I’m her anchor.
Together, we’re explosive.
We are incendiary.
For mature audiences only. Incendiary is not a standalone novel, but is the conclusion to Georgiana McCall’s and Sloane Mason’s story that began in Inferno.
“Sloane,” Georgie whispers again, and her voice cracks, breaking the spell she’s cast on me and reminding me of her duplicity.
Loneliness, fear, and regret, are infused in her voice and written on her face. I’m so fucking furious with her, I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I respond. I ignore her, until my temper is under control.
No one knows I’m in the car, but the Paps are out in force. Kiln didn’t hide, and the location of the hospital Georgie was staying at has been plastered everywhere. Speculation will jump to me, and if I’m somehow involved. No matter. I wanted Georgie and knew from the moment I reached my room last night I’d have her at my side.
After Zelda left, I sat in Mom’s garden for hours, contemplating my life and unable to step back into a world of drugs. But her memory isn’t what kept me from going for drugs. It was Georgie. Her face. Her taste.
Every inch of her is embedded into my psyche. I spent the night considering my next move. With each breath I took, I thought of her. Until the obvious conclusion arose and I agreed with my cook. I needed to see her. I had to get her.
I wouldn’t rest until I looked into her deceitful eyes and heard exactly why she went to the fucking cops and the goddamn media. I also knew there was no fucking way I could stay in that mausoleum without her.
Therefore, whether she wants to be with me or not, I intend to keep her at my side until I’m satisfied she can’t do any further damage. And I’ve gotten repayment from her for the hell she’s put me through.
I owe her.
Most of my life is in my hands. My destiny? That’s another story. My destiny isn’t as debt free.
My band, Phoenix Rising, arrives in Houston to cut a new album. Before we perform our first concert in the city and I choose my groupies of the night, I’m thrust into debauchery. Sleeping with a gorgeous woman twenty years older than me has its perks, especially when her husband orchestrated the encounter and eagerly watches. To me, performing is performing. If a man wants to share his wife, who am I to stop him?
Unfortunately for me, I don’t make a clean getaway as I leave the McCall mansion. Georgie, their sixteen-year-old daughter, is in the midst of her own intrigue, sneaking home in the middle of the night after an evening of drugs and sex with her older brother’s best friend. In her, I see me. She’s lost and drifting. Her hedonistic parents insist she’s old enough to make her own decisions. Instead of time and love, they give her money and things.
I’m a twenty-five-year old international superstar and I know better. I’m cocky and arrogant. I know it so I own it. Somehow, I’ve always bested the fates. I have all to lose—my reputation, my career, and my freedom. Her mother’s jealousy forces my hand and I take Georgie on the tour.
This is our story and our secret relationship and the destruction of my life. You know the adage about secrets? Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead. Wise words from a wise man. If only I had listened. Secrets have a way of revealing themselves in the harshest way.