Waiting.
Feeling it coming—the need to tear something or someone apart.
He looked me square in the face. “I had no idea who your girl was, Baz. But yesterday morning when we got the pics, I couldn’t shake the feeling she looked familiar. About halfway through the day, it finally dawned on me she was Delaney Rhoads. I was tied up in knots wondering if she was playing you…stringing you along as a way to get back into the business, wondering how in the hell I was going to break it to you because I knew how messed up you were over her.”
“What?” I gripped my hair. “Fuck…no, Anthony. It’s not anything like that. She doesn’t want anyone to know who she is.”
Relief slid across his features, but his words were filled with speculation. “Are you sure you really know this girl? You really trust her?”
Anger surged at the insinuation, but I curbed it. Anthony was only looking out for the band. Looking out for me. I knew that well enough. Just like I knew Shea.
“Yes,” I said without an ounce of hesitation.
Anthony chewed at his lip.
“Tell me.” I’d known him long enough to know when he was holding back.
Regret radiated from him as he began to speak. “I first stumbled upon Charlie’s years ago, back when Angie and I first bought this house. Charlie was a cool guy, plus I was still looking for clients back then, so I made it a habit of going whenever I knew there would be a new band playing.”
Clearly uncomfortable, he cleared his throat, sending a round of agitation curling through me.
“This woman…she was always hanging out there with the bands. Gorgeous, but she gave off the vibe she was looking for someone to sink her claws into. At first I thought she was some kind of groupie. You know the type, desperate for any kind of attention, any kind of fame, even if it meant she was getting it from the small, unknown bands playing there. I think it was probably the third time I saw her when Charlie finally introduced her as his sister.”
Shit.
I rubbed my hand across my mouth as if it could wipe away the bitter taste.
Shea’s mom.
Someone I knew absolutely nothing about.
Shea never talked about her. The mystery surrounding her another fucking secret.
All I had were the hints and innuendos Shea had alluded to last night, and this story didn’t do anything to quell the flickers of hate igniting for a woman I’d never even met.
Anthony continued, “There didn’t seem to be a whole lot of love lost between her and Charlie, but still, she and I chatted over the next couple times I ran into her, even though I remained leery. I didn’t want to give her the wrong impression, because I definitely wasn’t out looking for someone to step out on my Angie with.”
He hesitated, then shook his head as he lowered his voice. “She wasn’t looking for sex, Baz. She was looking for a way to get her daughter’s foot in the door. The first couple of times she talked about her, I humored her. Talked with her a little about the business. But I didn’t give it a whole lot of thought. One night she convinced me to listen to a demo. The girl’s voice on the recording was…unbelievable. There’s no other way to describe it. I would have snatched her up in a heartbeat, but Chloe was already acting as her agent.”
“Chloe?” I asked.
“Charlie’s sister…Delaney Rhoads’s mother. Shea’s mother,” he amended a bit quieter, like he was catching on to how little I really knew about Shea.
I bit back the hostile laughter that worked its way up.
Nice.
They were on a first-name basis.
He shrugged, though it was laced with remorse. “I figured, what the hell could it hurt? I never wanted to be one of those guys who only did things to benefit himself, so I sent her to Jennings. That was right when I first began working with him. Back before I knew the kind of trash he was.”