Those words slammed hard into my chest, reverberating there, much as the metal lounger continued to vibrate from Dad’s kick. The thick, fluffy cushion couldn’t conceal the attack.
If I hadn’t been sitting, I might have staggered backward under the onslaught of emotions. The physicality and the ugly, closed expression on Dad’s face combined with the words… I felt as if he’d hit me, not once but many times. My chest felt bruised and achy.
I swallowed a deep sense of loss. I’d prided myself on my easy relationship with my father. But I realized now, that had been gone since Lev died.
I had to try one more time. “Dad, I don’t understand…”
His face twisted in a snarl, and I shrank from him, unsure if I should run or prepare for a blow.
“Are you stupid?” he yelled. “I said no, you’re not performing. You’re not part of my tour. That’s the end of it.”
Silence engulfed us. I felt…bereft, as I had when Lev died. I could hear Dad breathing in sharp pants. The door opened behind me, and my neck prickled as Steve came to stand next to me. He kept his gaze on my father, and something passed between them.
“I don’t have time for this shit,” Dad said, pushing past Steve and striding through the suite.
“Are you okay?” Steve asked. Worry clouded his eyes.
I was contemplating how to form words when my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket. Cam’s smiling face appeared on the screen for a video call, and I pressed the green Accept button, feeling wooden.
Cam’s grin slid off his face. “What’s wrong?”
I blinked back tears. “My dad just told me I can’t travel with him for the rest of the tour.”
Cam turned his head away, jaw jutting. After a long pause, he turned back, anger in his eyes. “He give you a reason?”
“He…he said…he said he didn’t care where I ended up as long as it wasn’t with him.” My lip quivered, and I felt tears in my eyes. I swiped at them, angry and embarrassed. They couldn’t fall—that would make my humiliation complete.
“Because of the songs,” Cam muttered, so low I nearly missed his words. He cleared his throat as he popped a Werther’s into his mouth. “Your dad reminds me too much of my own old man. And that makes me sorry for us both.”
I hadn’t gone over to the Graces’ ranch when Cam’s dad was around because I didn’t like the way Mr. Grace spoke to Cam. It was too much like how my dad spoke to me. He’d been angry since he realized I’d helped Cam with that song, reminding me that composing music was our thing and that “it’s all in the family.” I guess that meant I wasn’t supposed to tell other musicians or something. But it’s not like Cam went around blabbing about me. Though, come to think of it, Cam had been annoyed that my father hadn’t credited me on his albums.
I didn’t know what to say to Cam’s comment. And I didn’t like having Steve witness my blubbering. Embarrassment scalded me yet again, and I shrugged. “Whatever.” I sniffled and turned my face away. I shouldn’t have accepted this call. But then I’d be talking to Steve, who still stood in the doorway, his face stiff and unhappy.
“Where are you?” Cam asked.
“We rolled into Nashville today.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow. You can tour with me. I’ll talk to your mom—”
“She’s in Europe,” I said, my voice sounding like someone else’s. “Are you stupid?” My father’s words swirled through my head.
Cam grunted. “Well, then I guess it won’t be a problem for you to hang out with me.”
I turned so I could watch the moonlight glisten over the river. It wasn’t too distant, and it reminded me a little of the lake back home. Aya said that was the prettiest time of night, right after moonrise. Tonight, though, it didn’t calm me. I wanted to rest my head on Aya’s shoulder. I wanted Steve or Cam to hug me.
“Great,” I told him. “Sounds fabulous.” I shoved my foot along the expensive tile, liking the slick feel under my shoe. “But you have better things to do than hang out with me—”
“Like I’ve said before, you remind me of me, but with more talent. Plus, the reason I called was to tell you Asher Smith wants to meet you. He saw your song that first night.” Cam cleared his throat. “Yeah, so he asked about you. He knows you helped me with ‘Sweet Baby Home’.”
My eyes widened. “Asher Smith?”
Cam grinned. “Isn’t he your hero?”
A reluctant smile tugged at my lips. “You are if I can hang out with him.”
Cam laughed. “Consider it done.”
“Seriously?” My head felt light, my body giddy. Asher Smith and Camden Grace. Those guys were way bigger than Quantum. Holy hell.
Take that, Dad.
In that moment, I decided I’d never write another song for my father again. He wanted to call me stupid? Tell me he didn’t want me around? Fine. My songs would be mine. Or for people I chose to give them to, not someone who demanded them.
Cam’s gaze darted up toward Steve, who stood over me like a damn Roman sentinel.
“Tell you what, why don’t you see if your friend—what’s her name?” Cam asked.
“Aya.”
“Cool. Ask her if she wants to come, and you’ll both join my entourage tomorrow. Steve, can you get the kids to the venue tomorrow afternoon? Say three o’clock?”
“Of course. As long as it’s okay with Aya’s mother.”
“Can’t imagine I’m a worse role model than Brad’s been,” Cam muttered.
I had to agree with him. Dad seemed to go out of his way to make Aya uncomfortable.
“Maybe we can collaborate on another song,” Cam said. “And you can sing it onstage.”
The swell of excitement in my belly crashed as I realized what Cam was doing. “I don’t want your pity. That’s what this is. You feel sorry for me.”
He shook his head. “You know we released ‘Sweet Baby Home’ first. The song you wrote. And do you know why?”
Warmth rippled over my skin like a caress. “Nope.”
“Because it’s the best song on the album, Nash. That’s saying something, because I’m a hella good songwriter. But your song is better, and it’s going to blow me into the stratosphere.”
“All right. If you really think the song’s good enough…”
“It definitely is,” Cam said, his tone warm. “Asher thinks so, too. So, we’ll need to get you two together. We’ll talk more about that tomorrow.”
I nodded, and as I ended the call, I felt calmer, almost happy.
Until I remembered my dad’s comments.
“Do you…hear music in your head?” Steve asked after a moment.
I shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“New melodies or other people’s songs?” he asked, his tone a bit urgent.
Weird change of topic. I felt a strange flutter in my belly. It was a tangled mix of dark emotions I couldn’t quite tease apart.
I frowned. “Some of both, I guess.”
“Let’s…ah, let’s get you back to your room,” he said. “We’ll get everything sorted out tomorrow.” He cleared his throat and patted my shoulder in an awkward show of affection.