Page 63 of The Final Deal

Maybe this is what you get for the bullshit you pulled running away to Atlanta, I tell myself as I hang up my guitar on my side of the guitar corner in the studio.You still have penance to pay. Especially with Ty in the picture.

The void in my stomach grows three times bigger. Maybe everyone in my life is a two-faced liar, but so am I.

I have my reasons, though. I’m keeping everyone safe and ensuring everything goes according to plan without a hitch. We’re uncomfortably far from New Year’s Ball, and I need everyone to stay fucking cool and do what I need them to do.

You ever think that’s what they’re doing, too? Keeping you safe and out of harm’s way? Making sure you don’t leave them again, like you’re trying to make sure they don’t leave you?

“Fuck,” I sigh as I plop onto couch. I roll my eyes. “Just shut the fuck up.”

The door opens.

Adrian eases inside with a plate of food. “Brought you dinner.”

Even though he hasn’t done anything this time, I give him the shoulder when I catch a glimpse of a second body filing in after him.

Adrian places the plate on the coffee table with a big glass of iced tea; looks like someone made pork chops and mashed potatoes with gravy—one of my favorites.

Only one of them knows how to make it the way I like it with a golden, crispy fried crust and white gravy.

My stomach rumbles.

I know the deal Zak made was literally life or death, but adding it on top of learning what my mother did… It’s too much, and I don’t want to talk about it right now.

I scoot until my butt sits on the edge of the couch so I’m close enough to the coffee table and grab the fork and knife. “Thank you,” I mumble as I scoop up some mashed potatoes with gravy on top.

Adrian kisses the top of my head and pads away. The door opens but doesn’t close.

“Steph, I’m sorry.”

I ignore Zak’s apology, cutting into a pork chop and praying they leave before they realize tears are streaming down my face.

Eventually, the door closes.

The fork and knife clatter against the plate as I drop them and cover my face. He finally told me his deep, dark secret; myown grips my throat with acid, daring me to run out the door, chase them down, and spill it to the twins.

But telling them about Ty would be the end.

I can spin it the same way—I was forced, too, arm twisted to the breaking point that I had to sign my life away to their archenemy—but my past sins would only come back to bite me in the ass.

I ran off to Atlanta, I spent that time with Ty, and I told them he went back. If they catch me in this lie after everything, it’s over.

Drying the rivers on my cheeks, I pick up my phone and scroll my emails, scanning subject lines and senders. Mom and Dad’s lawyer sent over documents to sign for NYB. Ty closed on some property, building has started, grand opening is early spring, and he’s leaving the venue’s roster up to me.

Sniffling and setting my phone aside, I know what needs to be done: keep my head down, be on my best behavior, and keep Ty appeased.

If I can make it to New Year’s Eve and get shit done, I’ll be in the clear.

I groan as I stand from the couch and head into the house with my dirty dishes in hand. Even if I ate it while crying, Zak makes a mean fried chop and gravy. Think we’re both going to make each other lose our hot figures making each other tasty food in the years to come.

That’s okay, I think as I shut the kitchen door behind me and wash my dishes. I’ll take happy weight together over anything else.

Knocking sounds behind me. I grab a towel to dry my hands and turn around to find Adrian.

He points at my dishes in the drying rack beside the sink. “He was too upset to eat anything.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t say anything as I replace the towel on a hook above the sink.

“He made that deal under duress, you know,” Adrian murmurs as he comes to my side. “He didn’t mean it and didn’t go through with it. He never would’ve.”

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