Page 20 of In the Stars

“I’d never want that, Wes. You know me.”

“No, I don’t. And you don’t know me anymore either.” He lifts a shaky hand to push his hair behind his ears. “What do you want?”

“I have to…My dad, he’s…I…”

“Fucking spit it out,” he says loudly.

“Your mom died,” I blurt out with no grace. “I’m sorry, but she died.”

Wesley sits back in his chair, crossing his arms and dropping his chin to his chest. “Okay.”

“I can help with arrangements. Anything you need.”

A mix between a scoff and a grunt leaves his throat. “Anything I need? I want you to burn that bitch’s fucking body and toss the ashes in hell. Think you can swing that?”

I shake my head slowly. “I can arrange to have her cremated. I’ll need to?—”

“I don’t care what you do with her. I’m not paying for anything either. She’s the reason I’m like this. Did I tell you she gave me my first pill?” I don’t get a chance to answer before he continues. “After her boyfriend raped me for, I don’t know, the fiftieth fucking time, she gave me pills to dull the pain. No love, no comfort.”

I gasp. I figured Wes might have been drunk or high that night, but I had no ideahis own mothergave him the pills. No wonder he’s so fucking bitter toward her. I would be too. Like Dad said, she’s a right bitch for what she did to him.

He continues to spew more venom, and I’m powerless to stop him. “She made me who I am, and I fucking hate her for it. Now that she’s dead, I can move on with my fucking life.” He stands up and rubs shaky hands down his thighs.

I initially assume it’s because he’s angry until I see the tremors have wracked his entire body. “Are you okay?”

He nods and weaves past me, knocking on the door. “Don’t worry about me anymore. You came to deliver the message, now it’s done. We’re over, Jaxon. Go. And don’t come back.” The door opens, and a young woman in scrubs helps Wesley exit the room with a hand hovering over his back but not touching him.

I take the seat at the table, looking at the chair Wesleyjust vacated. I wish…Fuck, that didn’t go anything like I thought it would. Not that I expected him to jump into my arms and tell me how much he missed me, but I expected something else.

My heart thumps heavily, sending a lance of pain through me. A tear slides down my face, and I regret coming to deliver this news. Dad would have handled it better. Given him some kind of comfort, talked to him like he mattered. Not discuss the death of his mother and offer to cremate her. God, what is wrong with me?

I fucked up.

Once again, I fucked up.

EIGHT

WESLEY

Three weeks later…

For the most part,the tremors have stopped, but the nausea, insomnia, and lethargy haven’t. I feel like shit every day and I’m sure I look worse. Fuck, I just need a drink or a quick bump to get me level, then I can work this program. But going cold turkey like this fucking hurts.

Worse than the physical pain is the mental head fuck. Without the drugs and the drink, thoughts intrude. Thoughts I don’t want or need.

Thoughts about Jaxon.

He looked really good. Or at least I think he did. A week into my forced recovery, I couldn’t focus on much but putting one foot in front of the other. Surviving the next day, hour, minute, second in front of me.

I’m still in disbelief that he showed up. It took me a few days to realize he wasn’t an apparition and that he came to tell me that Suzette died.

Fuck her. I thought she’d died years ago. After I signedmy record deal, she tried to get back in my life, even attempting to release some tell-all book about me and my childhood. But an injunction from my lawyers and threats to sue her into the dirt made her slink back into her bullshit corner and leave me the fuck alone.

I’m glad she’s dead. One less fucked-up parent walking the Earth. Now she can join Perry in hell.

Even with my brain fog, I can remember how Jaxon looked. Same steel gray eyes that were a touch too serious. Same slim body, though he’s filled out, his muscles pulling at his fancy suit jacket. In the years we’ve been separated, he’s let his facial hair grow, a nice goatee that connects, giving him a distinguished appearance.

He must have followed in his father’s footsteps and become a lawyer. He looked the part. It suits him.

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