Aunt Vi takes a deep breath, and I’m grateful that her fit seems to be over. “I should get going. It’s past my bedtime out here, and I still need to make dinner.”
I shake my head even though she can’t see it. “Why don’t you let me order you something?”
“Nah, that’d be a waste. I’m just gonna heat some soup and try to stomach a cracker or two. But you’re sweet.”
Me, sweet?“You’re fucking nuts, Aunt Vi.”
“’Fraid you might of got a touch of that gene, too.” She sniggers. “I’ll talk to you later, kid.”
“Talk to you soon, Vi. Call me if you needanything—and I mean that shit.”
“I know it.”
The line goes dead.
I lie back in bed, tossing my phone onto the pillow beside my head as a heavy sigh works its way past my lips. I never understand how the day can go from amazing to foul in the blink of an eye, but I do appreciate the dedication the universe has when it comes to fucking me up the ass.
I roll to my side, open my phone, and press play on a random playlist I have saved, hoping the background noise will dull my mind. Make me feel less alone.
I lie in the dark for some time, allowing the pounding bass and the haunting lilt of the guitar to lull me into nothingness. But then Little Wing comes on, and my mind travels to Eloise. Her smile, her scent, that twinkle in her eyes whenever she lets her mask fall away.
I know I shouldn’t, but I wonder what she’s doing.
If she’s thinking about me, like I am her.
7
Eloise
My fingersflit across the keys, filling the room with sound I can’t hear. I’m not sure how long it’s been since I entered the numb, trancelike state, but at some point, my mind turned to thoughts of Riot, and I can’t seem to get him out.
Usually when I play, it’s the only time I don't think about Riot—not about his eyes or his rumbly voice or the way his forearms flex when he expertly strums his guitar. Not of his strong, calloused fingers moving expertly over the frets, toying with the strings like he’s making love to the instrument. The same way they would move over my clit?—
“Jesus! What the fuck are youdoing, Eloise?”
I blink, and the world comes back into focus—as do the horrible, discordant notes ringing from the Steinway. I gaze down, finding my wrists at an awkward angle, my fingers splayed and catching on unintended keys.
The sound is ugly, but it’s raw.Real.Passionate.
Everything I’ve come to pretend I’m not.
“Just trying out something new,” I murmur, pulling my hands from the keys and placing them gently in my lap. “Would you prefer something else?”
“Anythingother than that shit you were doing before.” Dave sneers as he lowers into his leather armchair, the ice clinking lightly against the crystal as he swirls his drink. “Tens of thousands of dollars in lessons, and you still sound like a drunken cow that stumbled across a keyboard.”
He takes a large gulp of his drink, and I try not to flinch. Dave’s comments shouldn’t bother me anymore. Shouldn’t sting after the years of his consistent abuse. But I can’t deny that when I place my hands back on the ivory keys, my shoulders are slightly more slumped, and my heart is twice as heavy.
Dave stomps closer, slapping me on the shoulder hard enough for my body to jerk. “Play my favorite. Unless you’ll fuck it up, in which case, never mind.”
“So which is it?” I ask, keeping my voice even despite the rage pumping through my veins. “Do you want me to play it or not?”
He grunts, taking another large swig of his drink. “Fuck it. Sure. Play the damn thing.”
He slumps into his leather armchair, beady eyes locked on my profile and causing my skin to crawl. A wave of anxiety replaces my anger as I bring my hands to the keys, and I’m keenly aware of the fact that this is a trap. He’s looking for someone to take his anger out on, and I’m the easiest target.
Sure enough, the first note I misplay sends Dave into a blind rage. He throws his crystal tumbler to the floor with an enraged roar, the sound mingling horrifically with the shattering of glass and clanging piano keys.
Dave gets in my face, his expression twisting and pulling in strange ways. His skin purples, and droplets of spit fly from his mouth and assault my face, but I barely notice. Everything has gone silent—everything quiet and serene and still.
