by Vivian Lux
"Your uncle..."
"Raped me. Yes."
"He..."
"Used his fingers. But not because he didn't try the other way." My heart thudded in my chest. "But I was too small. He didn't fit."
True made a sound like a sob and then suddenly I was sobbing too. "I don't talk about it," I wept. "I don't want to. I don't want to talk about it with anyone, no one knows, I don't want them to look at me, I don't want them to know me, I don't want to talk about it because I don't want it to be true..." My breath caught.
My stomach dropped.
My eyes opened wide.
"I don't want it to be true," I repeated, quieter now.
Chapter Thirty-Two
True
What I wanted to do was leap from the bed, borrow Miggsy's gun and go find this guy. This so-called uncle who'd touched and hurt a little girl.
But that little girl was a woman now. My woman. And she needed me. So no matter how badly I wanted to kill something, all I could do was stroke her hair.
Her tears soaked my chest, running in little rivulets down my bicep as it pillowed her head. I stroked her hair and made soothing noises that meant nothing to her and even less to me.
But there was nothing else I could do except...
"My mother," I said, clearing my throat. "She always told me there's no shame in the truth."
She didn't answer, I didn't expect her to. But she inhaled a little and that's how I knew she was listening.
"My mom was about as beaten down as they came," I said. "If anyone had reason for feeling sorry for themselves, it was her. Married to a no-good guy, barely an eighth-grade education, completely dependent on the charity of her family." I brushed her hair back slowly. "But she wasn't ashamed. 'Ain't no shame in the truth,' she told me."
"I'm not ashamed," Piper whispered fiercely.
"Good," I said. "I believe you."
She was quiet again. "I was never ashamed of it, but I did blame myself for tearing apart my family. I thought that if I hadn't told my parents, that they'd have stayed together, and we'd still be a family."
"That might have happened, or it might not have. But you told the truth. However they chose to handle it is on them."
"My dad chose to leave."
"Then fuck him," I hissed.
The noise she made was nothing like a laugh, but then again it was completely. I could feel her tensing again and smoothed her hair again. "You've been holding on to this blame for so long. Now I'm not smart enough to say whether or not you should have, but I can tell you that there are somethings you hold tight to, like your brother... and me." She squeezed herself against me. "And there are some things you hold loosely. And some things you can just let go."
I bent my lips to her forehead. "You remember I was telling you about my granddaddy?"
"And his presents?"
I smiled. "Yeah. So, this one afternoon, I'm out in front yard, just this dirt patch in the front of my gramma's trailer, and his buddy drove up and dropped him off from work. He came up to me with one of those super bouncy balls, the kind that you throw down and they go flying up over your head. Probably cost him like a quarter or something, but I was thrilled like Christmas morning."
She made another small sound, but she wasn't crying anymore so I kept talking. "So, he watches me with that ball, running around like a maniac, and then he calls me over really quiet like. 'Cash, lemme show you something real quick.'"
"He didn't call you True?"
"Nah," I grimaced. "Cause that's what people called my daddy and he hated that man."
"Um, do you want me to still call you True?"
I kissed her hard. "I want you to call me what you want to call me."
"Even Asshole?" she said, with a small laugh. I was so fucking happy to hear that laugh that I nodded in the dark. "Absolutely. Call me Asshole. Whatever you want, baby."
"So what happened with the ball?"
"As you might well imagine, I was an especially stubborn and possessive child..."
"Never..."
I grinned. "And I was afraid he was going to take my new toy away when he called me, so I ran off around the back of the trailer. My brother, if I did that, would come chasing after me, ready to wail on me for being a little shit. But my granddad, he just waited on the stoop for a while, and then came strolling around the corner all casual like, like he forgot I'd run off in the first place. 'Hey Cash, there's something I want to show you,' he said, his voice all low and composed and when I saw he wasn't mad I figured I'd pressed my luck enough and I came out from my hiding place."
"Smart kid."
"Not even close. So, he says, 'Lemme see that ball,' and I reluctantly handed it over, figuring he was going to change his mind about giving it to me since I'd disobeyed him." I cleared my throat, remembering. "Instead he just held it in his hand. 'See how, when I hold it nice and loose like this, just a nice easy grip, it stays with me?" And I nodded, more confused than I'd been in my life at that point. 'Now watch.'"
"What did he do?"
"Well, he squeezed that rubber ball so tightly that it slipped from his hand and went bouncing crazy all over the dirt. I laughed and ran after it, but he snatched it out of the air like a goddamned magician and I just stared at him with my little mouth hanging open."
"Why did he do that?"
"To teach me a lesson I'm never going to forget for as long as I live." I loosened my grip on her just a fraction, just enough for her to feel it. "He told me, 'Cash, you hold onto something too tight, it's gonna find a way to break free. Same with the people you love, boy. You can't squeeze them too tight or they're gonna slip right through your fingers. Hold on loosely, little man. Don't cling.'"
I could hear her swallow hard and I tightened my grip again. "I love you Piper. How tightly should I hold you?"
She pulled me close to her. "I can't tell you," she said. "But I can promise you that I'll always tell you when it needs to be tighter."
Chapter Thirty-Three
Piper
After we'd spent so many days in the studio just wasting time, the speed at which we finished the album seemed almost anticlimactic.
"That's a wrap, kids!" Alan called through the mic. The last track, a blistering blues-based screamer Rane called 'Broken Wings' just needed the final mix.
"I never thought I'd hear those words," Balzac grumbled, setting down his bass and grabbing his bag.
"Thank god," Lowell muttered under his breath, ripping off his headphones. "Zoe's got a fucking OB appointment in..." He checked his phone. "Shit, twenty-five minutes."
"Holy shit, everyone's got places to be now," Jane observed. "So, is that like...it?"
"Yo!" Rane bellowed. Everyone froze in their tracks. He pushed himself away from the wall, looking up from his phone and where he was very blatantly texting Maddie. "Can I just say something?"
Low looked at his phone again. "If you can take two minutes to say it."
Keir muttered something profane.
"Look," Rane said haltingly, clearing his throat. "I know it's not like the old days. When we had nothing better to do than just jam all day together. We've got lives and girlfriends..."
"And boyfriends," I interjected.
"Damn straight," Balzac nodded.
"No shit really? You and Jason are official?" Low interrupted, turning to Balzac. "Zoe's gonna shit!"
"So's Scarlett," Keir laughed. "Dude, that's awesome."
Balzac looked down and grumbled something, turning red.
"Anyway!" Rane laughed, clapping his hands. "Shit's going on. Non-band shit. But we can't just drift into separate lives and have this just be our fucking day job." He cleared his throat again and lowered his voice. "I think... No, I know that what makes us work so damn well is that we're a fucking family." He turned and looked at Jane who was smiling nervously. "Welcome to the fucking family, by the way. Mind the dysfunction."
She pulled at a strand of her coppery hair. "Does this make me the redheaded stepchild?"
"There's always place for you, if you want it. Just say the fucking word. If things get too fucked with the New York crew, give us a call, okay?" He looked around to see us all nodding. "Right, the family has spoken." He looked back up at Low. "There, I think that was less than two minutes."
"Well shit man," Balzac grumbled. "Now you got me feeling all guilty."
"Fucking good," Rane grinned. "You deserve it."
"Okay," I piped up. Once more everyone turned to stare at me like they'd forgotten I was capable of speech. "So, we've got shit going on now and aren't a bunch of bored teenagers with nothing better to do. So, we have to figure shit out ahead of time." I looked directly at Rane. "That means we act like adults and fucking schedule time together."
"Yeah," he nodded. "Okay. So, when can we party together again, huh? Shall I call your secretary?"
I smiled, which seemed to take him aback. "We just finished an album and we've got a new family member." I smiled at Jane. "We can do better than party. We can jam."
"You talking about a show?"
I spread my hands. "That's what we do, right? Get together and play?"
"I can call Keith," Keir said, already on the phone. "Have him book a small venue. VIPs only."
I licked my lips, a small bead of excitement starting to grow. "Superfans only."
"Like a contest or something?"
"Right," Rane added. "Like they have to do something and the prize is the show."
"And coming onstage with us?" I asked.
The guys looked at me like I'd sprung three heads again. Low looked at me, confused. "You'd be okay with that, Pep?"
I nodded. "Only if I can decide on the fan."
"You've got someone in mind?"
I nodded licking my lips again, remembering the infectious joy on True's face when he'd played with us. "Yeah," I said. "I have the perfect person."
"Good," said Low, clapping his hands. "You guys get this shit squared away. I've got a baby to see."
"Good luck man!" Keir called.
"Yeah, maybe grab some of that warm goo they use to make Zoe's belly all slide-y for me? I can think of a few ways to use that with Maddie," Rane said, grinning evilly.
"Man, that's fucking disgusting," Low complained.
"And hilarious," Balzac chuckled. "You should see your face right now."
"You're part of the family now," I said to Jane, who was doubled over laughing. "You ready?"
Chapter Thirty-Four
True
An intimate, fan only night with Ruthless. That's how Piper had explained tonight to me. But once again, the picture of rock star living I had in my head was wildly off from reality.
I'd imagined some glittering, champagne-swilling soiree with perfectly coiffed people smiling with rows of perfectly white teeth.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
The driver opened the door and after a moment's hesitation, I climbed out to the blinding flash of cell phone cameras. Then they all died out at once. After my eyesight returned, I was greeted with a mass of confused faces all staring at me.
Then I turned and helped Piper out and the flashes started up all over again.
She winced and then gave an icy smile that only made the flashes intensify. "Let's go," she said grimly, ducking her head.
The club looked like an underground bunker, a hulking mass of concrete. I stopped to stare at entrance, a narrow archway that looked like the entrance to the Underworld. All around me, slouching punk-looking kids gave me the eyeball. They looked from me to Piper and then back to me again, wondering what the hell I was doing here in the VIP section. There was no way I didn't stand out in my thrift store jeans and beat up boots.
And the vibe I got was one of distinct unwelcome. It made me stop in my tracks, that itch to fight someone bristling across my skin.
Piper felt me slow down and slipped her arm into mine. "It's not much to look at from the outside," she sighed, looking up at the entrance. "But wait til you see the inside."
I squeezed her closer and sighed inwardly. If she was trying to make me feel better, it wasn't working very well. All at once I was keenly aware that this was just another night in the life of Piper Stowe: Rockstar. Meeting the band had been one thing, I was used to playing music. Being a VIP at their show was something quite different and I didn't know why it made me so uneasy. But it did.
Inside was a much smaller floor than I'd expected. The narrow stage was lined with heavy velvet drapes and only stood about two feet above the floor. The crowd was already pressed up against it, so close that there was no way they wouldn't be able to reach out and touch the band, grab at them, or worse. The heat of sweaty, anxious bodies filled the humid air and an old claustrophobia clawed at my throat. I tried like hell to quiet my breathing and was immensely grateful when a security guard started to clear a path backstage.
Piper reached her hand behind her, grasping the air before she snatched up my hand. She pulled me close to her so that I was right up against her heels.
Sliding my hand across her stomach, I felt her breath hitch a little. She looked back over her shoulder, her profile lit up by the stage lights and so damn beautiful she took my breath away. The rest of the room seemed to slide away when I focused solely on her. My claustrophobia eased and my breathing slowed.
Off to the side of the stage was a narrow entrance with a folding chair set up. Piper turned around and craned up to yell into my ear over the noise of the club.
"For you!" she shouted into my ear. I was so focused on the way the heat of her breath grazed my earlobe that I almost didn't notice that she was gesturing for me to sit down. "Seat of honor!"
"Awesome." I grinned, kissing her forehead, and sat down. From this vantage point, I had a perfect view of the hustle and bustle backstage. I spied Jane's flame-red head bobbing at my left. She was doing some weird contortions with her face and I realized she was probably warming up. Keir paced in a corner while Rane slouched almost inert on the floor. Low was nowhere to be seen until I saw a steel door slam open and him emerging, zipping up his fly.
And in the midst of all of that hubbub, in the center of all the technicians crawling around, impervious to the noise of the crowd that awaited her, stood my Piper. She bent over her keyboards like a willow tree, her face perfectly beautiful and still. But her fingers were a blur of motion, sliding up and down the keyboard in lightning fast scales. I was mesmerized watching her, the way the whole world seemed to slide away for her, where there was nothing left to worry about but the music.
I was almost jealous.
Almost at once, a hush fell over the crowd, even before the lights dimmed. Even though I could see every single band member, I still felt that same giddy anticipation that infected the room. My favorite band, hell, my favorite person, was about to play.
Keir stalked onstage to wild applause. He didn't say a word, just looked behind him as the rest of the band took their places. Then he looked back out again. "Got a few new things to play for you tonight," he said, to rapturous applause. "And you're in for a fucking treat. Could you all give a big welcome to Jane Doe?"
The room fucking exploded as Jane bounded out. She grinned and waved, and then nodded once to Keir. Immediately, Low kicked into a new song, one I was acutely aware must have been written only days ago. Hell, maybe they even worked on it while I was there at the studio, as Piper and I made love on the studio roof...
I shifted in my chair and suddenly bounded to my feet, propelled to move by the music. Jane's vocals wove in and around Keir's, wavering around and above the deep baritone and adding a new layer to the music I'd always loved. It was fucking spellbinding. I could feel the music everywhere, the thud of the bass in my chest, the guitar a physical presence against my skin. I wavered on my feet, watching Piper, and the feelings that the music pulled up were overwhelming me all at once. Hurt and anger dovetailed into ecstatic happiness and a deep, deep longing for... something. A hunger that I wasn't sure I could ever feed.
> I knew what I was hungry for. Her dark head was bent as if in prayer, her eyes closed the same way they'd closed when I was inside of her.
A million eyes were on Piper, including mine, but she didn't seem aware of a single one of them. I felt something hot and bitter squirt in the back of my throat, filling my mouth with the taste of acrid pennies.
I was fucking jealous.
Jealous of all the people watching her, getting to see the expression I'd thought she only made with me. I felt myself moving, cupping the shape of her body against me, subconsciously trying to hold her once again. I needed her more than I ever needed anything...
And all at once I wanted this to be over. I didn't like that everyone was watching her right now. I wanted her to go back to being just mine.
And I hated myself for it.
As Jane's vocals faded away, I spotted Rane look over at Piper, who grinned and nodded. "Ladies and gentleman!" he barked into the mic with a hoarse shout. "Now put your hands together for our friend Cash Truman!"
A spotlight swung out, catching me in its net. A roadie rushed out, shoving a guitar into my stunned hands, but I still had no idea what the fuck was going on until Jane came dancing over to grab my hand. "Play with us!" she hissed through her wide smile.
I staggered onto the stage like a drunk man. The full force of the lights hit me, mercifully shielding me from the sea of faces staring at me. There seemed to be millions of them all craning their necks to stare. It was too fucking much. I shuffled around in a half circle, and that's when I saw Piper clapping and laughing, her mouth forming the shapes of soundless, shouted words as Low kicked off the beat to Basic Desires.
I hunched over and tried to find the rhythm. Keir nodded at me as he stepped up to the mic, totally at ease with the screaming, reaching fans all up in his face. I shook my head and started to play. Closing my eyes, I could almost conjure up the same magic I'd felt when I'd played this song before, all those moments I'd pretended I was up on stage with my favorite band. This was real, it was really happening but instead of the transcendent joy I'd expected, I was filled with...