Page 59 of For Wrath and Redemption
I fall asleep grinning, replaying scenes from the day in Belém. At some point, my dreams turn heated. Stolen kisses. Possessive stares. Sensual caresses. And just before it becomes full-on X-rated, reality crashes through.
Jonah turns into Conrad. He says terrible things. He belittles me. Berates me. Beats me down into myself until my own insecurities are crashing over me, stealing my breath and my power. Drowning me in guilt.
Women do these things when they’ve been scorned.
He’s right. I have done terrible, terrible things. Broken hearts. Ruined lives. My best friend flashes in my head. My brother. Their son.
And then I wake up.
Jonah’s deep breathing is the only sound in the dark room, and quietly, I climb out of my bed and tiptoe into the bathroom. I empty my stomach into the toilet with tears streaming down my face. I rinse my mouth twice, swishing for at least thirty seconds each time, and then I brush my teeth with my eyes closed so I don’t have to see my reflection in the mirror. I take a Xanax, lie back down in bed, and take comfort in the familiar feeling of emptiness.
I tell myself that I’ll call my therapist in the morning.
The first show in Lisbon is a good one.
Just like every show in Stockholm, this one is sold out. The energy in the stadium is palpable, and I find myself buzzing along with it. The excitement becomes contagious, and for the first time, I watch the entire show. I, of course, take photos for Jonah’s social media, but I pay more attention to the show outside of the viewfinder this time. I let myself reallyseeThe Hometown Heartless perform, and the experience is unlike any live show I’ve ever seen.
Sav’s stage presence is legendary. She plays the crowd like she plays her guitar. She laughs and it vibrates through the audience. I feel every ounce of emotion she puts behind the songs she sings, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that she’ll go down in history as a music icon. She’s larger than life, and everyone in this stadium knows it.
It’s not just her, though. The whole band has a visible, almost tangible, chemistry. They’re so in sync, so tapped into each other, that I suddenly understand how they’ve made it this long. I get how they managed to hold on through all the challenges and dark times. I get why they’re fighting so hard for Jonah. They’re a family, and I’m envious.
A feeling of sadness washes over me. What would it be like to have something like that? Where every flaw is known and your family loves you, anyway. Where you’re not alone when you’re hurting or struggling. Where people fight for you when you can’t fight for yourself. I can’t even fathom it. Even in the best friendship I’ve ever had, I still kept secrets. I still spent every day pretending to besomething I wasn’t. And when it mattered the most, I let down the people I loved.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t even realize the show is coming to an end. The crowd roars so loud that I have to put my hands over my ears, but I can’t help but laugh at the smirk on Sav’s face. She always looks like she’s about to pull a prank or tell a secret. Her charisma is unmatched.
“Lisbon, you’ve been beautiful. This is a show we won’t forget.”
Sav’s grin grows as she pauses, and it feels like the crowd takes a collective inhale. They’re waiting for something, and I don’t understand it until Sav leans in to speak once more.
“Now, Lisbon, even though this is good night...”
“It’s not goodbye,” the crowd shouts back in unison, and Sav’s laugh booms through the stadium.
“But just in case, so you don’t forget us, back there is Mabel on drums, over here is Jonah on guitar, that’s Torren on bass, my name is Sav Loveless, and we’re The Hometown Heartless. Thank you so much, Lisbon! We love you! Have a great night.”
The audience cheers as the lights dim, then one by one, the band members walk off stage. Then the crowd starts to stomp and chantencore,encore, and I swear I can feel the stadium shake. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn in the morning that it registered as an earthquake.
The chanting and stomping don’t stop until the lights come back up just enough to show four shadowy figures moving back to their instruments. The chants turn into cheers, the stage lights brighten, and The Hometown Heartless launch into another song. This one is the only song I recognize, and I’m excited to be able to sing along on the chorus.
I understand fandoms now. There’s something to be said for loving something so fiercely and bonding with millions of people over that love. It’s a connection unlike any other, especially on a scale this massive. When the final notes of the encore song fade out and the stadium lights come on, I’m actually sad that it’s over. Sad and already looking forward to tomorrow’s show.
Because I was standing behind the barricade, I’m able to avoid the mass exodus of bodies as everyone pours through the exit doors. Instead of going to the dressing room, though, I have one of the security guards take me back to the hotel. As amazing as that show was, I needjust a little longer before I have to see Jonah again. With any luck, I can pretend to be asleep before he gets back to the suite.
He's messing with my head. I can’t tell if he’s playing me, or if he’s really just accepted me being here. I don’t like not knowing. It’s an obstacle I don’t know how to tackle. Worse, I don’t know if I want to.
This morning, he made my double espresso and was ready for the gym even before I was. He was not only cooperative during our guitar video session, but he complimented me multiple times. And then there was the touching, the smiles, the eye contact...
It just...
It just made my brain go a little fuzzy, and that’s the last thing that needs to happen. It’s not a good idea to fall for Jonah Hendrix, but I’m not an idiot. I know I’ve got a crush. It’s hard to avoid when he’s being so...
I don’t even know.
Attentive? Kind?
Suggestive...
But the part that messes with me the most? I know for a fact that if I wanted something to happen, it could happen. Jonah Hendrix is a slut, and no matter what his motives are, if I wanted to fall into bed with him, he’d be all for it. The little comments he makes? The invitations? They’re not just jokes. There’s truth behind them.
