Page 124 of Pretty Poisoned
"You're the closest," River says to Hazel.
She pulls herself out of bed and opens the door.
"We're going to play tonight," Rhett says, "without Luca. The label has someone who can fill in; we'll have to change the set a bit, so we'll need to leave here in about an hour. Get ready."
"And then what?" Hazel asks.
He shrugs. "The lawyers are taking care of it. Hopefully, it'll all be sorted out tomorrow."
"I'm going back to my room," I say. "I'll see you guys later."
I pass Rhett in the doorway and then cross over to the other room.
"Hey, are you okay?" Declan asks. He stands and crosses the room, pulling me into his arms. "I'm sorry about your sister, sweetheart."
"It's okay," I lie.
"Go get ready, okay? We need to leave soon."
"I don't want to go," I tell him. "I want to stay here with Luca."
He looks from me to Luca; he's sitting on the couch, eyes glazed over like he's been drinking for hours already. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
He narrows his eyes. "You'll be okay?"
"Of course, she'll be okay. What the fuck do you think is going to happen to her?"
"I don't really care what happens to me," I say.
"That's exactly what I'm fucking worried about, Teagan," Declan says. He taps his finger to my temple. "I'm worried about what's in here."
"I'm fine."
He sighs. "If you need anything, you text me."
"She'll be fine—Jesus," Luca says.
"You'd think you'd maybe shut the fuck up while I clean up your fucking mess."
"I will," I tell Declan, doing my best to force a smile.
He kisses me on the forehead, then steps around me toward his bedroom. I sigh and sit on the couch beside Luca.
"What are they going to do?" I ask.
"Teag…"
"I can handle it. Tell me."
"Um, the label put out a statement that they're looking into it and that I won't be performing with the band tonight. After the set's over, their lawyers will release a statement saying that…it didn't happen—that she and I were using drugs, and I underwent treatment during that break in the tour—and file a lawsuit. They're pretty sure they can convince Heidi to recant, and then the magazine will have to print a retraction."
"How?" I ask. "Money? Threats?"
"A little bit of both."
"Okay."
