“Actually, I think Jasper and Vi are the worst,” Henry chimes in as the guys continue on through the museum.
Keith’s forehead drops to mine, his hand cupping my face. He hasn’t said anything to me since I dropped the crazy verbal diarrhea of happiness on his head. He just continues to stare into my eyes, and I can’t take it anymore.
I toss him a wink and pull back, moving to catch up with the others.
We finish the rest of the tour, which is incredible. I could have lingered all day, but we have to get moving for soundcheck. The guys play tonight at FedEx field and as we walk through the underground part of the stadium on our way up to the field, Jasper tells me all about the last time they were here. When the media was all over the band, but in particular, him, Gus, and Viola.
“It was such a nightmare,” he explains, a strange, almost pained expression crossing his features before it just as quickly turns impish. “It was also one of the best parts of the trip as it’s when Vi and I finally got together.”
“In secret,” Gus retorts with a sly grin. “They kept it a secret for nearly two weeks after that.”
Jasper laughs, and it’s so difficult to imagine how all that drama turned out the way it did. That they came out stronger than they were before. I don’t have siblings and my only living relative is a blood-sucking vampire, so for me, it would be nearly impossible to comprehend this level of love and devotion if I weren’t witnessing it on a daily basis.
We reach the center of the field where the stage is set up for tonight. Marco has been here all day trying to put out one fire after another and when he greets me on the side of the stage, he looks worn. “It’s a shame it’s such a beautiful afternoon and my job isn’t nearly finished.”
“Huh?” I laugh, tilting my chin in his direction.
“Today has sucked warty cock and all I want to do is eat a bacon cheeseburger in my room with the shades closed. But I can’t.”
I reach out, squeezing his shoulders just as the guys start in with the sound crew and the event director. “Sorry. I would have stayed to help.”
He shakes his head. “No. Keith would have cut a bitch. And that bitch would have been me. How was the museum?”
“It was fantastic. Oh my gosh, there was this—” My words are cut off by the ringing of my phone. The event director throws me an icy glare and I quickly pull out my phone, answering it without even looking as I skedaddle off to the side and down the stage back onto the covered field. “Hello?”
“I was wondering when you were going to pick up.” My eyes slam shut, cinching tight at the sound of my father’s voice. Shit. I could have gone forever without speaking to him again.
“What do you want? Why do you keep calling and texting?”
“Where are you? What’s all that noise in the background?”
“I’m at work,” I tell him without elaborating on just what that works is. “You know, so I can pay off all the debt you put me in.”
“And if you had given me the money your mother left you then there wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”
I shake my head, my fist squeezing the phone so tight I’m shocked it’s not cracking. “Except you racked up more than double what mom left me. Add to that a fucking crazy drug dealing bookie. The only reason you’re not in jail or dead is because of me.” I blow out a harsh, aggravated breath. We’ve had this conversation so many times it makes my head spin.
I didn’t report him to law enforcement after I found out he opened the cards in my name. I should have. I regret it now, but it’s too late as I’ve been paying down the debt for more than a year at this point. And when Carvalo said if I didn’t pay off the debt somehow, either with my body or money, that he’d kill my father and likely me too, I believed him.
The problem was, I was a scared kid. Angry as hell, yes, but my father was my father at the end of the day. Despite the way he treated me, I didn’t know how to do the things I should have done. I enabled him. I realize that now. And look where it’s gotten me. I had to freeze my credit so he couldn’t do anything else, and as far as I know, Carvalo isn’t bothering with him anymore.
“What do you want?” I bark out. “I don’t want to talk to you. I made that clear when I left. I’m done with you.”
“Carvalo has been coming around asking about you. He came to pay you a friendly visit, and you were no longer living in your apartment or working at the restaurant or law office.”
I stagger a few steps over, reaching for the thick padded wall that separates the field from the seats. “Why was he looking for me?”
“I didn’t ask, but I’m sure it’s important for him to try to find you.”
“He’s getting his money. What more does he want?!” I scream, wanting to chuck my phone with all my might so I don’t have to listen to this. So I don’t have to think about a man like Carvalo coming to look for me. He doesn’t know about Keith or the band, and I’m so grateful for that. God, I can’t imagine placing this on them.
All my evils.
I was never the goddess Psyche. I was always Pandora.
“I’m just the messenger. So where are you anyway? You said you were at work. Where is that exactly?”
My blood freezes over instantly. My father’s trying to help Carvalo find me. He may even be listening in as we speak. Jesus.
I disconnect the call, blocking my father’s number for good. I check my phone and find that the location settings are still set to private. It’s a relief, but a small one.
For now, I’m safe. I just don’t know how long I can go before he finds me. And them.
28
Keith
* * *
Sweat drips down my back as my muscles bunch and twist with each strike of my sticks. Jasper’s voice comes through my earpiece, but I don’t really need to hear him to hit my beat perfectly. Gus walks in my direction, his face flushed, and his hair wet with his own sweat, but it’s his infectious smile that pulls my own to my lips.
We haven’t played live in a few years before this mini-tour.
I think all that happened on the last one took some of the sweetness out of it, but when our last album came out, we knew we couldn’t put it off any longer. I don’t think any of us are regretting that decision now. There is just something so profound about playing to a live audience. It’s truly why we started in this game beyond our love of making music.
But tonight, everything feels different.
Every beat, every rhythm I’ve played has echoed three words that haven’t stopped repeating through my mind since Seattle. Maia loves me.
And today, at the museum, I think she nearly said it. I think that’s what that whole crazy rant and her mentioning what I said before I went on stage in Seattle was all about. I told her that night that she was falling hard for me and today, she confirmed it.
It’s had me riding a high like none other. Even if I couldn’t come right out and tell her I was there with her. The words were there. Right on my tongue. But no matter how I tried, I couldn’t push them out.
I know I’m not betraying Amy or her memory. I know that by loving Maia I’m not forgetting Amy or replacing her or what we had. But still… I can’t stop this fucking grief, and I’d give anything to at this point. My eyes glide over to the front row, my heart aching because Amy is not sitting there.