Yesterday Read online

  *"In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present." Francis Bacon

  Copyright © 2020 Cleo Fox

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, real locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental or used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2020

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  Author note: If you’ve reached this far and haven’t seen my message on Facebook, please resync your kindle or kindle app, or go to Manage Your Content and Devices page and look for the “Update Available” button in the far right column next to this book.

  I’m sorry. When I first planned this book, my life was hectic but I thought I could finish it and things wouldn’t get harder. Long, long story short, life looked at me and said. “Hold my beer.” Needless to say, 2020 has made the last three years feel like a walk in a park. The finished version of this will be uploaded on the night of the 23rd, which means some UK and AU readers will be getting this message while most US readers won’t. I’m sorry. I don’t have preorder anymore for the next year, so this won’t be happening again, all future books will be live dropped and I will no longer be giving dates for anything, because it seems like everytime I do, something insane happens two days before.

  For reference, the finished version will have 17 chapters. Once again, I’m so sorry. Please let me know if you have any issues getting the updated version. I’ll be contacting Amazon to do a wide push update, but it can take several days.

  *"In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present." Francis Bacon

  Chapter One

  Evie

  The cursor blinks at me from the blank page. Like it has for the last six months, and if I'm honest, the six months before that. When I promised myself I would write the last book in the series, give the readers the ending they deserved, but it hasn’t happened.

  I'd started it so long ago with a passion, a drive, a spice for life or whatever other kinds of shit us creative types are supposed to say. But when I came up with Kendra Lovestedder, the billion sugar momma with a harem of young men, I'd been happy.

  I had Micheal to bounce ideas off of. He practically co-wrote the series with me, and then shit hit the fan in more ways than one, making it splatter all over my life.

  With a sigh, my gaze travels to the tumbler beside my laptop; the ice long since melted, and the bottle of Jameson next to it is almost gone.

  I pick up the bottle and stare at the low, dark line behind the green glass. I need to have more delivered. "Well, double shit," I grumble. The glass clunks on the wood as I put it down.

  Using all my strength, I push myself up from the kitchen table and pick up the tumbler, walking over to the fridge's ice maker to get three large ice cubes.

  My phone buzzes for the hundredth time since I bothered to get out of bed at noon. Shoving my hand into my hoodie's center pocket, I press the volume button and send the call to voicemail.

  Hobbling back to the table, I sit down with a groan.

  A moment later, the phone buzzes again, signaling another voicemail. The ice *clinks* in the glass as I set it on the yellow wood, and I tip the Jameson into it, filling it halfway.

  I glance at the screen and then over at the picture I keep on the table at all times, so he's always with me. "You would know how Kendra's story is supposed to end, you would tell me who is the best pick for her to run off and marry. You'd give it the most hilarious ending that the readers would love, laugh, and cry over. I may have written the words, but you were the brain behind the operation."

  Pressing my fingers into my eyes, I rub them, trying to make the dry sensation dissipate. No matter how much sleep I get, the tiredness always stays.

  Clutching the glass, I down half it in two gulps, not bothering to savor the taste of the whiskey.

  My computer dings* with a search term notification I set up years ago. Well, I'm not writing anyway. Clicking on it, it opens the CNAT article that went live minutes ago. **Rock Band Stuck Announces Long Hiatus After 5th World Tour.**

  I stare through a haze, as my fourth whiskey settles in, I skim the article. They talk about how fans don't like not knowing how long the band will be on hiatus and the fact that it will postpone their next album for up to a year or longer.

  I arch an eyebrow. "Didn't think Lance had it in him to let the others take a break."

  Scanning the related articles at the bottom, a video interview grabs my attention. **20 Questions with Stuck**.

  Sipping at my whiskey, I prepare myself as I click on it and start the video.

  The four of them sit on a long leather couch. Lance, of course, in the middle with Darius to his right, Navin to his left, and Titus sitting on the end with short bright blue hair.

  A woman speaks off-screen. "So, the first question is from Abigail and she asks: 'So I noticed you all have the same infinity tattoo. What does it mean and did you get them at the same time?"

  My hand goes to my left shoulder blade, fingertips just able to touch my own tattoo.

  The guys glance at each other. Lance shrugs, running a hand through his dark hair that had the permanent wet look. "We get that question all the time. If you look closely, it has musical notes interwoven with it. It's our love for music. And, yes, we got it at the same time; on the day we signed our record deal."

  I snort. That's a good lie, though, at this point, it probably does mean that for them, but it didn't then.

  *Lance wraps his arm around my shoulders on my left and Navin wraps his around my lower back on my right. Titus and Darius walk ahead chatting away about the events of the past hour.

  Lance stops our walking, leaning down he captures my lips in a quick kiss. Pulling back, he grins. "You were amazing in there, babe! I can't believe it, we're signed!"

  Navin uses the tips of his fingers to pull my face in his direction, also kissing me quickly as cars fly by us in New York. He strokes the back of his knuckles over my cheek as he pulls away. "It was hot seeing you in there, love. If it hadn't been a professional meeting, I would've taken you right there."

  Heat warms my veins and travels straight to my clit at the imagery his words invoke. But we're in public, nothing we can do about it now. I tighten my hold on their backs and rush us forward to catch up with the other two. I grin from ear to ear. Our dream for the past four years has finally come true, and I did it as their band manager, I got them a record deal of a lifetime. People beyond small clubs will be able to hear them on the radio and see them on stadium stages. "All our dreams are coming true!"

  Darius and Titus glance back over their shoulders, they fall back, allowing us to join them.

  Titus gathers his neon orange shoulder-length hair in his hands. "I can't believe it! I feel like I'm in a dream, walking on cloud nine. This day is amazing." His blue eyes meet mine. "You're amazing, Evie!" He stops our walking to cup my cheeks and kisses me passionately; not giving a shit about the stares strangers give us, as they walk past a girl with her arms wrapped around two guys, and a third one kisses her.

  I smile at him as the kiss breaks. "You guys are the amazing ones who wowed them with your musical talent. I just worked a deal that would get us everything we've ever wanted. You have to do all the hard work from here on out."

  Darius side steps in front of Titus, who grins at him, they effectively make a circle around me, keeping out the city. "Don't sell yourself short, sugar. The fact you stood up to those execs and didn't let them give us a bad deal because we're new to the industry was so fucking sexy." Darius tilts my c
hin up and I stand on my toes to meet his luscious lips. Navin and Lance brace my body, allowing me to balance as he almost sucks my soul out in the most delicious way, leaving me dizzy as we part.

  Fuzzies fill my head. I look at each of them. "I love you all so much! Words can't even express how deeply I feel for each of you." Warm tears prick the corners of my eyes. I let go of Navin and Lance to cover my face. "Life is so perfect."

  They gather around, surrounding me in a tight group hug. Lance's voice vibrates in my ear. "And we love you, Evie, now and forever until the end of time."

  The others hum their agreements. We stand there for a moment, in our own perfect bubble. I'm sure getting glares from the people forced to walk around us, but I don't care. The sidewalk is big enough for all of us.

  After a beat they pull back from me, Titus and Darius switch places with Lance and Navin.

  Dusk falls on the city, making the red glowing **Tattoo** sign even brighter, a beacon just ahead. My heart beats faster, but I know it's the right thing to do. The words leave my mouth as I stare at it. "Let's get matching tattoos. I'll never be allowed to marry all of you legally, but we've been together since we were sixteen, we're twenty now. I say we make it official." Not exactly a proposal with rings, but it feels like an even better option. Biting at my lip I pray for them to not say no. I look at each of them and they glance at each other and then back at me and nod, matching grins on their faces.

  Titus interlocks his fingers with mine. "Now and forever, Evangeline Moore."

  Darius also holds my hand, and the five of us head off to the tattoo parlor.*

  My phone buzzes again, bringing me back to the present. If only we knew what was to come. The video continues to play. Darius's baritone voice fills the kitchen with an answer to a question I didn't hear. Again, I ignore the phone call, sending it to voicemail. The woman is persistent, but I have no desire to listen to her tell me how I need to get my life back together; she wants me to go to AA, and try dating.

  The engine of a car stops outside the mansion my family likes to call a cabin just because it's in the mountains. With woods and slopes for the backyard. I frown and look at the picture on the table. "I don't remember setting up an order for today, do you? I should’ve. Probably Jailbait trying to win me over, again, with food. Well, it ain't going to happen."

  With a groan, I stand and start for the back door to let him in. Instead of footsteps moving around the side of the house, they go through the days-old crunchy snow on the walkway.

  Jailbait never comes in through the front. He knows I hate it. I turn toward the front door, several voices resonate from the other side. None of them make much sense, until I get closer.

  "Dude, the key isn't here. Wasn't it always on the ledge above the doors?"

  "Idiot, you probably aren't feeling around right, it was always there unless some squatters took it. Man, our parents really let this place go."

  I know those voices, hell, they are playing in my kitchen right now. I rush over to my laptop and slam it closed, silencing the video. My heart hammers and with it my blood pressure shoots through the roof. My hand goes to the messy bun on top of my head. They are the last people I want to see.

  "Move over and let me look, you aren't looking right." Darius's voice echoes through the doors.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. They aren't going to find a key, but can I just let them stand out there? They'll eventually call someone to find out where the new key is. I don't need to check my voicemail to know why my mother has been calling nonstop. Fuck my hermit-like nature.

  I glare at the picture on the table. "This is your fault, we should've bought the cabin outright from them for this reason."

  A fourth voice joins them. "Both of you move, I can just pick the lock until we can find the key."

  Hurrying forward, I limp my way toward the door, not wanting Titus to fuck up the lock. I open it.

  Titus freezes in his crouched position, picks in his hands, ready to pop the lock.

  Eyes wide, the other three stiffen. Of course, they didn’t expect the door to open, or for me to be on the other side. Ten years since we last saw each other in the flesh. Of course, they didn't expect it. Their parents have no idea I took over living at the cabin, all our families shared it at one point, having bought the mansion together.

  Fuck, they've gotten older, but so have I. Seeing them in a video was different than seeing them now. And they haven't seen me since I ran away. I never got on social media when it got big, at least not under my real name. My cheeks protest as I force a smile. I probably look like a dumpster fire. "Hey."

  Chapter Two

  Titus

  Dear Bonham, she's alive. Living, breathing and standing here in front of us. Our Evangeline. A part of me thought we'd never see her again. That perhaps her existence at all had been part of my imagination, a figment of wanting something that wasn't real. Sometimes the lines of reality and dream blur and cross, and it takes me a moment to plant myself firmly on the ground and know what I can accept as the truth.

  I shove the picks into my pockets and lunge forward, gathering her small frame into my arms; somehow she feels like glass compared to how I remembered her being a sturdy tree that could never falter. "Evie, I've missed you!" Is that whiskey I smell on her?

  She stiffens in my arms before she lightly returns my embrace and pats me on the back. "It's nice to see you, too, Titus." After a moment, she steps further back into the house, and I follow, not wanting to let her go.

  A heavy hand lands on my shoulder. "Ty, let her breathe." Darius's baritone voice reaches my ears.

  I let her go and take a step back. "Sorry, Evie. I'm just so happy to see you!" I push my glasses back up my nose.

  My eyes travel over her oversized black hoodie, with the word INDIANA in bright red and a pitchfork looking thing under it. The grey sweatpants tied tight around her waist almost look like they are meant for a man's body. The Evie I knew was always into fashion, dressing to impress and even when we were relaxing she still wore something cute, a matching pajama set or one of our shirts and her workout shorts.

  Evie clears her throat. "It's...It's good to see all of you." She glances around the living room and then motions to the L shaped sofa. "Make yourselves at home. I'll be out of here soon, just give me a couple of hours to pack up."

  Lance steps forward, standing next to me. He growls. "It's been ten fucking years! You just randomly disappear one night, and you're going to run off again? What the fuck, Evie? We deserve some kind of explanation!"

  She flinches as his voice fills the room. Spinning on her heel, she turns her back on us and goes to the kitchen table toward the back of the house. Why is she limping? She shoves a small picture frame into her hoodie's pocket and picks up a glass of something and downs it. "Where's Harper?" she stares at the ice at the bottom.

  "He wanted to vacation in Bora Bora for a couple of weeks. He'll come here after that to set up a studio for us to produce our next album in while we stay mostly out of the public eye," says Navin. I glance over my shoulder at him. He frowns as he watches her go to the sink and place the glass in it.

  She sort of looks our way, but not fully. "You don't have to go anywhere for that. We... I had the basement redone into a full studio. I'll show you, you can leave your luggage up here."

  Without waiting for us, she goes to the left side of the kitchen toward where the basement is. I'm the first to follow her as the others trail behind. She stops at the white door to take a necklace off. Two keys dangle from the silver chain. With a shaking hand, she puts one of them in the keyhole. And takes a deep breath before she opens it and turns on the light to flood the stairs.

  She glances over her shoulder, again. "C'mon." I'm not sure if she's saying it to us or more for herself. After a second of hesitation, she makes her way down the stairs, taking each one with her right foot going first. What happened to her legs?

  We follow, with me going first. She moves off to the side of the stairs, not going i
nto the room, but she motions for us to do so. "Most of the equipment has only been used a few times, it was brand new when we... I got it. The computer will probably either need updates or replaced, I don't know. It's been three years."

  The left side of the room has been turned into a recording box, complete with a window, and door, and tons of soundproof padding.

  Darius runs his finger over the soundboard, cutting through the thick layer of dust over it. "You had this put in and haven't used it in three years?" He wipes his finger on his jeans.

  She shoves her hands into her hoodie pocket. "Yeah."

  Lance and Navin walk around the large space. It used to be a playroom when we were kids but we lost interest in using it as teens. I stand next to her, not wanting her to leave.

  Navin goes to a gold record on the wall. "Micheal, You're a musical genius. You helped make this happen. Love you always, Carrie X," He reads the white scrawl on the glass.

  Evie stiffens.

  Navin turns to her. "You slipped twice with using we. Is Micheal the one that put this studio in? And is he here?"

  Lance glares at her by the far wall full of framed band posters. "Are you fucking serious? That's why you left? Some fucking loyalty!"

  Her gaze goes to her feet. "Yes, this was his studio. No, he's not here."

  Lance stalks toward her. I brace myself ready to get between them if I have to, his temper ever since she left can be a lot to handle.

  His brown eyes glare. "After getting these fucking tattoos to prove our love, you run off with some nobody producer! I never thought of you as a whore, until now."

  The slap of skin against skin fills the room. I freeze, and watch her hand curl into a fist at her side as Lance's cheek turns pink.

  Darius moves closer. "Lance, not cool."

  She stares at Lance, tears gathering in her eyes. "Throw all the insults you want toward me, but don't you fucking dare talk about Micheal like that!" Her full lower lip quivers. "I waited for five years to hear from one of you..." She ran her sleeve across her cheek. "Fuck this, and fuck you!"