Page 65 of For Wrath and Redemption
I can tell from the flinch of her eyebrow that she regrets saying it, but it’s not the sentence itself that pisses me off. It’s the truth behind it. I never should have mentioned the transplant.
“Don’t think just because you’ve been up my ass for weeks that you know anything about my demons.”
“I know enough.”
“You know shit.”
“I know you’re never sober. I know you can’t make it through a single day without taking something. Did you not hear me before? I know the signs, and yours might as well be flashing neon. You might have everyone else fooled but not me. I see right through you.”
I feel like I’m being stabbed. I feel like we’ve regressed back to that night in Stockholm when she tore me up and left me to bleed out.
My teeth grind. My jaw aches.
I want to spit what I know at her. I want to slice her open in retaliation, but I know there will be no coming back from that. Any chance I have of winning this game, in any capacity, will crumble. So instead of lashing out, instead of hitting her with every last thing I’ve discovered about her own demons, I bite my tongue.
I bite my tongue, I play on her guilt, and I pick at her unhealed wounds.
“Fine.” I nod and step away from her. “Fine, Claire. You’re right. And if you want to leave, do it. I won’t stop you. I’ve been dealing with this alone, and I can do it again. I don’t need you.”
I watch her face go from anger, to regret, to concern, just like I wanted. My strategic move worked, and I feel like a complete sleazeball. I feel like my father. I don’t trust myself not to take it back, so I say nothing else. I walk to my side of the room and get changed. And when the bathroom door closes and the shower turns on, I drop my head between my knees and breathe.
“Play the whole board,” I whisper to myself. “This is chess, not checkers. Play the whole fucking board.”
As much as it kills me, I mentally add another tally in my column. I’m winning. That’s all that matters now.
“Hey.”
Claire flicks her eyes up to me briefly before training them back on her laptop.
“Hey.”
“You coming?”
She shakes her head. “No, thanks. I have to finalize our next few events, and I’m not eager to jump out of a plane. Have fun, though.”
Sav’s using our last day in Madrid to go skydiving. She tries to do it in every country we play in, and she tries like hell to get all of us to go with her. Everyone else usually does, but I’ve skipped all of them since Paris.
I head back into the bedroom, grab my book and my glasses, then take them to the couch and drop onto the cushion beside her. Claire turns her head toward me and arches a brow.
“Sav said you were leaving at ten. It’s nine. Don’t you have to meet them? You can’t be late if you want to be back before soundcheck.”
I put on my glasses and open my book. “I’m staying with you.”
“Why?”
“You’re my nanny, Claire. I can’t go anywhere without you.”
“That’s ridiculous. You’ll be with your entire band, your manager, and at least three security details. I’m not worried about it.”
I sigh and make eye contact with her. “Maybe not, but I’d rather be here with you.”
Her head jerks back slightly. She runs her eyes over my face. Then, without another word, she goes back to her laptop.
We sit in the quiet for the next hour. The only sound in the room is her clacking on her keyboard and me turning my book pages. I hate how much I enjoy it.
Then the energy shifts. I’m too fucking tuned into her. I watch her body go rigid out of the corner of my eye. I feel her breathing stop, then quicken. When I turn to look at her fully, she’s staring wide-eyed at her computer, her mouth gaping open in disbelief. I lean closer to look at the screen. She slaps it shut, but not before I see the signature on the email.
“An email from my father?” I ask slowly, working to keep the anger from my voice.
