Nobody Falls for the Opening Act (Break the Rules Book 2)

Chapter 35

Dad. Not Dade.

Dad.

Dad?

“Jordan’s right,” Addison says, stepping back. “I have to get backstage. Excuse me.”

She yanks her hand out of mine and walks away.

What?

I look at August. He knows as much as I do — a big load of nothing — so I turn to Jordan instead. As I do, she snaps her mouth shut and goes to Donny, remembering to give him a proper farewell before dismissing herself.

Behind them, Dade Connery disappears into the tent without looking back.

What just happened?

“Dude.” August nudges me. “Go.”

I jolt into action, following Addison, pushing forward through a haze of people and music and questions. So many questions pop into my head, but they’re quickly overwhelmed by the excitement brewing within me.

Is it true?

Is Dade Connery… Addison’s father?

That’s so fucking cool!

“Addison!” I shout at her back. “Wait up!”

Addison doesn’t break her stride. She whips around the crowd, following the same path Jordan took us down to get back to the staging area. Guards stop her upon arrival, so she flashes her pass and they wave her through — only to stop me in my tracks when I try to follow.

I raise it with annoyance; the thing clearly hanging around my neck.

He waves me through. “Move along.”

“Addison!” I pick up my pace to catch up with her, bumping shoulders with countless techs and roadies and engineers who make this entire event possible. “Would you stop? Please?”

She doesn’t. “I have to finish setting up,” she spits over her shoulder.

“What just happened back there?”

“Nothing.”

I plant myself in front of her, stopping her. “Addison,” I say. “Come on. Talk to me.”

“I can’t right now, Harvey,” she says, gesturing to the stage and the hyper crowd beyond it. “Our set is in five minutes.”

“Is it true?” I ask. “Is Dade Connery really your?—”

“No. He’s not.”

“But… you called him Dad.”

“I’m not talking about this right now.”

“But—”

“Later, Harvey,” Addison says, practically growling the words. “Not here.”

“Hey, Addison!” Behind us, Chrissy waves to get our attention and points toward the trucks. “You’re needed at the truck,” she says. “There’s something wrong with your guitar.”

Addison bolts to go check it out. I follow close behind her, still eager to talk this through. “Addison?—”

“Not right now, Harvey,” she snaps. “Please, just leave it alone.”

“I would,” I say, my nerves still buzzing. “But I literally can’t! I mean, I just played a song for Dade Connery! With Rapture! With his guitar!”

She says nothing.

“Addison, did you hear what I just said?” I ask.

“I heard you, Harvey.”

We catch up with Chrissy, who points into the back of the Criminal Records truck. “In there,” she says.

Addison climbs up into it with me one step behind.

It’s empty.

Confused, we turn back around. “Chrissy?” Addison asks. “What?—”

“Buh-bye, losers!” Chrissy says, blowing a kiss.

She throws the doors closed, plunging us into darkness as her wicked laugh echoes over the dull sounds of the audience outside… and of the door’s lock firmly sliding into place.

“Uh…” I say. “What?”

Addison sighs. “That wasn’t Chrissy, was it?”

I deflate, realizing it, too.

No. It wasn’t.

That was Prissy. Chrissy’s evil twin.

Manager of The Electrics.

“Fuck,” I say.

“Hey!” Addison pounds on the door. “Hey, let us out!”

I do the same. We passed at least thirty people on the way over here. Surely, one of them is still close enough to hear us.

The truck’s engine roars to life.

Or Prissy is just gonna drive off and dump us somewhere.

“Shit,”Addison says in the dark.

I pull out my phone, tapping on the flashlight to illuminate the space.

“Call Jordan.”

“I don’t have her number,” I say.

Addison slides her phone from her pocket and tosses it at me. Luckily, I catch it and she goes right back to pounding on the doors and walls, hoping to get someone’s attention.

I find Jordan in Addison’s contacts. She answers immediately, her words as sharp and punchy as they always are before a show.

“Where are you?”

“Hi, Jordan,” I say. “It’s Harvey.”

“Where’s Addison? She’s on in three minutes.”

“Yeah, we know. We’re kinda… stuck.”

“Stuck?”

Addison whips around and takes her phone from me. “In the truck, Jordan,” she says. “Prissy locked us in and now we’re moving. I don’t know where! Find us! We can’t be that far away yet.”

I kick the door, but it doesn’t budge. I try to kick it again, but the truck lurches on uneven terrain and knocks me on my ass.

Ouch.

“Harvey!”

“I’m fine,” I say, sitting up on the floor. “Fucker’s shut tight, though.”

She mutters a few obscenities as she pounds some more on the door, but as the truck rolls onto smooth cement, I know it won’t do much good.

We’re not in the park anymore.

“Fuck!” Addison shouts as she gives the door another round of kicks with her boots. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Addison, calm down,” I say. “We’ll be okay.”

She ignores me and continues slamming her fists against the door.

“You’re gonna hurt your strum hand!”

That does it. Addison pulls her punches. She frustratingly gives the door one last kick before stepping back. She paces back and forth, obviously wanting to pummel the door even more, but she doesn’t. Slowly, her shoulders release and her arms hang by her side.

“Fuck,” she whispers.

I study her face, the light from my smartphone leaving pretty shadows over her features. Her bright brown hair and stunning blue eyes. Her frown lines and cheekbones. All of it suddenly so familiar. The truth suddenly so obvious.

“You’re Dade Connery’s daughter,” I say.

Addison slows her pace. She stares at the wall for a moment before glancing at me. “Yeah,” she says.

“Wow,” I say, my grin stretching wide. “That’s so awesome!”

“No, Harvey. It’s not.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before? You know how big a fan I am.”

“Because it’s not exactly something I advertise.”

“Why not? If my dad were a living legend, I’d shout it from the rooftops,” I say, my thoughts and fantasies running wild. “Makes sense now why you’re so good at guitar.”

“I’m good at guitar because I worked my ass off,” she says. “That man had nothing to do with it!”

I pause, taken aback by the anger in her voice. “Addison?—”

“Look, can we just…” She sighs. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“I…” I consider it, then shake my head. “No. Sorry, but I gotta talk about this right now.”

“Harvey—”

“What else are we gonna do?” I ask, gesturing at the truck. “So, come on. Talk to me. Please. Why did you keep this from me?”

“I didn’t keep it from you. I don’t talk about it. There’s a difference.”

“Okay. Why don’t you talk about it?”

Addison closes her eyes. A moment later, she exhales hard and lowers down to sit on the floor in front of me; her phone still clenched in one hand.

The truck gently shakes back and forth as we ride toward… who-knows-where.

“Growing up, I always wanted a dad,” Addison says. “Whenever I asked my mother about him, she’d go quiet or change the subject or tell me to go clean my room or something. I figured it was just a touchy subject, a sad memory. So I let it go. I didn’t think anything of it until one day, when I was sixteen, Dade Connery came through Las Vegas for what would become his last big tour.”

“I remember that tour,” I say, thinking back on it fondly. “I wanted to go so badly, but my stupid stepfather wouldn’t let me.”

“Bronson got us tickets,” she says. “I was so excited. I was such a huge fan back then. Who wasn’t?” She takes a breath. “I ran home from school that day to tell my mom. But she went really quiet and told me she didn’t want me to go. I asked why not, but she wouldn’t say. I kept asking and begging to go. And… that’s when she told me.”

I say nothing as I try to put myself in those shoes. To come home from school one day and be told that my father was a rich and famous rockstar?

I’d literally die.

“At first, I was thrilled,” Addison continues. “Then, I said I wanted to meet him, but she said no. She said I wasn’t allowed to go at all, that meeting him would be a huge mistake. On the night of the concert, I snuck out and went anyway.”

I nod. I’d do the same thing.

“Bronson got us backstage, somehow. And there he was. The great Dade Connery.” She pauses, scoffing softly. “The first thing he did was hit on me. When I explained who I actually was, he denied it. I mentioned my mother, and he called security and had us thrown out.” She looks down. “The next day, I came home from school to find my mother crying. Turns out, when she got pregnant, he tried to make her get rid of me, but she refused. He didn’t want yet another one of his love child leaking to the press, so he made her a deal. He’d send her money as long as she kept her mouth shut as to who my real father was.”

I frown, not wanting to believe a word of it. There’s a sharp urge to argue with her, as if she’d intentionally slandered a close friend of mine.

Dade would never do that.

Your mother is a liar.

He’s a good man.

Addison looks up in my silence. “After what happened at the concert, Dade sent his lawyers. Since my mother failed to keep quiet, he considered that a breach in their agreement and decided he wasn’t going to send her money anymore. She, of course, threatened to go public if he did, but I guess his lawyers had some dirt on her. Something from her showgirl days she didn’t want out there. I don’t know what. She never said.” Addison takes a breath, deep and slow. “Anyway, she blamed me for everything and kicked me out. Bronson’s family took me in. I haven’t spoken to her since.”

My heart clenches.

Dade would never do that.

You’re a liar.

He’s a…

“So, yes.” Addison exhales hard, her sharp eyes locked on mine. “Dade Connery is my father. No, it’s not something I’m proud of. And I would appreciate it if you would keep that information to yourself.”

I pause, feeling the weight of that request on my shoulders. I spent so much time looking up Addison on the internet and never caught even a whisper of this anywhere. It’s crazy that this has never leaked before.

“If you didn’t want me to know, then why did you call him Dad?” I ask.

“Just slipped out,” she says, regretfully. “In the moment, I just wanted to piss him off. He didn’t look too happy to see me, so I guess it worked.”

“No one else knows about this?”

“Bronson does,” she says. “And now you. And Jordan, probably.”

“And August.”

“Yeah. Great.” She looks up, glaring at the walls of our rolling prison. “What were you doing with him?”

“With Dade?” I ask.

She nods.

“Jordan got me a meeting,” I say. “I just wanted to meet him, but he asked me to play him something since I wasn’t in the festival.” My fingers tingle, the feel of holding Rapture still present on them. “I played Blue Eyes and… he liked it. A lot.”

“Of course he did,” she says. “It’s a great song.”

“He invited me to a thing at his place in Nashville next week.”

Addison stares at me, unblinking. “Are you going?”

“I…” I hesitate as every muscle in my body tightens, as every dream I’ve ever dreamed sits within reach. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. Addison, you have to understand. This is my chance. This is what I’ve been waiting for my entire life.”

“There will be other chances.”

“Maybe for you,” I say. “You’re friends with billionaires. I’m not. I’m nobody from nowhere. I can’t just turn down an opportunity like this.”

“He abandoned me, Harvey.”

“Did he, though? Because it sounds like he kept you pretty well funded until your mother spilled the beans.”

Addison tilts back. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Sending money doesn’t make him a good father. He was never there. Not for me or any of the other numerous love children he probably has around the world.”

“So what?”

“So what?”

“Yeah. So what? You grew up without a dad. A lot of people don’t.”

Her face hardens. “Okay, Harvey?—”

“I grew up with a dad and you know what that was like? Be a man, Harvey. Why aren’t you trying out for football, Harvey? What the hell are you doing up there playing with your guitar all day? What are you, gay?”

“Harvey, if you love me at all, you won’t go.”

I pause as bits of my heart shatter to pieces. “That’s not fair,” I say.

“Why not?” she asks.

“Because he’s my hero.”

“And knowing who he really is doesn’t change that?”

“I… I’m sorry, but I don’t think it does.”

She looks at me, her eyes big and hurt. Then, she sits taller, the sadness in her eyes turning to anger as she pushes up to her knees. “Thanks for reminding me why I don’t date musicians, Harvey.”

“Oh, get over yourself,” I spit as she stands.

She stares me down. “Excuse me?”

“This is the most important day of my life, and all you can do is make it about you. From where I’m sitting, if you loved me at all, you’d congratulate me. But you don’t. You don’t actually care about me.”

“That’s not true,” she says, but her eyes tilt away.

“You clearly don’t care about my career. I want to be more than just Opening Act. I want to be good enough for you, Addison. This is how I get there.”

“You don’t have to be some big rock god to be with me, Harvey,” she says.

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. I love you just the way you are.”

“Do you?”

Addison goes quiet.

“Do you?” I ask again. “Then, say it. Do you love me?”

“I though…” Her whisper fades, the words lost beneath the rumble of the truck.

I stand up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t quite catch that. Do you love me, Addison Abbey?”

“I thought I did,” she repeats.

“But not anymore?”

“Are you going to meet Dade in Nashville?”

“Yes,” I answer.

“Then, no,” she says. “I don’t love you anymore.”

I scoff. “It’s that easy, huh?”

“I guess it is.”

“Then, babe, I guess I don’t love you anymore, either.”

Addison bites down hard as her phone rings. She turns away from me and answers it sharply. “What?”

I shift backward until my shoulders touch the wall, not really caring to listen.

“What?” she says again, this time much softer. “They can’t do that. Can they?”

With closed eyes, I pretend not to care.

I pretend with all my might that my heart isn’t broken.

Addison sighs. “All right. Yeah… No, we’re… I’m okay. I just… I’m so sorry, Jordan.”

I look at her, unable to keep up the charade. She lowers the phone and leans against the opposite wall, her head collapsing back.

“What is it?” I ask, my curiosity breaking the silence.

Addison stares at the ceiling, the walls. Anywhere but me. “We lost our slot,” she says.

“Why? They can’t just wait?” I ask. “You’ve technically been kidnapped.”

She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. The Electrics are already playing in our absence.”

“The Electrics? But they already played their slot.”

“Well, their beloved crowd is enjoying quite an encore as we speak,” she says. “Apparently, Logan is milking it for all he can; getting the crowd to chant Criminal Fuckers as they play.”

I frown. “What a dick.”

“Yeah,” she says as she kicks the wall. “What a dick.”

“Well, I guess we know now why they wanted you guys at the festival so badly,” I say.

“You think they planned to kidnap one of us so they could play the hero and damage our reputation?”

“I think Logan and his hate-boner for Knox and would do exactly that.”

“Well…” Addison swallows hard. “I think we made that plenty easy for him.”

She pushes off the wall and crosses the truck in an obvious move to get as far away from me as possible.

I step closer, every instinct telling me to comfort her. “Addison…”

“Harvey.” She holds up her hand. “Please don’t touch me.”

I back off.

“Don’t talk, either,” she says, averting her eyes. “Just… leave me alone. Please.”

I nod. I don’t like it, but I nod. “I’m sorry,” I say anyway.

Addison doesn’t respond. She turns away, facing the wall as she uses her phone.

Yeah.

Best day of my life.