“I can call Cleo and?—”
“No.”His voice shifts, frostbitten and final.“You leave her out of this.You hear me?”
It’s not advice.It’s not even a warning.It’s a boundary snapped into place with no wiggle room.A goddamn wall.
And he means it.
“She’s the only one who believes in me,” I say, low and tired and maybe a little broken.“I don’t want to fuck her up too, but she might be able to at least listen to me.”
“Of course she believes in you.That’s who she is.”His tone softens for half a beat, then tightens again.“But we are leaving her out of this, Wilder.Do you understand me?She’s got enough on her plate.You don’t get to drop this on her.”
I nod like he can see it.“Yeah,” I agree because he’s right.I should actually be the one protecting my sister, looking after her.
“How are the cravings, Wilder?”
“Lurking,” I admit.“Always.”
He lets that hang between us a second.“All right.I need you to hit a meeting today and another tomorrow.”
My silence lingers too long, and he adds, “I’m not asking, Roderick.”
“Fine,” I say, throat thick.“I’ll go.”
“Good.Then Monday morning, there’ll be a car outside your apartment.No excuses.You and I are gonna have a long, brutally honest conversation and figure out what you can actually do to feel like you’re rebuilding instead of just punishing yourself.Because that’s what this sounds like.”
“You seem to be an expert on this,” I mutter.
“It’s all experience,” he says, and for once, there’s no edge in his voice.Just truth.“I quit managing bands because I was partying just as hard as you were.I thought I was unstoppable.I was about to blow up everything I built because I thought I could.I believed I was like you.”
He pauses.
“I came from nothing,” he says.“And I was about to end up with nothing—burnt-out and alone and not even sure how I got there.My mother, God rest her soul, showed up one day and told me to look in the mirror and decide if I liked the man staring back.”
I swallow hard.“I wish someone had done the same for me.”
“It’s different,” he says.“You weren’t raised around normal.You were born in that spotlight, handed an image before you had a fucking voice.Your parents built the cage, but Connor?Connor Dempsey locked the damn door and threw away the key.”
I glance down at the scarring on my knuckles, the tattoos, the faded reminders of nights I can’t remember and consequences I couldn’t outrun.
“I don’t know why I still want to go back to him,” I whisper.
“Because at some point, he made you feel like you mattered.”Eddie’s voice turns brittle.“But that man doesn’t give a single shit about anyone.He wrecked your life to advance your career, uses his clients without caring about their lives.He even exploited Kit ...and fuck knows who else.That’s why nobody hires him anymore.That’s why he’s alone.”
My fingers drag through my hair.I feel raw, peeled open, like this call ripped away a scab I’ve been pretending had already healed.
“Are you still in the industry?”
“Nope.”His answer comes quick.“I just like to keep tabs on the people who mean something to me.”
I pause at that.My heart stumbles over the meaning, wondering who he’s referring to—me or Kit or maybe someone else entirely.But I don’t ask.
“Speaking of which,” he continues, “you’re interrupting my weekend, and I’ve got two gorgeous, naked people waiting for me in the cabin.The good thing is that our girl’s keeping his cock hard for me.”
I groan.“Fuck, Eddie.I didn’t need that mental image.”
“Oh, you of all people don’t need it.”He laughs, low and smug.“Take care of yourself, Wilder.I’ll see you Monday.”
And then the line goes dead.
