Reckless (60 page)

As Kellan grit his jaw, I was handed a microphone. The room filled with tension and anticipation as I tried to ignore the many cameras around us. Palms sweaty, I grabbed Kellan’s hand.
When he glanced at me and our eyes met, I instantly flashed back to the first time I’d really looked into his eyes. His intense gaze framed in that perfect face had been so intimidating back
then, but now it was a source of peace. I drank him in as the world waited for us to speak.

Still looking at me, Kellan lifted the microphone to his mouth. “I’d like to formally introduce you to this beautiful girl at my side, Miss Kiera Michelle Allen.” He turned
back to the DJs. “My wife.”

I didn’t think it was possible to simultaneously floor so many people, but everyone looked stunned. Timidly bringing the microphone to my lips, I murmured, “Hi.”
Everyone’s eyes flashed to our hands. I’d been wearing my wedding ring the entire time, but in an attempt to avoid speculation, I had asked Kellan not to wear his. He was proudly
wearing it now, and the matching bands sparkled in the studio lights.

The female DJ recovered first. “Oh, well . . . congratulations. Is this . . . recent?”

Smiling ear to ear, like a huge weight had been lifted from him, Kellan told them, “No. We actually got married last June, before any of this craziness started.”

Knowing he was leaving something out, I clarified. “Well, we aren’t technically married yet. We had a small ceremony . . . sort of, but we haven’t legally gone through the
proceedings.” My throat felt so tight I was sure I sounded like a frog.

Kellan shrugged. “I married you in that bar. That’s all that matters to me.”

The scruffy-looking DJ was all over that news. “You got married in a bar? Nice. That’s my dream wedding location. Not that I’m ever getting married.”

A nerve-releasing titter escaped me, and I felt my throat relaxing. Feeling more confident, I kissed the back of Kellan’s hand. “We married in June, but we’ve been together . .
. well, it will be two years now in March.”

Brows knitted, the woman asked Kellan, “If you’ve been engaged this whole time, why has nobody heard about Kiera before now?” She gave me playful smile. “Where have you
been hiding?”

Laughing a little, I told her, “I was hiding right by his side. We’ve been almost inseparable this entire time. I was even in the room during interviews when Kellan mentioned he was
‘in a relationship.’”

The DJ looked back at him. “Why didn’t you just point her out? Say, that’s my girl, right there?”

I meekly raised my hand. “That would be because of me. I’m not . . . comfortable being the center of attention. Kellan was trying to keep me out of the spotlight.” I indicated
the room with my finger. “All of this makes me want to either vomit, pee my pants, or some horrible combination of the two.” While the room laughed, I resisted the urge to slap my hand
over my eyes. Did I really just say that out loud to thousands and thousands of people? Oh well.

Giving me a wide smile, the brunette grabbed her microphone and leaned in like she was telling me a secret. “It’s okay. This makes me want to pee too.”

Kellan laughed, then added, “Once all the hype over Sienna and me started, I couldn’t keep quiet about it. I told whoever would listen that I was in a relationship, but everyone
twisted it around to mean that I was talking about Sienna. I couldn’t give them specifics about Kiera, because she didn’t want that, and I wasn’t about to throw my wife to the
wolves against her wishes.” He kissed the back of my hand, and I swear someone in the room sighed.

Eyes apologetic, Kellan locked gazes with me. “I was as vague as I could be about you. Maybe I was too vague. I should have at least said I was engaged.”

I shook my head. “You did what you knew I was comfortable with, you don’t have to feel bad about that.” Laughing, I added, “And you know Sienna just would have started
wearing an engagement ring anyway.”

Kellan smirked as he shook her head. “Yeah, I can see her doing that.”

The DJs picked up on what we were insinuating instantly. Leaning in, the female asked, “Are you saying that Sienna Sexton orchestrated the Kell-Sex phenomenon?”

Kellan slowly looked back at the DJ. This was hard for him. Regardless of how Sienna had manipulated us, she’d given the D-Bags their start. She’d put them on the map; they sort of
owed her for that. And she wasn’t all bad. I’d seen glimpses of her generosity, like her arranging a car to get my sister to the hospital, and her showering Anna with things for Gibson.
There was a soul inside of Sienna . . . buried deep under her incessant need to be on top. I wondered how much of that drive had to do with her pressure-filled childhood.

Sighing, Kellan told her, “It’s not entirely Sienna’s fault, but yes, she definitely did her part to make sure the fans saw us together.”

All of the DJs looked confused. “Why?” the unkempt one asked.

Kellan looked back at his band sitting slightly behind us. This was it, the point of no return. But we’d gone too far now. If people were going to really understand what had happened, then
the
entire
truth needed to come out.

Evan reached over and put his hand on Kellan’s shoulder. Squeezing, he nodded. Kellan returned his eyes to the DJ who had asked the question. “To boost sales. The record label
decided early on that Sienna and I as a couple would create a buzz that would help us both. It was their idea to make the music video so . . . explosive.” He frowned as he looked over at me.
“And I’ll never really forgive myself for doing it.”

“I talked you into it,” I reminded him.

Nodding, Kellan inhaled a deep breath. Looking back at the DJs hanging on our every word, he said, “I was encouraged by the label to let the rumors grow, to hold my tongue. I didn’t
want to let my band down. These boys are my family. I wanted the success for them, so . . . I went along with it in the beginning.” He let out a weary sigh, then shrugged. “By the time
I changed my mind and started speaking up, it was too late. Nobody believed me.”

Seeing his forlorn expression, I told the DJs, “The label pulled the D-Bags from the tour with Avoiding Redemption. The label put them on Sienna’s tour, trying to drive the hype up.
Sienna made sure they were constantly photographed together. Kellan was being evasive to protect me.” Shaking my head, I turned to Kellan. “It’s no wonder that the fans
didn’t believe what you were telling them. No one’s at fault there.”

The female DJ scoffed. “No one but your label and Sienna. You were green to the business, probably overwhelmed, and they completely walked all over you. It’s disgusting, and I for
one am outraged for you.”

Kellan and I both smiled at her. Finally, someone understood. Someone believed us. And having someone on our side felt better than I ever thought it would.

We spent the next several minutes answering any question they asked, including a lot of questions about the confusing sex tape. Kellan told them, “No, that wasn’t Sienna. That was an
old roommate of mine. We made it several years ago. She leaked it for money, and since she’s never once spoken up about being the girl in the video, I’m assuming that she got paid a
great deal of money.” I thought he made a very good point. So did the DJs.

After the DJs’ questions were satisfied, we took additional questions from callers. It went really well, although several of the callers sounded shocked, angered, and saddened that Sienna
and Kellan weren’t real. One was even crying. I hadn’t meant to break the hearts of the Kell-Sex fans, but Kellan and I couldn’t keep this under wraps anymore. In the end, I hoped
they understood that.

The minute we stepped from the studio, I felt higher and happier than I had in a while; our relationship being out in the open was both terrifying and liberating. Even if we were going to get
heat from the label and Sienna, at least things would be honest from here on out. For the first time in the last few weeks, I felt really hopeful. And proud. Hard as it was, Kellan and I were doing
the right thing.

Tori was livid when she met up with us in the hallway. She wasn’t the only one. We didn’t even make it to the elevator before Kellan’s phone started ringing. He cringed when he
saw the screen, but he opened it. “Hi, Sienna.”

She screeched so loud I could hear her. “What the bloody hell did you just do?”

Kellan was cool but collected when he answered her. “Something I should have done a long time ago. I said my peace.”

“You just admitted that we manipulated the public for money! Are you trying to ruin both of our careers?”

Tory was red-faced, and I couldn’t help but think that she absolutely agreed with Sienna; I was a little surprised she hadn’t gone off on us yet. She was probably waiting to do it in
the car. The rest of the band was quiet as Sienna’s heated, tinny words rang in the air.

Kellan pulled the phone away from his ear. “Our albums will speak for themselves. And that’s the way it should be. If our music isn’t good enough to stand on its own, then we
shouldn’t be at the top. And if we fall . . . I’m fine with it.”

“You are the biggest bloody fool I have ever met! Get your ass back here. Now!”

The line went dead, and Kellan tucked the phone back in his pocket. As the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Kellan leaned down to me and whispered, “You think she’s
mad?”

His lip curled up in an expression that was both sexy and adorable. I had no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck and thoroughly start kissing him as we stepped inside the elevator.
Pausing for only a microsecond, I murmured, “I don’t really care if she is.”

Kellan’s phone rang the entire time the car descended, but we both ignored it as we held each other. My good feelings diminished a bit when we stepped onto the chilly, gloomy New York
sidewalk. The fans who had been outside before had grown in size during the interview. Their temperament was also different. The range of reactions was all over the place, from shock, to anger, to
grief. But curiosity seemed to be the underlying factor. It was obvious that they’d all been listening to the interview. It was also obvious that they all still had questions.

There was also a fair amount of press in the crowd now. They hovered around, microphones ready, cameras blazing. The fact that news crews were already there reiterated to me how fast things
happened in New York. I wasn’t thrilled about being broadcasted on TV, but after the interview, this didn’t faze me as much as it once would have.

Kellan and I had handed the media a story that was a little more in depth than just juicy are-they-or-aren’t-they gossip. We’d openly admitted being used by our label. That sort of
scandal got noticed. The reporters tossed out questions as the assemblage pressed in on us: “Kellan, Kiera, any comment on what the label did to you?” “Will you sue?”
“Will you leave the tour?” “Did you violate your contract by speaking out?”

Those were good questions, but they weren’t ones we had answers for yet.

The fans also had questions, but theirs were on a more personal level: “You’re really not with Sienna?” “That was really fake?” “The video looked so real
though, are you sure you don’t have feelings for Sienna?”

Tory and the staff from the radio station were trying to keep the crowd under control so we could leave. I thought maybe we should have stayed and answered everyone’s questions, but the
way they were trying to close in around us made me feel really claustrophobic and uncomfortable. There were too many, they were too close. I didn’t like it. We’d said enough for now. I
just wanted to get into the car and get back to the privacy of our bus.

There was a brief space between the large clusters of fans and press hovering around the doors. Security was holding people back just enough that Matt, Evan, and Griffin were able to squeeze
through, and I watched them hurry into the waiting SUV in relief. Kellan and I couldn’t press through the fans side by side, but he clenched my hand tight as he pulled me through the sea of
people.

I noticed several flashes of light as we waded along and realized that not just press were in this mix. Paparazzi had shown up too, and they were by far more aggressive than the fans and
reporters. While security merely had to stand in front of those groups to keep them back, paparazzi pushed to get past them. A pair of tenacious photographers found their way through the swarm to
step right in front of Kellan and me. Kellan forced me back a step, and I shielded my eyes against the ceaseless bright flashes.

The people snapping our picture didn’t seem to care in the least that we were trying to get to the car. They tossed out question after question, never even pausing long enough for us to
answer—not that we were going to. Miffed, Kellan tried squirming past one; the portly man wouldn’t budge, though.

Careful to not be too aggressive, since we’d just narrowly escaped an assault charge the last time we’d encountered these guys, Kellan politely said, “We’re trying to
leave; please let us through.”

It was like they didn’t even hear us. They just kept snapping away. Looking up at the safety of the SUV, I saw Matt and Evan watching us in concern. They looked just about ready to start
pummeling people aside to get to us. I didn’t want that. Kellan didn’t either. When I was beginning to believe there wouldn’t be another choice if we ever wanted to get out of
this mob, a narrow path to the street opened up. It was far to the left of where we wanted to go, and it cut right through a pocket of excited fans, but it was our only option at this point.

Kellan saw the ray of hope at the same time I did. He pulled us to the right, faking out the paparazzi, then swung us around to the left, and we ran for the closing hole. Kellan pulled me
through the break in the crowd just as it began to close back up. We were stroked and fondled by fans on the way through, but the aggressive photographers couldn’t follow us.

Now that we were through the conglomeration, we were a little stuck. The label’s SUV was a ways up the street, blocked off from us by a mass of people. The buzzing crowd was behind us, and
the street was in front of us. Since the rest of the band was safely tucked away, Kellan and I were now the only point of interest. Over my shoulder, I could see them all shifting our way. Kellan
stuck his hand out for a taxi, trying to get us away, but trepidation shot up my spine as everyone zoned in on us.