Page 129 of Fame and Obsession

We’re getting off track. “So, what’s a Faith Addison?”

Her face brightens. “Not a what, a who… Faith is my best friend from college.”

I’m not sure how to approach the formerly taboo subject. I don’t want to spook her by probing too hard, but it’s a golden opportunity I can’t pass up.

“Speaking of college—”

“Julian, don’t…” Her face falls. “Look, you’ve gotten more out of me than anyone ever has. Isn’t that enough for now?”

I have to ask. “Other than Harlow, you mean.” When she stiffens, I know I have my answer. “He knows, doesn’t he?”

“I’m not doing this with you.” She stomps past me in her usual petulant fashion. Entering the kitchen, she rummages through cabinets, slamming each one when she doesn’t find what she’s looking for.

“Are you really mad at me, or are these pregnancy hormones?” I ask, hiding my balls behind the couch. I’m not entirely convinced she doesn’t have that damn stun gun on her, and I’m not taking any chances after she happily pointed a shotgun at them.

Taking a glass out, she slams another cabinet before filling it with water. “What about you, Julian?”

“What about me?”

“Let’s talk about Billy Lamee.”

“Let’s not,” I shoot back—a little harsher than I mean to.

She tosses the glass in the sink. “Take me home.”

“No.”

She has the nerve to look shocked. “What do you mean, no?”

“Just what I said, no. I’m not taking you anywhere until you tell me everything that Harlow knows.”

I’m being a dick, but it makes me crazy knowing Gage Harlow knows things about the mother of my kid that I don’t. Phoebe and I haven’t known each other long, but like it or not, we’re linked for life.

It’s time for the secrets to stop.

“You’re not playing fair, Julian,” she says, crossing her arms over her stomach. It’s a new habit I’ve come to recognize.

“I never said I play fair. I play to win.”

Rubbing her stomach again, she faces the deck and chews her lip as if in deep thought. I have a feeling I know what she’s about to say.

Once she told me the story of her mother’s death, I knew where her scars had come from—although I didn’t want to believe it.

A parent’s purpose is to protect a child, not destroy them.

“Billy Lamee was a great guy,” I begin, staring at my clasped hands. “I met him in college, along with Ty. He was one of those dudes everyone loved. No one had anything bad to say about him. Lam would’ve given you the shirt off his back.”

“What happened?”

A chill runs through me as that night comes back in vivid detail. “My girlfriend dumped me that day for one of my friends. They’d been sneaking around behind my back for over four months, and I had no idea. I dealt with it like I always dealt with my problems—booze and women.” I stop, waiting for her judgment. Instead, she just nods, encouraging me to continue. “That night, I was so lit, I forgot I’d told my brother I’d pick him up from a party. Billy didn’t drink. His mom was a raging alcoholic and took off when he was a kid. He refused to touch the stuff. So he went to get Ryker for me.”

Her voice softens as her hand touches my arm. “He never made it, did he?”

“No. A drunk driver hit him head on and killed him before he got there. After that, I went down a huge spiral. I blamed myself. I swore it should’ve been me in that car, and I wanted to punish myself for being so selfish. For close to a year, I drank and fucked myself stupid.” I know that part had to be hard for her to hear, but she wanted real.

This is as real as it gets.

“Vivian?” she asks hesitantly.

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