For now.
“It is so good to hear your voice, Kiera.”
She snorts. “Are you high on morphine? You’re never nice to me.”
“High on morphine, yes,” I admit. “But this bullshit has shown me what I really care about… you, Gran, and Effa mean everything. I love you. Don’t ever forget that.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line.
“Kaden… you’re scaring me. Are you more hurt than you’re letting on?”
I chuckle softly, careful not to jolt my ribs. “No, I’m fine. I promise. I’ll be good as new in no time. How are you feeling?”
She sniffs lightly. “This phone call is not about me, Kades. We are solely focusing on you and how you’re feeling.”
“I just need a little recovery time, and then I’ll be good as new,” I repeat, hoping I sound convincing enough.
“Will you be home before Christmas?” she asks.
That question hits me strange.
She already knows the tour schedule.
She knows when the band breaks.
“Of course, I’ll come home as soon as the band breaks for Christmas.”
She goes quiet again, and that silence makes my stomach tighten more than any pain in my ribs.
“Kiera, are you okay?”
She exhales and laughs lightly. “Fine, just processing. I hate the idea of you being hurt. I want to make sure you’re home for Christmas so I can see you.”
Something’s off. I can feel it. There is a subtle shift in Kiera’s tone, like she’s weighing something she’s not telling me.
But I don’t push. Not right now.
“I’ll be home. You don’t have to worry about that, booger-butt. I promise.”
“So, you gonna tell me what the hell happened to you?” she presses.
Clearing my throat, I grimace. “I was attacked in an alley after getting a tatt with Effa—”
“Oh my God, is Effa okay?”
“She’s fine. They only went after me. Raoul got Effa the hell out of there while I distracted them. They were junkies looking for some cash.” The lie sits heavy on my tongue.
I hate lying to her.
But the fewer people who know about Vex, the better. I don’t want Kiera tangled up in that world. She doesn’t need to carry that weight. Let her believe what the cops believe. Let Gran believe it too.
Keep the truth contained.
“Did they get away with much?” she asks.
“Enough,” I say carefully. “But we don’t have to worry about them, Kiera. They were just thugs. They won’t bother us again. The police have made sure of it.”
She releases a slow breath. “And are you okay? Physically, I mean? Are you in a lot of pain?”
