Page 74 of Songbird: Black Kite
Alex was a solid dude.
“You guys working on new material?” he asked with fake casualness, sitting down in the chair across the desk from me. “Anything good?”
I stared at him, considering how much to tell him. I may have been ready to forgive and forget, but that didn’t mean I trusted him.
Or his weakness for Victoria Castor.
“Just messing around some. Killin’ time.”
“Right,” he said, clearly not believing me, but knowing it wasn’t his place anymore.
“You had something you wanted to talk about?” I asked, wanting to stay on track.
Lewis swallowed, his gaze darting around the room while he considered what to say. I watched him, taking in his expression as he took in the walls and shelves that were decorated with our memories, photographs and trophies, things we’d earned as a team.
I could see the hurt trying to break through his expression. I could also see the exact moment when he clamped it down.
“I want to play on the songs, Hawk,” he finally said, and I waited, needing to hear more. “I want to be a part ofBlack Kite, even if it is the last time.” He licked his lips, swallowing thickly before he continued. “I know I fucked it all up. I know that. But I’ve been thinking about it, man. We started this journey together and we’ve been through a lot of shit, the four of us. And if it’s gonna end, I’d like to believe that we can finish it together, too. For old time’s sake, you know?”
He finished with a shrug, then sat back, arms crossed defensively while he watched me watch him.
Finally, after giving myself a moment to absorb his words, I exhaled, running a hand through my hair in frustration.
“You didn’t fuck shit up any more than I did, Lewis,” I said with a sigh, and his eyebrows rose. “I knew you were into her. I knew it from the first time I saw you two together. But at the time, it was me that she wanted, and the shitty, petty part of me liked that.” I shook my head, dropping my hand down to toy with my bracelet again. “I should have done the right thing—the mature thing—and stepped back. Even if she didn’t want you,” I said, and he frowned, but I continued. “At the time, man, she didn’t. But that still didn’t mean I should have ever touched her. That’s on me, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
We sat in silence, both of us lost in our memories, floating in a sea of choices and regrets. I had thought for so long that my life would have been so much better if I’d never met Victoria Castor, and I wondered now if Lewis sometimes thought the same.
He may have been in love with her for twenty years, but that didn’t matter because Tori didn’t know the first thing about love. She only understood possession, ownership, and greed. That’s why she’d wanted me all those years ago, why she’d worked so hard to blackmail me into a relationship that was as fake as a Hollywood housewife’s lips. It was because our band was the jewel in her daddy’s crown, and as the lead singer, she felt entitled to have me on her arm.
I didn’t believe she had ever really loved me, not for a second. But she loved what being with me had done for her, how being my wife made her look. And she’d held on to that for as long as she could.
Until I’d finally found a way to gain the upper hand.
“So, what about the music, man?” he finally asked, obviously not comfortable with anymore feelings talk. I shook my head.
“I’ll have to ask the guys, make it a group decision.” His jaw clenched, but he nodded, understanding. “We only have one track that we’re considering so far, but it still needs a bass line. Alex laid something out, but to be honest, it’s a little weak.” I pointed a finger at Lewis. “And don’t you fuckin’ tell him I said that, either.”
He held up his hands, a small smile lifting one corner of his mouth.
“Once we figure out what to do about the second song, we’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks, man.” He stood, stepping toward the desk, his hand outstretched for me to shake. I stood too, but before I could accept, Lewis paused, his gaze dropping to the desk. “Where the hell did you get those?”
“What?” I asked, completely confused.
“The letters. The ones with the feathers on ’em. How the hell did you get those?”
I froze, my heart racing as I followed his gaze, seeing that I had left the pile of Wren’s envelopes on the desk after the last time I’d read them. I had spent so much time in the attic, I hadn’t even been back into the study to put them away again.
“The fuck you mean?” I asked, placing one hand protectively over the envelopes, suddenly extra possessive. “They were sent to me.”
“Nah, man. Those are Tori’s letters. How the hell did you get them out of our safe?”
He reached for them, and I reacted without thought, my hands sweeping the stack of envelopes off the desk and into the drawer before I leaned forward, glaring at him.
“Lewis,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “I’m going to be real clear here. Those letters are mine. They are addressed to me, personally, so if you’ve seen any—if Tori has any of these letters in her possession—I want you to tell me right fucking now. Do you understand me?”
“Hawk, what—?”
