sit. “Come talk to me. We’ll discuss the upcoming lawsuit later.”
He turns his back to me and stares out at the water. “Tell them to let Jelly in and I’ll talk.”
“Jelly’s not here.”
“Yeah, I know. She’s in the bedroom waiting for me. Bring her here and I’ll talk.”
“No, I mean she’s not on the boat. She’s still on the dock.”
He spins around and looks at me like I’m crazy. “What?”
“She wasn’t invited. She’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”
He slowly shakes his head at me, biting his lower lip as he walks over. It’s impressive how he goes from flaming pissed to deviously angry. “You are something else, you know that?” He walks around my chair until he’s in front of the couch. Dropping down to sit on the edge of the cushions, he points a finger at me. “I don’t know how you managed to brainwash Mel and Zach, but you’re not going to get away with that shit. There’s laws against taking people against their will.”
I nod. “Hopefully once you hear me out, you’ll decide not to sue.”
He leans back, lacing his hands behind his head and letting his legs drop to the sides. I have a straight-on view of his crotch, and I’m glad his board shorts are so long that they cover up things that would normally be revealed in this kind of pose. He pulses his pelvis up once, either to get comfortable or to make me nervous. I suspect the latter when I see him give me a lascivious smirk right after.
I yank my attention back to why I’m here, hoping he doesn’t notice my ears going red. “Thank you, Tarin. Really, I appreciate you giving me a chance to explain.”
He says nothing. He just stares me down, trying to intimidate me or too busy keeping a rein on his anger to respond, it’s hard to tell which.
“I’ve been hired by Mel and your label to help you get your life back under control.”
His nostrils flare but that’s the only sign I have that he’s heard me. It’s like he’s attempting to stare holes into my face the way his gaze never falters and his expression stays so serious. I wonder when I’m almost under his thrall like this why no one calls him Terror instead of Tear-it-up. It seems a more appropriate nickname. I’m not afraid of him; I’m more afraid of what he could make me do than anything. I have a feeling he can be very convincing when he wants to be. It’s probably what’s gotten him in all this trouble in the first place. I can picture him being hard to say no to.
“I’ve worked with several other artists in the same situation you’re in right now. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve lost your way. I’ve talked to Ricky and Zach and Leonard along with your bandmates, and they all tell me the same things.”
Tarin shifts in his seat, but otherwise gives me no indication of what he’s thinking.
“You’re incredibly talented and a nice person. You like to play practical jokes, you’ll give a friend the shirt off your back, you loan money you never expect to get back. You’re generous and fun loving and you used to be happy-go-lucky.”
As I shift gears, I can see it’s having an effect on him. He drops his arms to his sides, still staring at me. I continue. “But now you’re angry a lot. You’re taking drugs that you know aren’t good for you or your music. You’re hanging out with users, people who don’t care about you. You’re not healthy. You blew off your grandfather’s birthday last month, and you didn’t even visit Dave in the hospital after he overdosed. And you were there when it happened. You didn’t stop him when you could have.”
Tarin’s uncomfortable now, breaking his gaze away to look at the walls and floor. His legs twitch, his knees going towards each other and apart, over and over.
“You’re using women who don’t know any better than to throw themselves at you, you’re treating
He turns his back to me and stares out at the water. “Tell them to let Jelly in and I’ll talk.”
“Jelly’s not here.”
“Yeah, I know. She’s in the bedroom waiting for me. Bring her here and I’ll talk.”
“No, I mean she’s not on the boat. She’s still on the dock.”
He spins around and looks at me like I’m crazy. “What?”
“She wasn’t invited. She’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”
He slowly shakes his head at me, biting his lower lip as he walks over. It’s impressive how he goes from flaming pissed to deviously angry. “You are something else, you know that?” He walks around my chair until he’s in front of the couch. Dropping down to sit on the edge of the cushions, he points a finger at me. “I don’t know how you managed to brainwash Mel and Zach, but you’re not going to get away with that shit. There’s laws against taking people against their will.”
I nod. “Hopefully once you hear me out, you’ll decide not to sue.”
He leans back, lacing his hands behind his head and letting his legs drop to the sides. I have a straight-on view of his crotch, and I’m glad his board shorts are so long that they cover up things that would normally be revealed in this kind of pose. He pulses his pelvis up once, either to get comfortable or to make me nervous. I suspect the latter when I see him give me a lascivious smirk right after.
I yank my attention back to why I’m here, hoping he doesn’t notice my ears going red. “Thank you, Tarin. Really, I appreciate you giving me a chance to explain.”
He says nothing. He just stares me down, trying to intimidate me or too busy keeping a rein on his anger to respond, it’s hard to tell which.
“I’ve been hired by Mel and your label to help you get your life back under control.”
His nostrils flare but that’s the only sign I have that he’s heard me. It’s like he’s attempting to stare holes into my face the way his gaze never falters and his expression stays so serious. I wonder when I’m almost under his thrall like this why no one calls him Terror instead of Tear-it-up. It seems a more appropriate nickname. I’m not afraid of him; I’m more afraid of what he could make me do than anything. I have a feeling he can be very convincing when he wants to be. It’s probably what’s gotten him in all this trouble in the first place. I can picture him being hard to say no to.
“I’ve worked with several other artists in the same situation you’re in right now. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve lost your way. I’ve talked to Ricky and Zach and Leonard along with your bandmates, and they all tell me the same things.”
Tarin shifts in his seat, but otherwise gives me no indication of what he’s thinking.
“You’re incredibly talented and a nice person. You like to play practical jokes, you’ll give a friend the shirt off your back, you loan money you never expect to get back. You’re generous and fun loving and you used to be happy-go-lucky.”
As I shift gears, I can see it’s having an effect on him. He drops his arms to his sides, still staring at me. I continue. “But now you’re angry a lot. You’re taking drugs that you know aren’t good for you or your music. You’re hanging out with users, people who don’t care about you. You’re not healthy. You blew off your grandfather’s birthday last month, and you didn’t even visit Dave in the hospital after he overdosed. And you were there when it happened. You didn’t stop him when you could have.”
Tarin’s uncomfortable now, breaking his gaze away to look at the walls and floor. His legs twitch, his knees going towards each other and apart, over and over.
“You’re using women who don’t know any better than to throw themselves at you, you’re treating
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