“But how come no one knew until now about your real identity?”
“My mom home-schooled me. So other than a few friends, who I trust with my life”—I glanced at Hailey—“no one remembered me by the time we signed with the record label.” Same deal with the kids I used to play soccer with when I was younger. I’d changed enough over the years that they didn’t recognize Tyler Erickson as the same lanky kid who’d been on their soccer team.
“So the record label doesn’t even know?” he asked.
I cringed. “They know. They did a background check before they signed us. They couldn’t find a single mention about my life. Nothing. They asked me about it and I told them.”
“And they didn’t have an issue with it?”
“It’s not like I’m the first musician to use a different name from what they were born with. They just wanted to make sure I hadn’t been involved in anything illegal. They understood my need to protect my privacy. And that I wanted to be known for my music, not because of what my father did.”
“You could’ve told me. I would’ve understood and wouldn’t have told anyone.”
“I know.” And I did. “But I’d kept it a secret for so long, I was used to being Tyler Erickson. As far as I was concerned, Nolan didn’t exist anymore.” I looked at Hailey, my gaze absorbing everything about her, including the part where we were still naked. “Or he didn’t exist until recently.”
She smiled softly at me, understanding what I meant.
“So what’re you going to do?” Jared asked.
“Right now I have no idea. Other than writing songs for the album, my only concern is the reason I came here originally.” And for the first time since coming to Northbridge, I told Jared the truth.
“I can’t leave until I know she’s safe,” I finished.
“And what if the cops can’t solve it before you’re due back here? Then what?”
“I’ll figure it out if it comes to that.”
“Fine. Just make sure that whatever’s going on down there, you don’t get caught up in it, okay?” Jared said. “And don’t do anything stupid…” He left the warning hanging, leaving me to fill in the blanks. Don’t get yourself into deeper trouble with the media than you’re already in.
Don’t get yourself killed.
Chapter 25
Hailey
The best part of doing something meaningful to you is that it steals you away from all your problems. Even for just a few minutes a day, it fills you with a joy that can’t be found anywhere else and gives you a passion to keep going when you feel like the world is conspiring against you.
Or, in my case, my feelings for Nolan were conspiring against me.
I walked out of the gym where I’d been helping the physical therapist with the kids with special needs. The more I worked with them, the more I knew this was the area I wanted to specialize in when I became a therapist. It might not mean the same as music meant to Nolan, but it came pretty darn close.
Dad had sent me a text to check if Nolan and I were okay now that the news about Tyler Erickson’s true identity was out. He’d been skillfully fielding questions at the hospital, where he worked as a surgeon, ever since Nolan had been spotted coming out of my room. In many ways, Dad had always been more of a father to Nolan than Nolan’s own father had been.
“Oh my God, isn’t that Tyler Erickson?” a female voice shrieked from behind me as I was about to respond to my father’s text, the sound rivaling that of a cat whose tail had been stepped on. Cringing, I glanced over my shoulder.
Everyone around us stopped walking, searching for their golden rock star. Once they spotted him, a handful of squealing college-age girls rushed him. A few other girls showed a little more restraint, but they too joined the small crowd fangirling over Nolan.
As I approached the group, Lindsey, who worked in the sports center part-time, looked at her phone and then over my shoulder. Her eyes narrowed.
I turned to see what she was looking at. A tall, good-looking man strode toward us, and for a moment I thought it was Nolan’s father. The similarities between the two were so overwhelming that I shuddered unexpectedly.
But this wasn’t Nolan’s father. He was dead.
“Who is that?” I asked her.
“My stepfather…I’ve gotta go.” She hurried over to him.
I watched them walk away. He said a few words and she laughed. I would be hard pressed to remember a time when Nolan had laughed at something his father said.
“How was work?” Nolan asked. His fans hung on his every word. I swore a couple even sighed. But none melted into a puddle like I tended to do whenever I heard his voice, their hearts not as screwed up as mine. Lucky them.
“Good,” I told him, and walked away from the group, not caring if Nolan followed me or not. I needed to get away from his fans. They had nothing to do with me.
Nolan reached for my hand and stopped me. “Hey, where’re you going?”
“Home.” I glanced back at his fans, some of whom still watched him, debating whether they should trail after him.