Page 50 of For Wrath and Redemption
Jonah blows out a slow breath and shakes his head. “That’s rough.”
I shrug again. “You know the funny thing? What you said about me being my family’s pride and joy? I never go home. I spent Thanksgiving and Christmas working so I could avoid the discomfort and awkwardness of a family get-together. My mom married my best friend’s dad, so not only is she with my brother, but she’s my stepsister.” I huff out a laugh. “Half of my family hates me.”
“Wait...your brother is with his stepsister?”
He’s trying so hard not to look weirded out that I laugh again.
“One big happy family.”
“Isn’t that, like, kind of incestuous?”
I snort. “No. My mom didn’t marry her dad until we were seventeen. And anyway, you don’t have room to talk.”
He arches a brow. “I never fucked my own stepsister.”
I arch a brow back. “No, but this band is one tangled web of love affairs. Sav and Torren. Torren and Callie. You and Callie. You and Torren.”
“I never fucked Torren,” he protests with a grin. “I just fuckedwithhim.”
I laugh louder. “Whatever. My point is, thisbandis incestuous. Mabel’s the only one who hasn’t had sex with one of you, but maybe it’s only a matter of time.”
Now he laughs. “Nah. Mabes is bi, but she prefers women, and Sav is only about dick. And now she’s only about Levi. Mabel’s safe.”
We fall back into silence, gazes locked, both smiling slightly despite ripping ourselves open. The tear tracks on my cheeks have cooled, and the longer I look at Jonah, the warmer I feel. Then I realize his hands are still clasping mine, his mangled thumb rubbing softly back and forth over my skin.
I release myself from him and sit back. He doesn’t, though. He stays with his elbows on his knees, invading the space in front of me.
“Thanks for sharing that with me, Trouble,” he says, his voice low.
Goosebumps prickle my arms and the back of my neck. I force a tight smile. “Ditto.”
Finally, mercifully, he sits back in his seat. I take a deep breath, then stand. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
“Your espresso is probably cold.”
“It’s fine. I’ll still drink it.”
Then I quickly make my way to the bathroom. I barely get the door shut behind me before I heave foamy bile into the sink.
15
JONAH
That was a mistake.
I thought telling her something personal was a calculated risk to get ahead. I thought I could handle it. It wasn’t supposed to humanize her. It wasn’t supposed to make her relatable.
Understanding her was a strategic move. It backfired. It’s been two days, and I’m still fucking rattled.
I stick my hands in my hair and pull. My knees bounce. My chest aches. I try to fend off the panic, but I fail. I’ve been failing a fucking lot lately. And because I apparently can’t handle anything these days, I go to my stash and chase the pills with one of the airplane bottles I bought off a roadie. I swallow the self-loathing and anxiety with the liquor.
I drop onto my bed and listen to the shower. My current weakness is in there, washing the sweat off her body from our workout. She’ll come out smelling like lavender and sugar, and I’ll have to go back to surviving on shallow breaths. Oxygen deprivation is the only way I can tolerate being in confined spaces with Claire Davis. It’s not surprising. Breath play has always been my kink, and she has such a pretty little neck.
We’ve got another partition in this hotel room. It’s the same kind as the one we had in Stockholm. I can see her silhouette through it. It’s such a strange form of temptation. I’m attracted to her shadow and captivated by her trauma. Drawn to darkness and pain. There’s probably a song in there somewhere, but the creativity disappears as thechemical haze descends. I haven’t written a song in years. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ve lost the ability.
I pick up my phone and open my social media profile. Claire’s posted more since the “Landslide” cover. There’s a carousel of pictures from the Stockholm shows.Stockholm, it’s been realis the caption. A smile forms on my lips. It sounds like something I’d post, but it’s funny thinking of it in Claire’s sexy voice.
I scroll through the carousel of photos. Most are of me, but there are a few of the whole band. I didn’t even know she was taking pictures at every show. Something about that sends a wave of warmth over my body.
