“We’re done here Barnes. I believe my lawyers made that perfectly clear when they served you with the restraining order. There’s nothing ambiguous in it. Right down to the fine print,” Jack added.
There was something going on between them, something I could sense involved me, but I couldn’t take the tense way Jack’s hands dug into my shoulders or the cold expression on Harrison’s face any longer. I closed the door slowly in his face, but I didn’t turn around to face Jack. I couldn’t.
A lifetime passed in the silence that settled over my tiny apartment with the snick of the catch on the front door. Time in which my entire world collapsed into rubble.
At last I turned from the door and walked back toward my bedroom. Jack reached for me, but the touch of his calloused hand on my arm only reminded me who he really was.
“I can explain, Clio. Let me explain.” His voice, low and harsh, ripped through me, making my insides churn.
I kept walking to my bedroom where I gathered up his clothes. Meeting him at the door to my bedroom, I shoved his clothes into his chest. “You need to go now, Jack.”
“Clio. Let’s talk about this.”
“This is my house, so I get to decide.”
“Not before you let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.” His eyes flinched, but otherwise, he stayed silent. “I always knew your whole world revolved around your music. Even when we were in high school, that was obvious. It’s what makes you who you are,” I said sadly. “But I grew up in a house where my parents’ passions didn’t include me. Until I gave birth to Angel, I didn’t come first in anyone’s life. She’s not growing up invisible like I did.” I stared down at my daughter, innocently sleeping in her bassinet.
“Go out and be a rock star, Jack. That’s your dream. You have no choice but to be who you were meant to be.”
He took a step toward me. “Clio, I’d give it all up for you.”
The anguish in his voice, the pain on his face tore at me, but I had to let him go. “And do what? Be miserable because you can’t play anymore? How long would we last before you started resenting me, resenting Angel?”
I sucked air in through my nose and clamped my teeth together to hold back the sobs burning the back of my throat. When Jack tried to reach for me again, I sidestepped him, giving myself time to control my voice. “Whenever you want to see Angel, we’ll work something out.”
Somehow, I’d made it to the door and stood there holding it open for him. I squeezed my eyes shut and wrapped my free arm around myself, trying to hold in the agony threatening to erupt out of me.
“You don’t trust me. Jesus, Clio. After everything we’ve done together these last weeks, how can you not trust me?”
His phone sounded in the pocket of his jeans, interrupting him, the ringtone a heavy metal riff I recognized as the one he’d set for Blu.
“You better answer that,” I croaked around the lump in my throat.
Jack stared at me with tortured eyes, but he fished his phone out of his jeans pocket and finger punched the screen. “What do you want, Blu?” He listened for a second. “Now? I thought we agreed to meet at noon.”
I opened the door wider.
“Fine. I’m in Fort Collins. I can be there in about an hour.”
He shoved his phone back in his pocket and dropped his Converse to the floor before he dragged his T-shirt down over his chest. Then he threw himself into the chair by the door and shoved his feet into his shoes.
“Our conversation isn’t over, Clio. Just postponed is all. I’ll be back this evening to continue it,” Jack said.
Before he brushed past me and out my door, he clamped his hands on my shoulders. “We’re not done, baby.” His brutal kiss tasted of fear and desperation before it gentled into regret. Then he was gone.
I closed the door behind him and sagged against it. “I’m afraid we are,” I whispered to the empty apartment that echoed around me in the silence of Jack’s absence.
Chapter Eighteen
Clio
Jack didn’t return to my apartment that night. He told me a couple of days before he left that the band was gearing up to go back into the studio to record their new album. When he talked about the songs he’d been working on for it, his body glowed from head to toe with happiness and excitement. Every time he talked about playing or the band or touring, it was obvious that Jack Whitehorse was placed on this planet to share his music.
He warned me that sometimes recording sessions could go on literally for days when the band was in the zone. Once he headed to Denver to record with the other guys, there could be days on end when the most I could expect from him might be a short phone call in the middle of the night. He said he’d work hard to avoid doing that to me with the baby and all, but he also said he didn’t want to go a full twenty-four hours without hearing my voice for at least a minute or two.
But that conversation had taken place before Harrison Barnes darkened my door.
When Jack hadn’t called by the time I’d bathed Angel, fed her, and put her to bed, I knew the band had started its most recent recording session in the zone. After the way things had gone this morning with Harrison and him, it didn’t surprise me not to hear from Jack all day. Still, he’d said we’d talk about it when he returned tonight. So I didn’t slide the chain over the door when I went to bed. Nor did I sleep during the four hours between when I put Angel to bed and when she awoke for her 2:00 a.m. feeding.
After I put her back to bed, I drank a cup of warm milk and turned off my phone. When I went to bed the second time, exhaustion combined with the nightcap helped to shut my brain off enough to fall asleep. In the early morning after Angel woke me to start the day, I discovered I hadn’t needed to bother turning off my phone. No one had tried to call or text me at all.
Play For Me Page 18