Angie M. Brashears - Free Library Land Online

There is nothing sexier than a woman with her act together. This is not that kind of story. NovaKain is a pop star who’s run out of chances, and Shamus Malone is the man willing to give her own more.

Shamus - If I keep worrying about everything that could go wrong, I’ll never get to sleep. Needing a distraction, I turn on the news. One click, and she’s everywhere.

Breaking news. Unapologetic as ever, NovaKain says, ‘F U Grammys.’ With both hands.

Oh no. There’s my star attraction, high as hell. Wearing the same clothes I left her in. Yesterday. Right down to the hospital ID band on her wrist. It’s like deja vu in hell, except…Isn’t that the guy from Fight Club? Yep, and she’s on him like a patch on a jacket. Off balance, she giggles through a statement of some sort. Two words in and the beautiful duo completely break down into raucous peals of laughter. Unable to contain the hilarity, she hands the newsman a familiar ivory envelope and my gut churns.

Practically salivating, the reporter can’t spread the bad news fast enough. “Dear Miss Kain...”

As he reads, I get a sinking feeling. Like the noose is already around my neck and the stool’s wobbling.

Where are her handlers? Those that are supposed to be looking out for her? Right here. I never should have left her. I won’t make that mistake again. No matter the cause, the effect is still happening. Right before my eyes. I should have tied her up and thrown her in the trunk.

It should end right there. But on live TV, she’s gotta have the last say. Glassy-eyed, she smirks as the camera zooms in. “Man have I had a week. Rusty hasn’t changed. I don’t think I have any more friends left, but if I do, he’d find a way to screw them too. Then there’s the overdose. Oh my God! Did you guys hear? They tried to 5150 my ass. Monday’s suck. Amirite?”

It’s Sunday, but no one corrects her.

“All I wanted was a little fun before I’m shut off and somehow I’m the bad guy. Whatever haters. Come see me at The Four Leaf. Vegas Baby!” She turns to the reporter. “Can I say hi to my boss, Shamrock Malone?”

It’s Shamus but I’ve been called worse. At least she got the venue right. Then I think of what Justice said. We forgive famous people of everything just to be in their light. She doesn’t even look like the woman I met. This one’s off the rails. I text my brother. Justice, we have a problem.