“But … I …” Alice splutters before being told to be quiet.
“I don’t have time for excuses anymore. I’m sorry, Alice, but we are terminating your employment with Dirty Texas Records.”
“What!” Alice stands on a screech. “You can’t fire me,” she hisses, and it sounds like a snake. “I’m going to sue.” She points her red nail-polished finger at Vanessa, who merely smiles.
“Oh, sweet girl. You do what you must.” Vanessa takes a step closer. “But just remember, I’ll do what I have to as well.”
“Is that a threat?” Alice blanches.
“I don’t make threats,” Vanessa tells her.
“Fuck you!” Alice throws the words at her with venom in her tone.
We snicker at the drama unfolding before our very eyes.
“Fuck you all too. Fucking shitty fucks, the lot of you,” Alice screams at us.
“Same goes to you, sweetheart,” Eli adds.
Alice goes to launch herself at Eli, but Vanessa and Isla pull her off, not before she can scratch his face. “Fuck you. Fuck you all.” Alice flays her hands around as security rushes into the conference room and takes over. “I’m going to make you all pay.”
And with that, the door slams shut.
“What the fuck are you all smiling at?” Vanessa turns to us, and the smiles on our faces drop quickly. “You are all on thin ice.” Vanessa glares, then moves over to the minibar and pulls out a water, taking a sip to compose herself. “Dirty Texas Records is a family. My family. When something happens to a family, we rally around them to make sure they are okay,” she tells us, placing two palms down and leaning against the conference table. “You are not alone in this,” she explains quietly. “I understand what you have all gone through.”
“How? How could you possibly understand?” Zeke breaks first, questioning her integrity. “You live a perfect life with your perfect family. You have no idea about the struggles we have gone through. The demons each of us try to quash daily.”
“Perfect life?” Vanessa scoffs. “You don’t know what’s happened in my life.”
Zeke rolls his eyes.
“Do you know how I met Christian?”
We all shake our heads.
“He saved me from being raped.”
Our eyes widen.
“Some man didn’t take no for an answer and attacked me.”
Well, I wasn’t expecting that.
“Years after that attack, I was attacked again. This time by my partner, a well-known footballer. He beat me to a pulp. I nearly didn’t survive.”
Shit. None of us had any idea Vanessa had gone through this.
“Then to top it all off, I was diagnosed with the BRCA gene. This meant that my chances of developing breast cancer were about eighty percent. So, I thought fuck it and chopped off my breasts.”
What the fuck?
My eyes fall to her chest—her boobs look amazing and real.
“We had no idea,” Zeke mumbles.
“Of course, you wouldn’t. I don’t yell from the rooftops the fucked-up shit that has happened to me because it doesn’t define me,” she tells us. “I refuse to give my power to those men or to cancer. I am the one in control of my life, no one else.” Her green eyes sparkle with emotion. “I don’t know the specifics of what has happened in your lives, but I know it’s fucked-up. Why are you giving these bastards all this power over you? How dare they get to dictate your life after all these years? How fucking dare they!” she yells, as a single tear falls down her cheek. She quickly swipes it off her skin. Vanessa steps away from the conference table, composing herself as she takes another sip of her water. “I refuse to let them control you anymore,” Vanessa says quietly.
We look around at each other, feeling like dicks because she’s so damn right. They don’t deserve to live rent-free in our minds, but it’s hard to shake their shackles.
“We’ll try,” I tell her honestly as I look at my bandmates, who nod in agreement.
Vanessa turns around in surprise and glances at us all one at a time. “You’ll try?” she asks cautiously.
“Brodie gave our foster dad too much power over h-him,” I explain. My words hitch in my throat as I say them. “I don’t want to be like that.”
Silence falls between us at my confession.
“Me either,” Eli agrees.
“Same here,” Zeke adds.
A smile lights Vanessa’s face. “Are you willing to accept our help?”
I nod. Maybe Vanessa’s right. We do need help. We can’t keep fending off the world by ourselves. “It’s hard for us to accept help as we’ve never been given it before.”
Vanessa’s face softens. “You’re part of the Dirty Texas family. You never have to be alone ever again. Each and every one of you is one of us.”
Family.
That word is a foreign concept to us.
We’ve never known what a caring family is like. We’ve never had anyone to rely on before except for the four of us. Maybe we should give Vanessa and her team a chance. Can’t make things worse than they already are. I look over at my boys, and they give me a reassuring nod.
They are in agreement.
“Okay. We’ll do whatever you need us to,” I tell Vanessa.
“You will?” Vanessa asks, surprised by our agreement.
“Yeah, we will.”
Vanessa rushes over and hugs me, surprising the shit out of me. This is not at all what I would expect from a hard-ass like Vanessa Taylor, but it’s nice. She moves along and hugs Eli and Zeke too, who look equally confused by the show of affection.
“I mean it when I say you’re part of the family here at Dirty Texas Records. No matter what, your well-being will always be paramount to us.” Vanessa’s eyes narrow as she glances between us. “You may not believe it, but the money is secondary to our label. The Dirty Texas boys have had, in the past, trouble with labels taking advantage of them, and they never want another band to go through that. No matter what, you can depend on the boys and this company to do what is right for you,” Vanessa explains.
She’s saying all the right words, and honestly, I believe her because they did everything in their power to help Brodie. When Brodie passed away, and we couldn’t function anymore, Vanessa and the label paid for Brodie’s funeral. They organized it all, and it was a beautiful and fitting farewell.
“We’ve had no one care,” Eli explains.
“It’s all new to us,” Zeke adds.
“These past six months, we’ve dropped the ball, and I’m sorry. We thought we needed to give you time to grieve and heal. The label has been growing quickly, so our focus has been pulled elsewhere. That will never happen again,” Vanessa reassures us.
None of this is her fault. We’ve been so wrapped up in our grief that nothing anyone could have done would have pulled us from it.
“Come have a barbecue at our place this weekend. I know it might not be as crazy as what you are used to, but I can assure you we all know how to have fun,” Vanessa says with a smile.
With a smile, I just say the one word, “Okay,” in answer for all of us.