand up to Harvey, but Gwen is a whole different ball of wax.

“He’s asleep right now, so be quiet when you go in, and we should wake him up gently so you don’t scare him.”

“I’ll do my best. No, you don't need to be a part of the examination, Bael.” Gwen puts a restraining hand on my chest when I try to follow her into my room. “Allow me some semblance of professionalism here.”

I swear to you that the sound I make isn’t a whimper, but for some reason, Gwen still pats me on the shoulder like I'm a puppy. She probably would have patted my head if she could reach that high.

I let her close the door in my face, and I wait outside my bedroom for longer than I'm proud of before I remember the talk I'm supposed to be giving everyone. I pause because I'm torn between making sure I can be there for Wren the second he needs me and tearing a new asshole into everyone who needs it.

I finally decide on getting the asshole tearing out of the way.

Yeah, I didn't like how that sounded either. Let's just move on.

When I get to the common room, everyone is there. Mel, Travis, and Shay are sharing a single couch, all three looking mildly uncomfortable, and I nod in approval because it means they’re following my instructions.

Harvey is in the leather wingback chair. His face says he has everything under control, but his body language makes him seem like he's about to jump to his feet at the next loud noise.

Brent and James are standing behind Harvey, and I can't tell whether they’re trying to make a show of protecting him from me, or if they’re using Harvey as a human shield between me and them.

Eh, either way, everyone here is getting a new asshole.

Okay, I'll stop with the asshole metaphor.

Probably.

No promises.

I spot Allie quivering by the door, and I notice Mel is looking anywhere but at her. Solidarity between sibs is strong in our group, even when we have conflict. This is why I know we're going to make it as a band instead of falling apart due to infighting like a lot of other bands do.

“Why are you still here?” I ask Allie, and I note with grim satisfaction that she tries to melt into the wall behind her.

“I told her to stay until you told her she could go,” Harvey replies.

Huh. That actually makes sense, and I'm glad Harvey thought of it. How else would I find out what happened if I don’t get every side of the story?

I nod my approval at Harvey and note that the tension in his body cuts in half.

Jesus, it's not like I'm going to fire him or anything. Harvey can be a bit intense, but he's still one of us. However, Harvey fucked up big time with this one, and he needs to know that it better not happen again.

Laura enters the room, and she glides over to the couch where the band sits. “I wasn't sure if you wanted me to be here, but you said you wanted everyone and that includes me.”

She waits until I say, “You can stay,” before sitting on the arm of the couch next to Mel. She take’s Mel’s hand in hers, and I can see Shay giving them both some serious stink-eye.

“Tell me what happened,” I fold my arms in front of me, and everyone but Allie starts talking at once.

Shay immediately starts bitching about Mel fucking his mom. Travis is thoroughly confused because he was still in the elevator when I rescued Wren, so he keeps saying “I don't think I'm supposed to be here.” Everyone else's words become a din of incomprehensible noise, and I shout, “Quiet!” Then I get angry because they made me shout, and I don't want Wren to hear and get scared.

“Allie, you go first,” I say to be petty because she was the only one not talking, and because it was her job to make sure Wren was safe.

“I did everything Harvey told me to do!” Allie blurted.

“I don't remember Harvey telling you to sit on the poor boy, jam a pen into his hand, and try to force him to sign that contract.” Laura nudged a loose pile of papers that had fallen under the coffee table.

Allie shot Laura what could only be described as a how could you betray me after we fucked? look. Laura shrugged and gave her an innocent smile.

“I definitely didn’t tell her to do that, Bael,” Harvey said, voice dripping with disdain. “Don't make this worse for yourself, Allie.”

If Allie could fuse herself with the wall behind her, I'm pretty sure she would.

“But you did tell her to make Wren sign an NDA.” It’s not a question because I know he did. It was such a Harvey move that it didn't need to be asked.

“It's standard procedure for the entire band. No one is exempt from this rule, and the only reason why Wren didn't sign one before he came into the penthouse was because he was asleep at the time.”

“That's only for hookups. Wren isn't a hookup.”

“I didn't have to sign anything,” Laura said merrily.

“That's because you're the mother of one of the band members,” Harvey says, and I can tell he’s trying to be polite to her but failing miserably.

“You just said no one is exempt from this rule,” Travis reminds him.

I can see Harvey regretting every second of the last twenty-four hours of his life, and if this wasn't so important, I’d be laughing my ass off right now.

And if I wasn't so pissed off, I'd be more than happy to sit back and watch Harvey attempt to pull himself out of the hole he’d just dug.

Honestly, it's his fault for not realizing something like this was bound to happen eventually.

I don't have to worry about one of my guys fucking my mom because I don't even know who she is. I suppose it's possible that one of them already has, but that's not a rabbit hole I need to dive down.

Hopefully, wherever she is, she's happy.

Everyone continues to bicker about who fucked who and who should sign what, and since I'm still mad as hell, I bulldoze over it, and repeat, “Wren isn’t a hookup.” Everyone shuts the fuck up because I was loud about it, and I continue. “Wren is a guest . He’s my guest, and he can stay here as long as he wants to, and he doesn't need to sign anything in order to do it. Are we clear?”

I stare Harvey down until his no-nonsense aura wilts.

“Good,” I say, and then I move on to the bodyguards. “Who told you to grab Wren like that?”

There's a lot of hemming and hawing between Brent and James considering how lethal they both appear, but maybe I'm bringing my A-game today because they both look like children who are about to have Christmas canceled on them.

After a fascinating nonverbal conversation where they make a ton of meaningful eye contact, they reach a consensus and point at Allie.

“You two are such assholes,” Allie snarls.

Hey, that asshole wasn't mine this time. Assholes pop up left and right whether I want them to or not, but currently, it’s the bad kind and not the good kind.

Pity.

“Are we lying?” Brent asks. “Because I seem to remember a certain someone who insisted that we not let anyone leave other than her if she didn't give us the go ahead.”

“Ha! Your mom is going to have to sign one too, Shay!” Travis laughs so hard that he tips over and rolls right off the couch.

“I'm not signing shit, sweetie.” Laura blows a kiss to Harvey, and I swear he ages even more. I’d say he’s gained an entire decade since we got back.

“You're not making my mom sign an NDA just because she fucked Mel.”

“Seriously. You didn't make my mom sign one when she fucked Shay.” Mel is just goddamned shameless, and I love the slut.

Mel and Shay make eye contact, and for a second there, I think they might be about to scrap, but then they both laugh and give each other a high five. Travis's head almost becomes a casualty because he tries to climb back up onto the couch just as they do it.

It’s a narrow miss though, and I'm glad for it because I don't want Gwen to get dragged away from Wren just because Travis got a concussion due to terrible timing.

“I'm still not sure why I'm here,” Travis says grouchily. He crawls over Shay’s lap and nudges him closer to Mel, probably to stay out of the potential concussion zone.

I nod in approval. I told you my band was solid. It's the admin side I’m concerned with.

“As for you two,” I tell the guards, “neither of you are allowed to touch Wren ever again. If he wants to leave, he can leave.”

Oh shit. What if Wren wants to leave? How will I get him to stay if he really wants to go? I might need to revisit this issue with Brent and James later. There must be a polite, non-scary way to keep somebody from leaving the penthouse, right? I’ll google it.

“Bael?” Gwen enters the room and comes up to me. “Wren asked me to have you come back in. He’s sleepy, but he’ll be okay.”

“I gotta go. Feel free to argue amongst yourselves. And Harvey? Get her the fuck out of here.” I point at Allie and jerk my thumb towards the front door.

I'm out of the common area and down the hall to my room without another word. Wren wants to see me, and I want to make a good impression.