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Authors: S.C. Stephens

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BOOK: Reckless
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Denny’s dark brown eyes took in Kellan and me sitting very closely together on the bed. “Abby and I have been discussing something recently. We’ve been discussing it a lot
actually.”

Brows knitted, I tried to read Denny’s expression for some clue as to what he was thinking about. I had no idea. I couldn’t read him anymore. “Discussing what?” Kellan
asked.

Denny smiled and looked over at Abby. Not missing a beat, she pointed at Kellan. “You, mate.”

Kellan looked bewildered by that, and Denny laughed. “You and your band,” he clarified. His amusement faded away and seriousness darkened his features. “Abby and I both feel
that you are being poorly represented. The band isn’t being looked out for. The people who are supposed to be protecting you aren’t.” He gave Kellan’s hospital bed a pointed
glance. “That much is clear.”

Indicating himself and his fiancée, he continued. “We both have a lot experience in marketing things, people, brands, creating positive PR.” Pausing, he leaned back in his
chair. “If you’re interested, we would like to manage you. We would speak for you, be your voice to the world. We would protect you.” He jerked his thumb behind him at the large
window showcasing the dark world outside. “And crap like what happened with Sienna wouldn’t ever happen again. Not to that extent, at any rate.”

Kellan looked like Denny had just confessed that
he
was actually his biological father. I understood the reaction; I was pretty shocked myself. “You want to be the band’s .
. . agents? You would do that for us?”

Denny’s lips curved up into a warm smile. “Yes, of course we would.”

I shook my head at them, amazed. “But, your jobs . . .”

He shook his head. “The D-Bags would be my only clients, and I don’t anticipate you needing my help full time.” He indicated Abby with his head. “As long as we’re
able to, we would continue with our jobs on some level.” Leaning forward again, Denny set his hand on Kellan’s arm. “But you would be my top priority, and if you needed me, I
would be there for you. I would be honored to be the one standing up for you.”

Kellan feebly nodded his head. “Yeah, okay. I mean, I’ll need to run it by the guys, but . . . yeah, let’s do it. I’d be honored to have you guys represent me.” He
stuck out his hand and Denny shook it, then Abby did. Everyone was all smiles. It warmed my heart. “And we’ll pay you, of course.”

Denny laughed. “We’ll talk about that part later.” He indicated the IV dripping fluid into Kellan’s body. “Maybe when you’re not on drugs.”

We all laughed, and I marveled at how far we’d all come. We were so different from the people we were when we’d all started living together—stronger, more confident, more
secure in ourselves. And yet, we were still exactly the same. We cared about each other. We supported each other. We looked out for each other. And now that the sting of betrayal and guilt was only
a dull ache in the background, the three of us were what I’d always hoped we would be—the best of friends.

Chapter 30

Success

When Kellan was released from the hospital, he was put in a wheelchair and instructed to take it easy for the next six weeks. He looked irritated that he couldn’t walk
out of the place on his own two feet. He was walking around much better now, and probably could handle the journey downstairs just fine, but I made him suck it up and keep his ass in the
wheelchair. His internal organs were sewn up, and rest was what he needed, not some macho display of invulnerability.

Much to the delight of Griffin and the other D-Bags, Kellan frowned the entire time I pushed him down the hall. Because I couldn’t help myself, I patted his head like he was an obedient
puppy. He pursed his lips at me, not amused. I thought he’d try and bolt for the door once he saw freedom, but he surprisingly stayed in his chair and let me continue to take care of him. A
couple of nurses trailed after us with carts full of get-well flowers and gifts. I had no idea what we were going to do with all the stuff the fans had sent him.

As I rolled Kellan outside, where a sleek black stretch limo was waiting for us courtesy of the groveling-for-his-job Nick, I considered just having Kellan sign the gifts and pass them out to
his admirers. They were everywhere outside. Holding signs, candles . . . each other . . . they cheered in wailing shrieks when they finally got to see their recovering rock star.

Attendees from the hospital hurried to push them back and rush us to the idling car. Kellan held up his hand when a burly guy grabbed his chair away from me. “Wait, I want to talk to
them.”

The hospital staff seemed surprised that he would want to address “the little people,” but I wasn’t. Kellan had watched these fans hold a vigil for him night after chilly
night. Thanking them for their endless dedication was the least he could do. Knowing Kellan, he probably wanted to give each person a warm hug and a personalized message of gratitude. There were a
lot of them, though, and Kellan and I did have a plane to catch. Since Kellan was in no shape to continue the tour right now, we were going to take Gavin up on his offer and spend a few weeks
recouping in Pennsylvania before visiting my parents in Ohio. It was a break I was really looking forward to taking—Kellan too.

Taking back the wheelchair handles, I steered Kellan toward a large cluster of people hovering near the corner; the other D-Bags respectfully stayed by the car, giving Kellan a moment alone with
his fans. Well, most of them were respectful. Matt had to shove Griffin into the limo to keep him from trying to steal the spotlight.

The screams from the crowd were earsplitting, and I hoped nobody on this side of the hospital was trying to sleep. When Kellan was close enough, he reached back and put his fingers over mine in
a silent thank-you. Holding up his other hand, he silenced the crowd.

“I can’t thank you enough for your devotion and your prayers.” He shook his head, and some of the girls directly in front of him sighed. “I saw you. Every night I saw you
standing out here in the cold . . . for me. You don’t know how much that means to me, how much each and every one of you means to me.” His eyes scanned the crowd, a crowd that was
struggling to act mature and not squeal like little girls. “I will never forget this.” He squeezed my hand, and I knew he didn’t just mean the fans. This place, this moment in
time would live on forever for us. We were married here.

Kellan thanked the crowd, and I started to turn him away. A brave girl off to our side shouted, “Congratulations on your marriage!”

Kellan looked back at her with an achingly sexy half-smile on his lips. “Thank you.” The poor girl looked like she might pass out, so I quickly wheeled him away.

Amid the screams of his leaving, I leaned down and whispered, “You just can’t help it, can you?”

His expression innocent, he asked, “Help what?”

Smiling, I kissed his cheek. “Being ridiculously attractive.”

He was shaking his head as I helped him into the limo. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only ridiculous one here,” he murmured, grunting in pain as he transferred his
weight.

I rolled my eyes as I got into the car behind him. Nice try, but Kellan knew he was attractive. He may have doubted that anyone actually cared about him, but his looks had never escaped him.
Being openly ogled everywhere you go will do that to you, I guess.

Everyone’s bags were inside the limo as we headed straight for the airport; even Kellan’s guitar was there. The D-Bags were parting ways, and that thought made me sad. I was going to
miss my extended family. But the tour was over for them. By the time Kellan was healed enough to return, only a few weeks of Sienna’s tour would be left. Instead of rejoining Sienna for the
last leg, the boys had decided that they would take a break and work on songs for their second album. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It hadn’t entirely been the boys’
decision.

Sienna had made her public apology the day after our wedding. Showing up on a popular morning show, she’d tearfully confessed to her fans that she’d helped fabricate and prolong her
relationship with Kellan. She told her fans that she “got swept up in the game, and let money and success override common decency.” She apologized to all of the fans for misleading
them, and begged for their forgiveness. She’d ended her speech by telling the world that she would be completing the remainder of her tour without the D-Bags, so Kellan had ample time to rest
and relax with his wife.

The fans were naturally quite upset with her, and from what I’d heard, tickets sales for the remainder of the tour had dropped considerably.

Even though it seemed too small a gesture, I sent her a thank-you card.

Nick immediately started planning a new tour for the boys—a tour that, just as Justin had predicted, they were going to headline. He called Kellan while we were enjoying a peaceful evening
together with Gavin, Riley, and Hailey. In as polite a way as he could, Kellan told Nick that any and all arrangements for the band would need to be made through their new agent, Denny Harris. When
he hung up with Nick, he had a huge smile on his face. “That was fun.”

As the official go-to person for the D-Bags, Denny negotiated all details of the tour. When he called Kellan a couple weeks later with the information, I knew without a doubt that Denny was the
absolute right person for the job. He understood the band, and he understood their desires. He fought to keep the venues on the smaller side—larger than Justin’s last tour, but smaller
than Sienna’s—so the experience could be more personal for the fans and the bands. That meant less money for all parties—but Kellan didn’t care about the money, and Denny
knew that. And money wasn’t really an issue anymore anyway. After the accident, the D-Bags’ album shot right past Sienna’s to land in the number one spot. And it stayed there.
Financially, the D-Bags were going to be fine for quite a while.

Denny also helped me out with my career. Four weeks after the accident, when Kellan and I were in Ohio with my parents for Christmas, I finally let Denny read my book. I was a wreck when I
e-mailed it to him. It was so much worse than letting Kellan read it. What I did to Denny in the book, in real life, was inexcusable. I didn’t see how he could possibly be okay reading it.
When I didn’t hear back from him for three days, I thought my chest was going to explode from the anxiety. Kellan repeatedly told me it was going to be fine. My mother told me I was going to
give myself unnecessary worry lines. I couldn’t help it, though. The book was so personal; a piece of my soul. Not getting a reaction to it right away was killing me. But maybe I deserved
that.

On the day that I had originally been slated to get married, I was pacing the living room and wondering if Denny was ever going to call me when he finally did. I was so nervous about talking to
him, I stepped outside. My parents’ yard was covered in snow, and everything outside was muffled and insulated. It was still early in the day, mid-morning, and there wasn’t a whole lot
of movement in the neighborhood. It made Denny’s voice that much clearer in my ear.

“Hey, it’s me. I finally read your book.”

I sat on a bench on the porch and remembered sitting there with Denny, ages ago. “And . . . ?” I cringed, not sure if I wanted to hear his answer.

He paused. “And I think it’s great. I think you should publish it.”

Relief washed through me. “Are you sure? It’s so . . . personal. I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have.”

Denny sighed, and for once there wasn’t any lingering pain in the sound. “I understand too, Kiera. Reading the book . . . I understand so much better what happened. I wish it
hadn’t happened the way it had, and I know you feel the same, but I’m okay now, and this doesn’t bother me. Go. Publish it. Knock the socks off the literary world. You deserve
it.”

As I leaned back on the bench, I told him, “Thank you. That means a lot to me.” Smiling, I added, “I guess I should get started on getting it published. So, Mr. Brilliant, you
have any contacts in the publishing industry?”

I could hear Denny’s smile when he answered me. “Actually, I know you’d probably considered going with a traditional publisher right away, but what do you think about releasing
it yourself first? Garner some attention before you dive into the traditional route? The minute I finished reading, I started looking into it, and I found a ton of articles and websites about
self-publishing. If you want, I can help you with the technical side. Then I’ll help you market the book. That is my specialty, you know.”

“No, I hadn’t considered that, but I like the idea.” I paused to think it over, and he had a point. A story about cheating might be hard for me to sell to a publisher.
Releasing it myself seemed like a great way to prove the story’s merits first. Still amazed by Denny, I shook my head. “You’d really do that for me?”

“Like you told me before, Kiera, I’d do anything for you. You and Kellan both.”

I didn’t even know what to say to that, so in the end I just thanked him. Then I ran into the house and tossed my arms around Kellan’s neck as I kissed every square inch of his face.
“I’m going to be published!” I squealed.

Lacing his arms around me and gently sitting me beside him on the couch, he murmured, “I know. And you’re going to be huge.” His lips curled into an adorable pout. “When
you’re famous and I’m a has-been, you’re going to leave me, aren’t you?”

Giggling, I threaded my fingers through his hair. “For one, thanks to you, I’m
already
famous. And secondly”—I tenderly placed my lips against
his—“I’m never leaving you.” Pulling back, I lost myself in his amazing eyes. “And lastly, you’ll never be a has-been. Not to me.” Nope, not ever.

Two weeks later, Kellan and I said our goodbyes to our families and traveled back home to Seattle. Kellan was damn near giddy when our plane came to a complete stop. He
immediately bounded to his feet and pulled me to mine. I wasn’t sure why he was so excited as we exited the first class section, a complimentary upgrade from Nick. I thought maybe Kellan was
just happy to be returning to familiar stomping grounds, but after acknowledging a few fans at the airport, gathering our things from baggage claim, and climbing into a taxi, the real reason for
his excitement became crystal clear.

BOOK: Reckless
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