Home > The Words(87)

The Words(87)
Author: Ashley Jade

The corners of his lips rise. “Right.”

“And because of that, it wouldn’t be fair to deny ourselves the full experience, right?”

Full experience.

My stomach twists. I just had to say those words, didn’t I?

He’s full on smirking now. “Right.”

As if sensing I’m about to get stuck in my head, he slams his mouth against mine.

We kiss for so long…I lose all concept of time.

We kiss for so long…I never want to break apart.

We kiss for so long…I almost forget how much it hurts.

 

 

CHAPTER 53

 

 

LENNON

 

 

Balancing the plate of eggs, ham, and toast, I exit the kitchen and open the sliding door to the bunk.

It’s been three days since we reported Quinn missing and we still haven’t heard anything.

The first day, Phoenix was still optimistic we’d find her and we had another search party before and after the concert.

Day two…he got angry. Not bottle-throwing angry, but angry enough that he made a poor woman in wardrobe cry and the soundboard guy threatened to quit several times.

After that, everyone aside from me avoided him unless it was urgent.

Day three, his anger turned to misery…and he’s been like that ever since.

Skylar’s been messaging Quinn nonstop on social media to no avail and every time one of us calls her, it goes straight to voice mail.

We were going to stay in Chicago a little longer but Chandler threw the world’s biggest hissy fit and threatened to call Vic if we didn’t get our asses on the bus.

Needless to say, Phoenix isn’t happy.

The moment we got on the bus, he went straight to his bunk and hasn’t come out.

I know nothing I say will make any of this better but I’m at a loss, so I did what my dad has always done for me whenever I’m sad.

I made him food.

Sadly, there wasn’t a whole lot in the fridge to work with and while I’m a decent chef, I’m nowhere near as good as Grams.

The curtain on his bunk is drawn closed when I walk in, so I cautiously pull it back. “Hey.”

Sadness etches his features as he lies there staring up at nothing.

My heart falls to the floor as I take a seat next to him.

I gesture to the plate I’m holding. “I made you some food.”

Phoenix rolls over, dismissing me and his breakfast. “Not hungry.”

It was a shot in the dark. But I took it anyway because I hate feeling helpless.

In an attempt to find some ray of hope he can cling to, I utter, “Indianapolis is only three hours away from Chicago, and we’ll be there for the next four days.”

“Where we are doesn’t mean shit when I still don’t know where she is.”

I rub his back. “I know.” After placing the plate on my bunk, I curl up next to him. “If there’s anything I can do or anything you need—”

The sound of his phone ringing cuts me off.

Sighing, Phoenix presses the speakerphone button. “Hello.”

“Hi, this is Officer Bancroft. Is this Phoenix Walker?”

“Yes.” Phoenix bolts up so fast he nearly knocks me over. “Did you find Quinn?”

I say a silent prayer.

“Yeah,” Detective Bancroft states, and a giant wave of relief flows through me.

However, that relief turns to dread with his next words. “It turns out her father is actually a sheriff. Small world, huh? Anyway, she’s back home with her folks.”

My stomach plummets and the ground beneath me tilts.

“Where does she live?” Phoenix barks.

There’s a lengthy pause before he says, “Given you’re not her guardian and she’s a minor, I’m not at liberty to give out that information. But don’t worry, she’s safe.”

Then he hangs up.

Snarling, Phoenix throws his phone. “She’s not fucking safe.”

A moment later, Skylar walks in with a somber expression on her face. “I just heard back from the lab. Quinn’s your sister.”

What should have been happy news only makes him that much more miserable.

 

 

CHAPTER 54

 

 

PHOENIX

 

 

I raise my middle finger at the crowd of screaming fans. “It’s been real, Indiana.”

Real fucking stupid.

Gritting my teeth, I stalk off the stage.

I grab Skylar the second I spot her. “Did you find her address?”

She shakes her head. “No, but I’m working on it. So is the PI.”

In this day and age, no one should be off the grid. What the fuck is taking them so long?

Skylar’s smart enough to walk away when I snarl.

The people backstage part like the red sea as I head for the greenroom. Even Storm and Memphis pretend to be busy on their phones.

Lately everyone has been avoiding me if they can help it and muttering what a prick I am behind my back when they can’t, but Lennon’s face lights up when I enter, and she looks genuinely happy by my presence.

“Hey, you.”

She’s been going out of her way to be there for me while I deal with this shit and I’m grateful, but right now, I need her away from me.

“Get out. Now.”

Visibly offended, her mouth drops open and those big brown eyes flash with that all too familiar hate fire I haven’t seen in a while. I can tell she’s torn between wanting to tell me to go fuck myself with a cactus and wanting to pour the soda in her hand over my head.

Fortunately for us both, she rolls her shoulders back and marches out, but not before calling me a dick under her breath.

The moment she’s gone, I kick the snack table, sending whatever shit was on it scattering, and punch the nearest wall.

It’s not a bottle, though, so my promise to her is still intact.

Well acquainted with my temper, Chandler simply steps over the mess on the floor.

“You have a phone interview with a journalist from K-pop magazine.”

I brace my hands on the wall, debating whether or not to punch it again. “Why the fuck does K-pop magazine want to interview me?”

“Because you’re Phoenix Walker,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Besides, it’s free press.” He shoves his cell into my hand. “Get your ass on the phone.”

“I don’t speak Korean,” I remind him.

Walking backward, he shrugs. “In that case, it will be a short interview.”

Bastard.

Grinding my molars, I take a seat on the couch and press the speakerphone button. “Hello.”

The reporter says something on the other line, but I don’t know what because I don’t speak the motherfucking language.

You’d think they would have gotten us an interpreter.

Incompetent assholes.

I can sense the reporter is growing frustrated because I still haven’t given a response. “I love my Korean fans.”

The reporter asks another question, and just like the first, I don’t have the faintest idea what.

For all I know, she could be asking to suck my dick and give me a rim job.

She certainly wouldn’t be the first. And I’m positive she won’t be the last.

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