What the fuck?
“Call the cops. This has gone too far.”
Because the goddamn Cherry Smasher is sending my wife gifts.
This shit stops now.
38
JACE
I don’t knowwhat to expect when I crack open the door to our bedroom, but it’s not this.
Rory is sitting in the corner, on the floor, in front of my daughter’s crib, hugging her knees to her chest. There’s a small stack of books next to her.
Even though it’s late, she’s wide awake. But when she sees me, her expression doesn’t change. She has a faraway look in her eyes, almost like she’s looking through me.
After I glance in the crib—my daughter’s sleeping peacefully—I crouch down in front of Rory and cup her face. “Baby, are you okay?”
She looks down and nods.
“Talk to me. I heard about the book. Edmond’s calling the police so we can report it. Maybe the person left fingerprints on the baggie.”
“Okay.” She still won’t look at me.
I sit in front of her. “Darlin’, I’m so sorry about tonight. I swear I had no idea Marlowe was gonna get up in my business. That’s not what we rehearsed at sound check.” I debatementioning what happened in the VIP line afterward, but that feels like adding fuel to the fire, so I keep it to myself.
“Sure,” she says quietly.
That’s it? Sure? “I’m an open book. Ask me anything, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
Her eyes finally meet mine, but they’re remote. “Do you think I have time to take a shower before the police arrive?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t we go check with Edmond?” I get up and offer her my hand, but she doesn’t take it. I’m scrambling to think of something to connect with her. “Whatcha doing with all those books?”
She shrugs. “I figured if someone attacked me, I could throw books at them. I don’t really have anything else I could use as a weapon.”
My heart sinks. I never want her to be afraid. I pull her into my arms and hug her, but she doesn’t reciprocate. “Hey. I’m sorry you’re getting wrapped up with the Cherry Smasher. That asshole is pissing me off.”
When Rory doesn’t say anything, I realize that might not be what’s freaking her out. “Don’t give up on me,” I whisper. “We’ll figure out how to deal with Marlowe’s bullshit. You and I have a good thing. Don’t let her come between us, okay?”
She sighs and puts her hands on my waist. Her voice is a whisper. “It hurt to watch the two of you together like that.”
“I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I need you to believe me. I had no idea shit was gonna go down like that. I kinda went on autopilot. I couldn’t shove her away on stage, so I just went with it. But I know now that was the wrong thing to do.” I can’t bring myself to tell her what happened backstage. She’s already upset.
Rory tilts her head and glances up at me. “Was it, though? I thought that’s the whole point of all of this. For you to make a big splash so you can get your record deal, and that’s what stage time with Marlowe’s getting you.” She pulls out her phone andscrolls to our social media. “Your fans love you two together.” She scrolls through clip after clip of me performing with my ex that fans have posted. Damn, it looks more intimate than I thought. No wonder Rory’s pissed.
I cup her face again. “It’s just an act. There’s absolutely nothing between me and her anymore.”
“Okay.” She wipes her eyes with an embarrassed laugh. “Here’s the truth. I can’t compete. I know that. I’m nothing like her, and I?—”
I kiss her to shut her up. “Thank God you’re nothing like her. Look, I know you’re probably flipped out by the song I wrote about her, but the bottom line is, she and I were toxic together. Good for some song inspo and crazy enough to make me spiral afterward. That’s it.”
She fists my shirt. “If you ever want her?—”
“I don’t.”
“If you ever want her,” she says more forcefully, “or anyone else, just promise me you’ll break things off with me first.”
