Shit.
It’s how some fans look at me when I perform, that same glassy intensity, that same desperate kind of joy.
The first woman goes up to screaming and praise, Gideon placing his hand against her, speaking words that are meant to feel personal even in front of thousands, and I watch carefully, taking in every detail, every movement.
She doesn’t kneel.
She does, however, disappear backstage with him.
The second follows, same deal.
Same pattern.
Are the curtains gonna be pulled back on a dunk tank of holy water?
Shit, is this an orgy?
Then it’s my turn.
As I step onto the stage, everything sharpens, not because of the lights or the crowd, but because I am now standing face to face with the man who has threaded himself into my life in a way that cannot be undone.
Gideon turns to me, his expression smooth, unreadable.
No flicker.
No hesitation.
I hold his gaze.
“What’s your name, son?”
“Theodore.”
His smile deepens.
He steps closer, lifting his hand to my temple in a gesture meant to look like a blessing, and as he speaks about cleansing and restoration, I feel it in the way his attention locks onto mine.
When it’s over, I step back and turn, walking off the stage like nothing has happened, but the moment my foot hits the ground a man in a suit is already there, ready to escort me.
I follow.
The noise fades as we move through the corridor, swallowed by walls and distance, until the door to the side room closes behind me and silence settles in, heavy and waiting.
I barely take two steps before his voice comes from behind me.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize you?”
A slow smile spreads across my face as I remove the glasses and turn to face him fully.
“Actually,” I say, meeting his eyes without anything left to hide, “I was counting on it.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chace
Bleeders – Black Veil Brides
Istand at the barrier in a poorly tailored suit, because if I have to wear one, I prefer a Milano—classic, well-tailored.
