I answer the phone now with a sigh, not relishing this conversation. “Hey, Tally.”
“What’s the verdict?” Tally doesn’t even bother with a greeting.
“I’m stuck in Chicago for three months,” I tell him. “Community service. Then six months probation. If I’m a good boy, my record will be wiped clean.”
Tally erupts into a string of swear words that would make any sailor or truck driver cringe. I hold the phone away from my ear until he’s finished.
Finally, he takes a deep breath, calming himself somewhat.
“Fuck. This is bullshit, Dominic. The studio is going to be furious. Not only is this going to fuck with the schedule, they hired you in part based on your reputation. You aren’t a troublemaker. You’re a mysterious, sexy star. You keep things private, which keeps people guessing about you. This… this fucks with that. Everyone is going to assume that you’re an addict now, and that’s not the image that we’re trying to convey. I’ve got your publicists already on it, trying to spin it for you. But be prepared. News of this has already hit the web.
“Also, you’ve got to see if you can at least come home on the weekends. Maybe they can work in some scenes then. Find out if that’s a possibility and then call me back. I’ll hold off calling the studio until I hear from you.”
I don’t bother pointing out that the studio won’t be happy about going over budget by working the crew on weekend hours. He knows that. He hangs up without another word, and I let my head fall against the wall behind me as I stare at the ceiling.
I can feel Jacey looking at me.
“Will you get fired?” she asks hesitantly. I sigh.
“Maybe you should’ve worried about that before you brought pot into my car.”
I stare at her, hard, and she doesn’t flinch.
“It wasn’t mine,” she answers coldly, then she turns her face away and doesn’t say another word. I almost believe her. To be fair, it’s hard to know who might’ve gotten into my car. With all of the people in and out of Sin’s house, it could’ve been anyone.
The bailiff emerges finally and approaches us with a handful of papers.
“You’ll both be serving your community service at Joe’s Gladiators, a youth center here in the city. Joe Hudson will be your supervisor. He’s the owner of the place. Every week, he has to sign one of these for you.”
The bailiff hands us each a bright yellow paper.
“It’s like a report card. Joe will fill it out and sign it. If you fail to appear for work, if you do a bad job, if you don’t do what is asked of you… in fact, if you sneeze wrong, Joe can refuse to sign it. It’s in your best interest to keep him happy. Judge Kumarowski doesn’t fool around, and if you have to reappear, he won’t be lenient. On the other hand, if you do exceptionally well, he’ll reward you for your good behavior by expunging this charge from your permanent record and removing your six months’ probation period.”
The bailiff stares at us both firmly. “Any questions?”
Jacey shakes her head, but I hold up a finger. “Will it be possible for me to go home on the weekends to work?”
The bailiff scribbles something on his paper. “I’ll check with the judge and get back to you. It’ll probably be fine. Anything else?”
Jacey and I shake our heads.
“Good. You’re free to go. You should both report to Joe’s by ten A.M. on Monday.”
I feel like I have an instant steel manacle snapped to my ankle. Someone to check in with, report to, and, most important, someone to keep me in Chicago.
Fuck.
The hulking blond guy descends upon Jacey, patting her shoulder, and I push away from the wall and head down the hall. I can feel Jacey’s stare beating into my shoulder blades, but I ignore it. She should be paying attention to her boyfriend, not me. But like every other woman out there, she’s attracted to me because of who I am.
God, I hate that shit. For a brief moment, I remember the way she’d looked at me from her jail cell… so soft and trusting and open. Like she was oblivious to my name and it was just her and me standing there.
But that was a lie. She knows full well who I am, and that’s what she’s attracted to. She’s no different from anyone else.
With a sigh I make my way down the dingy stairs, and as I glance outside I see the reporters waiting. I stand still for a second, dreading this, but there’s no way around it.
I pull up the hood of my sweatshirt and duck outside.
They descend like vultures, with their microphones shoved in my face, their flashbulbs popping, and their cameras rolling.
Is it true that you’ve got a drug problem, Dominic?
Are you going to rehab?
Who’s the blond girl, Dominic? Is she your girlfriend?
How will this affect your upcoming film?
I ignore them all, shoving through the crowd, and for a minute I regret not bringing security with me. What the hell was I thinking?
My security detail is back home in Hollywood, but Sin had offered me his… and I’d turned him down. I just wanted to get in and out of here today with as little fuss as possible. It’s why I told Sin and Duncan not to come. It’s bad enough if one of us goes somewhere. But if we go together, the circus around us is ridiculous.
I duck into the crowded sidewalk and lose myself in the people, jogging down the street until I can no longer hear the snaps of the cameras and the chattering reporters. It takes a while, but finally I find myself alone in the quiet solitude of a Chicago alleyway.
I slump against the grimy wall, staring around at the trash, the graffiti, the grayness of the city. Even in the midst of spring, downtown Chicago seems dismal and gray. It might be home, but quite honestly, I would rather be anywhere but here.
I take a deep breath of city smells and then release it.
I’m here now. I’ll be here for the next three months. I can’t control that so there’s only one thing to do.
Suck it up.
As I lay sprawled in a chair in Sin’s theater room, I make a gun out of my fingers and point it at my head as my mother lectures into my ear. It had taken exactly two hours for her to see the courthouse footage online. Why didn’t you wear a tie? Why must you wear those horrible hoodies?
From across the room, Sin laughs as he flips through channels on the behemoth TV hanging in front of us. He’s dressed only in a pair of tattered jeans that look like he slept in them. Once again, he’s not wearing a shirt.
“Dominic James Kinkaide.” My mother sighs into my ear. “I can’t believe you have a criminal record. I honestly can’t. Your father is going to be so upset.”
“Oh, Dad is going to be upset?” I ask, my lip twitching. “Not you at all, right? It’s all Dad?”
It’s a joke in our family. My mother always blames everything on my father. Things worry him sick, he loses sleep over us, etc. It’s all him, not her. It’s funny, because he’s the most laid-back person I know. Dad has been a producer in the music industry since before I was born. He’s got nerves of steel. To blame all the worry on him is asinine, but none of us kids ever call her on it.
Mom sighs. “What are you going to do? You can’t stay with Sin. The two of you will just get into even more trouble. You’d better come home. I’ll get your room ready for you here.”
I think of my childhood home, Castle Kinkaide, a large replica of a Scottish castle perched in the middle of ten acres right outside of Chicago. It’s quirky and original, just like my family. And while I love my childhood home and my family, having my mom in my business or listening to Fiona lecture me about Cris for the next ninety days isn’t gonna happen.
“Thanks for the offer, Mom. But I’m good here. I might even rent my own condo if Sin doesn’t start wearing clothes. We’ll see. But everything will be fine. Don’t worry. And tell Dad not to worry.”
Sin snorts. “Is Dad worried sick?” He cracks up and my mom sighs.
“Sinclair Alec Kinkaide,” she snaps, even though my brother can’t hear her. “That’s enough out of you.”
I waggle my eyebrows at Sin, before I return my attention to mom.
“I love you, Mom. I’ll come out and see you soon.”
I hang up and sink glumly into the leather cushions of the chair.
“Cheer up,” Sin chirps. “I’ll put one of your movies on to make you feel better.”
I roll my eyes because he knows I hate to watch my own movies. “You’re way too happy about my current set of circumstances.”
He grins. “I’m just happy to not be the only Kinkaide with a record. Thanks for that. Mom can split her lectures between the two of us now.”
“Glad to be of help,” I mutter. “And at least I kept my crime spree on US soil. I’m pretty sure you’re banned from the Netherlands.”
Sin rolls his eyes, but then his expression suddenly changes.
“Did you talk to Fiona?” he asks, somewhat hesitantly. “Or just Mom?”
I clench my jaw. “No, I didn’t fucking talk to Fiona. It’s bullshit that she’s dating Cris. And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about it. You let me fucking find out on my own.”
Sin shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Dom. I didn’t realize that they were coming to the party or I would’ve told you. They didn’t know you were in town. But dude, Cris has changed. I don’t know what he did to piss you off so fucking much, but the guy’s changed a lot since you graduated high school. You should at least talk to him. Six years is a long time, bro. A lot can happen.”
“Yeah?” I arch an eyebrow. “People don’t change. Not really. They can pretend, they can move on, they can do lots of shit, but to actually reach down into their soul and change the person they are? That’s impossible. And Cris has a black fucking soul. Fiona shouldn’t be with him.”
I tap my phone against my leg in agitation, staring at Sin. He stares back.
“I don’t know what to tell you, dude. You can’t control her, she’s as stubborn as you are. But that trait comes in handy now that she’s working for the band. She’ll be the best manager we ever had.”
I scowl. “Which doesn’t do me one bit of good. Unless, as her boss, you can send her to LA or something while I’m here?”
Sin shakes his head with a grin. “Sorry, dude. I need her here. She’s working with Tally to put together our next tour. Besides, with her here and you here, maybe you can hash all of this out once and for all. Plus, as an added bonus, you’ll get to hear all of the details from Duncan’s love life. Trust me, it’s not boring.”
“Jesus.” I roll my eyes. “This is why I don’t come back all that often. It’s always like a fucking soap opera in this family.”
Sin shakes his head, turning his head back to the television.
“Welcome home, bro.”
Chapter Six
Dominic
I stick my hand out from under the covers and flip off the sun. Actually, I’m flipping off the entire day. Nothing good ever comes from a Monday.