Page 146 of The Bitter Words

I flip back the covers and get out of bed to use therestroom. “There’s nothing you can do. It’s just something I need to get a handle on.”

“You’re such a stubborn prick.”

“I’ve never claimed not to be one.” I slam the door and relieve myself.

Bren’s right. If I don’t figure something out, I’m gonna go crazy. Or worse, I’ll end up dead.

There has to be a way. The good news is while we’re out on tour, my interactions with Leon will greatly diminish.

I’ve let the abuse go on for three years. We only have two years left and our contract will be up.

I’m not sure how I’ll survive until then. There’s relief in sight, though, because I’ll be on the road for at least a year of those future days.

I return to the bedroom where Bren is. “Why are you still here?”

“You wrote another hit last night.” He lifts my cell.

“You figured out my code again?”

“It’s never hard. It’s always a combination of Livianna and your birthdays.”

“You’re lucky I don’t care about you searching my stuff.”

“One day I’ll figure out what’s haunting you.”

“Not if you think you’re gonna find it in a message or an email. I’ve told you a thousand times. There’s nothing on my phone.”

He scans something on the screen. “The latest texts you sent her have great lyrics.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. We need to rearrange them and add a couple more lines that rhyme, but it’s the stuff that makes up all our number one hits.”

I sit on the bed and try to remember what I sent her. My chest aches and I cave in on myself.

“I’m sorry, Guns.”

“For?”

“The album title, the ‘Tainted Love’ cover, and the position I’ve put you in.”

“She’s not talking to me.” He tosses me my cell. “The only reason why I don’t wanna beat the crap out of you is because I know you’re dealing with some fucked-up shit.”

I catch my phone and place it down. “How do you know she’s upset with you?”

“I sent a text saying Happy New Year. She responded by calling me Guns and told me to go get fucked. The last time she called me Guns was when we planted that story with the woman and the coke.”

“At least you heard from her.” My stomach spins with an emptiness that spirals out.

“If you want her back, fix your head.”

“I’m trying.”

“No, you’re not. You’re constantly drinking, using anything you can get your hands on, and fucking any chick that looks your way.”

“You’re one to talk.”

He gets up and meanders out of the room. “Cash, you think that, but I don’t do any of that shit like you do. You just wanna believe you’re not doing it alone.”