Liam being so mobile was downright dangerous.
She shook her glass, and her lonely ice cubes rattled. Empty
already and there were hours left to go before they reached their destination, Noronha. She’d seen the pictures and knew it was
the definition of paradise, but it truly was at the far edge of the world. They’d be staying for seven glorious days of isolated
beaches marred only by a few mandatory wedding obligations.
Fury’s drummer David had timed his wedding to his Brazilian
model fiancé wisely. Fury had finished Rage, and the label said
it would drop in four weeks. Fury weren’t scheduled to start
touring Asia for eight weeks. The band had time to celebrate
with David and Yara and still have some down time to decom-
press before heading back out on the road.
Cheyenne dreaded the thought of dragging Liam out on
tour, but the thought of Scot being away from them for weeks on
end was more than she could deal with. Adam had been steadily
sending her more assignments, and she’d been working like a
dog. So if this far flung wedding meant time at Brazil’s most
beautiful beach with her two boys, she was game. She kissed
Liam’s cheek and headed into the lion’s den. As she stood, she
shot an unhappy sideways glance at her twenty-one-year-old
nanny, Kara, who was chatting up Fury’s manager and his wife.
Kara’s Barbie doll hair and perky body incensed Cheyenne al-
most as much as her cheerful smile and overly friendly disposi-
tion did.
She was still scowling when she took a seat across from Na-
than, Bret, and Nathan’s frightening new lady friend.
“If all the festivities are bothering you, Cheyenne, perhaps
you should have stayed home.” Nathan cocked an eyebrow at
42
RAGE
her. Cheyenne merely held her glass out to him. Time spent with
Nathan was like breaking in a new pair of shoes. Expensive and
always rubbing her the wrong way.
“Shut up and pour me a drink.” Cheyenne instructed, and
Nathan’s girlfriend sat back with a coy smile and crossed her
impossibly long legs.
“Ooo…bossy,” Saffron cooed, and Cheyenne barely
glanced at her. Nathan had been running around with Saffron for
a couple of months. Her outrageous behavior had been off-
putting at first, but Cheyenne was starting to understand how she ticked. Saffron had a sassy blonde bob, Cheshire-like grin, and a collar that matched her studded fuck-me stilettos. Tall and commanding, she seemed to be way too “into” everyone she encoun-
tered. It was obvious by the way he tolerated her behavior that
she had Nathan wrapped tightly around her pinkie finger.
When they were first boarding the plane at Heathrow, Saf-
fron’s fingers had been wandering all over her husband, Scot.
He’d been stowing his bass in the overhead compartment, and
Saffron had been murmuring softly to him about his instrument.
Cheyenne plucked Saffron’s hand off her husband’s chest.
“Keep this to yourself if you’re attached to it,” Cheyenne
instructed her in an icy manner. When she looked to Scot for
support, he simply shrugged and flashed his crooked toothpaste
commercial smile. At the time, Cheyenne had wanted to back-
hand him. Now Saffron’s attentions seemed to be focused on
her. Cheyenne repositioned herself so her knees were out of arm’s reach.
“Where’s Phil? Phillip! Kersey!” Bret shouted toward the
back of the plane. Phillip’s head poked out from behind the
seats. As always, he was in the back row. He yanked off his sun-
glasses and ear buds, curiosity dominating his bronze features.
“Bret, would you kindly shut the hell up?” Cheyenne mur-
mured as she gestured to Liam and Scot. Bret stared at her wide
eyed, his mouth forming the shape of an O.
43
TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE
“Oh…shhhhh…sorry!” he stage whispered and turned back
to Phillip. “Come have a drink, Phil!”
Phillip waved a non-committal hand at him. He ran a hand
through his thick, short hair, readjusting his ear buds and resum-ing his antisocial position out of sight.
“Do you remember when he used to be fun?” Nathan re-
marked, and Bret nodded emphatically.
“Yeah. You used to be fun, Phillip. He used to have long
hair, too.” He continued in his ridiculous stage whisper. He
looked at Nathan’s hair with sad eyes. “So did you. Why does
everything have to change?”
“Bret. Maybe you should lie down and take a little nap,”
Cheyenne suggested. She was on the verge of grasping hold of
his “long” ponytailed hair and swinging him around by it. Maybe
that would get him queued up for a haircut as well.
“So what’s with tall, blonde, and broody back there?” Saf-
fron nodded her head in Phillip’s direction. Cheyenne, Bret, and Nathan all exchanged knowing eye rolls. Saffron noticed immediately and leaned forward.
“I sense a yummy story. Well, go on, then. Spill it.” She
pressed them, and Nathan snorted and topped off his drink again.
“Let’s see.” He thoughtfully tapped his chin, and his green
eyes twinkled with mischief. “Where to begin?”
“Phillip’s pissed because Yara and David invited his ex-
girlfriend to photograph their wedding,” Cheyenne stated in a
fairly diplomatic tone, all things considered.
“Ha!” Nathan exclaimed, shaking his spiky red streaked
hair. “That’s the understatement of the century.”
Bret cackled drunkenly from beneath his blanket.
Cheyenne downed her drink suddenly and slammed the
glass down on the table in front of Nathan. “I’m gonna need an-
other if we’re going to tell this story.”
Nathan winked at her and topped off her glass while Saffron
settled back into her seat. “It’s been what? About a year ago that 44
RAGE
Phillip proposed to Stephanie and she turned him away?”
Cheyenne nodded and Nathan proceeded. “Phillip didn’t
take it well.”
“No. That is the understatement of the century,” Cheyenne
retorted.
Nathan ignored the interruption. “He pulled a vanishing act.
I’m talking Elvis-style. We were in the middle of recording
Rage, and no one had any idea where he was—not even the tabloids. His security team went mental. His family did too, think-
ing he’d gone out somewhere and offed himself. They hired a
private detective. He found nothing. The label execs were posi-
tively rabid! I think they thought we were covering for him.
Then a few weeks later, he turns back up with all his hair buzzed off and a new tattoo on his chest. He had a stack of new songs
and was ready to work. No
