Bullet In A Bonfire

15

Taryn:

Our early morning drive to the radio station in Atlanta was relaxing. The highway was pretty much empty this early in the morning. Just me and my man. No fuss, no muss, just us and the sunrise. It's the most relaxed I've been since this nightmare started. Wish the rest of the day would have followed suit. We were supposed to head to the label in Nashville to discuss more tour dates. We've nailed down the first leg. Now it's time to finalize the summer dates at the outdoor venues and festivals. We made it to the label, but the dates weren't the topic. Brantley's on air explosion had all the suits chewing on their expensive ties and calling out the big gun lawyers. Some were worried about liability. The others were actually worried about me and what could be done. Everyone was in shock that the police still hadn't done anything. Common sense told everyone​ in the room he was a nut job with a screw loose. Once the last hot shot lawyer made it to the meeting he insisted on listening to the whole interview again. So we listened to it for the third time in less than 8 hours. I still cringe when I hear his voice.

"So, we've answered all the E-mail questions. You've given us some tour dates to look forward to. We've got time for one more caller to ask a few questions so let's hear them. We've got Max on the line." The line was quiet, but you could tell someone was on the other end. I knew who it was when the first word played in my head phones. B visibly got tense the long the guy talked.

"Ya KP. I've got a question for Taryn. Why didn't I get a thank you call? Or hell even a text. for the gift I left you at the Dallas concert Taryn? I know you've got my number... I thought you would want your favorite panties with you while you were away from home. Oh and sorry man didn't mean to leave you out. Does she really taste that good? I mean if the fabric taste like that I can't wait to....." I gasped and Brantley lost his shit.

"Mother fucker! You're done for. Stay the hell away from my woman and out of my God damn house. I don't know how the fuck you got in to my home, but you best thank God I wasn't there or you'd be in a body bag right now son. You wanna talk about taste? The only thing you're going to taste is my fists when I shove them down your throat. And maybe some of your own blood. And that will be your last taste. I'll rip your damn tongue out of your head so you can't talk any more. Right after I take my boot out of your ass!"

By the time the radio station decided to try and track the call, crazy had hung up. B was fuming. He was as red as an apple and had kicked the chair so hard when he stood up there's a hole in the studio wall.

Now here with sit, with no less than 8 big shot lawyers. 4 are from the label, 2 are from New York, and 2 are from Atlanta. And we've got nothing. Not a leg to stand on other than harassment and an unlawful entry. Because what he took was less than $150! All I could do was cry. The lawyers kept apologizing because they couldn't come up with more. That's when I felt Brantley pick me up out of the chair.

"I'm done trying to be a law abiding citizen. It's gotten us no where. Terminate our contracts so y'all ain't liable for anything. We'll be back once me and my boys handle this joker the MC way."

I finally found my voice on the way to the truck. "Brantley you and your boys don't roll like that. And I won't have any of them going to prison over me." He just smirked at me. It's pathetic that I'm in this mess and he still makes my knees go week. "I didn't mean my current mc baby girl. I still have friends in some other clubs that don't roll on this side of the law. The less you know the better. You just stay by my side and let me handle things."