Significance (4th in the Encore!!! tour)

Chapter Seventeen

Meth Drew's POV

I walked out of the tour bus to answer a call from an unknown phone number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mattie Boy..."

Without hesitating, I threw my phone against the concrete, watching in satisfaction as it splintered into pieces. That *ss had no right to get in touch with me...

"Meth?" I heard the tired voice of my gorgeous redhead before I saw her, standing on the entrance stairway to the tour bus in her pajama shorts and a tank top, with her hair all tangled and mussed from sleep. We had another concert in Georgia in a few days, and we were trying to catch up on rest. "What happened?" She yawned.

"Nothing, beautiful. Let's just go back inside," I answered in my gravelly bass. I was starting to think that the almost-growling quality to my voice was never going to go away.

"Lie. And I like your voice, it's... rugged. It suits you," Amy spoke, sitting down where she was. As always, she knew exactly what I was thinking. "Now, why are we taking a trip to buy you a new phone tomorrow?"

I kicked the shattered remains of the device, shoving my hands in my pockets. "My father called."

Her bright blue eyes widened instantly. "How did he get this number?"

"I have no idea," I sighed, rubbing my eyes with my palms. "But I'm going to find out. I left his life, not the other way around. Once I get that new phone, I have a few calls to make."

The next day, as promised, I was on the phone with Chad Summers and Ryan Bausten. I wanted to know how my poor excuse for a deadbeat dad got ahold of me and I wanted to make sure it could never happen again, to myself or to Mom.

I hadn't really even told Amy about the man who made my mom's life a living h*ll. They met in college when he transferred to Mom's school and they were young and stupid. A few days after their college graduation, I was born and everything took a turn for the worse.

I had spoken to Terra about what he was like. Mom commonly wore rose-tinted glasses, especially when it came to him, so I decided to ask her roommate. Apparently, he had always been rough and handsy, even way back in the beginning.

By the time I was seven, I knew Matthew Evans was not my dad and never would be. He used me as a punching bag, which led me to stop speaking. He treated my mom like a ragdoll, tossing and throwing her around when he wanted something and putting her back on the shelf when he was done with her. Right when I turned sixteen, I came home to my mom sitting on the edge of her bed, crying. While at the doctor's office, she found out that she could never have another baby. That was when we left and moved to Farmingdale, New York leaving him behind. Mom had mailed him the divorce papers and he had signed over custody. He wanted nothing to do with us, either.

I guess he had seen me on TV or on the Internet. Now I was worth something, so he thought he could get back in. No, sir. That was never going to happen.

I didn't want him anywhere near my family and I needed to keep it that way.