САНКТ-ПЕТЕРБУРГСКИЙ ГОСУДАРСТВЕННЫЙ УНИВЕРСИТЕТ 12 страница

C onnor stared down at the panic in her eyes. Her entire body was tense and there was a wildness that reminded him of a spooked animal about to take flight. He knew he was taking a huge risk by forcing the issue. He could lose her. She could shut down and freeze him out, but he had to try. Damn it, he had to try. He couldn’t just give up and let her walk away. Not when this was the most important moment of his entire life. “Stay with me, Lyric,” he said in a low voice. “Stay with me and explain why me telling you I love you has you in such a panic.” “It doesn’t mean anything,” she whispered. “It’s not real.” “Doesn’t mean anything? Do you think I said that to get into your pants? Do you think I go around telling every woman I’ve slept with that I love her? I’ve got news for you, baby. I’ve already been in as deep inside you as a man can get. I didn’t need the words to make love to you. I didn’t have to say them now. But goddamn it, I love you. That’s real. It doesn’t get any more real.” An endless stream of tears leaked from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. His chest ached so bad he wanted to cry with her. Whatever had hurt her, whatever had destroyed her faith in love, was killing him as well. “Talk to me,” he pleaded. “I’m begging you not to walk away from this. I think you feel something for me too. Am I wrong? Did I get you all wrong?” Slowly she shook her head as more silver trails slid from her eyes. A tiny twinge of relief loosened the knot in his throat. It was an admission. A reluctant admission, but at least she hadn’t denied feeling something for him. He could work with that. He shifted his weight to the side so he could discard the condom, and he hoped she wouldn’t use the opportunity to bolt. But she lay there on her back, staring up at the ceiling as tears etched a crooked path on her face. She looked tired. Fragile. And scared. He reached a tentative hand to brush away the moisture on her cheek. “Will you talk to me? Do you trust me enough to tell me what’s hurt you so badly?” For a long moment she lay there, unmoving, quiet, as if gathering herself. To run? Or to confide in him? He couldn’t say with any authority which of the two she was leaning toward. Maybe she didn’t know herself. When she finally did stir, he tensed, and then she rolled slightly until she faced him with haunted eyes. He wanted to do a fist pump. She’d made her decision and she was still with him. Still next to him. But he remained still, waiting for the revelation that was buried deep. “My real name is Carly Winters. And you were right. I was born and raised in the South. Covington County, Mississippi.” She waited a moment as if grappling with whether to go on. He willed himself not to stir, not to react. He didn’t want to do anything to change her mind. “My father—my real father—left my mother when I was a baby. For a long time it was just me and her. We were dirt-poor but I was happy. She loved me and did her best. I adored her. She encouraged me to sing. In the evenings, I’d sing to her while she did dishes. She said she never got tired of hearing her baby’s voice. She always swore I’d be a star.” She drew in a deep breath. “When I was nine, she met Danny Higgins. At first it was nice. She was so happy. So alive. I hadn’t realized how hard it had been on her until then. Suddenly she had help. She wasn’t alone. We moved in with him after they got married. He insisted my mother didn’t work. She’d worked two jobs until then. She worked in a local factory during the week and she waitressed in a café on the weekends. “I can remember thinking that it was the start of a great new life for us. Suddenly we didn’t have to worry about where our next meal would come from. She no longer had to bring home leftovers from the café, and for the first time ever, she bought me new clothes from the rack in a store instead of getting them from Goodwill or neighbors who gave us their kids’ castoffs. “But it didn’t last,” she said faintly. “Danny had a quick temper. It got even nastier when he’d drink. It was the whole cliché, stereotypical abusive husband. He’d drink. Hit my mom. Get sober. Apologize. I still think to this day she only stayed because I had a better life. Or at least she thought I did.” Dread curled in Connor’s stomach. He had a very good idea of where this was headed and it made him ill. “Danny lost his well-paying job and he yelled at my mom that it was time for her to start carrying her weight. She went back to work at the factory. Waitressed on weekends. It seemed all she did was work. She’d come home tired and have to contend with Danny’s nasty moods. I did everything I could to make things easier for her. I cooked. I cleaned.” “Jesus,” Connor muttered. “You were only a baby yourself.” Lyric went on as if he hadn’t spoken. Her eyes were glassy and had a distant look, as if she were unaware that he was even here anymore. She was lost in her past. Reliving each and every moment. “Danny started paying a lot more attention to me. Got all lovey and affectionate. Wanted me to sit on his lap. Freaked me out but I was afraid of him. I’m sure you know where this is going. The whole thing could come straight out of some made-for-TV movie. Evil stepfather. Messing around with the stepdaughter.” Connor had to bite his lip to call back the savage curse that threatened to boil out. She was so casual. So flip. As if because it happened to so many, it didn’t matter that it had happened to her. “He’d come into my bedroom at night while my mom was working, and he’d rape me. And the entire time he’d whisper how much he loved me and how beautiful I was and what a good girl I was.” Connor closed his eyes against the sting of tears. God. No wonder she hated to hear those words. Especially during sex. “If you’re wondering why I didn’t tell my mom, I did. It took me a while to work up the courage. I waited until he had gone out and then I told her and I begged her for us to leave before he got back. She was devastated. I’d never seen her cry. Not through us being poor and hungry. Not when he hit her. She never cried until I told her what he’d done.” Unable to keep from touching her and offering comfort, Connor stroked his hand over her cheek, smoothing away the tears that still crept over her cheekbone. He let his fingers trail into her hair and then he rubbed up and down her arm. To his surprise, she scooted closer, as if seeking the comfort of his body. She curled into his arm and laid her head against his shoulder. Maybe she could no longer face him and it was easier to let loose the poison of her past when they weren’t staring eye to eye. He wrapped his arms around her and entwined their legs, wanting no separation between them. Never once would he want her to feel like she was somehow less for what was done to her. He’d hold her forever if that was what it took. “I thought we’d just go. But I underestimated my mom’s anger. She confronted Danny when he got home. For the first time, she stood up to him. She told him she was going to have him arrested and that she hoped he rotted in hell.” “Good for her,” he said softly. Lyric shook her head. “No. It was the wrong thing to do. We should have just gone. Left and never looked back. She wanted justice. I just wanted us safe. He flew into a rage. I think he forgot I was even there. I hid in the cabinet under the sink while he beat her to death.” She made a sound like a wounded animal. The moan tore from her throat and her fingers dug into his skin. “There was blood. So much blood. I remember peering through the crack in the cabinet door, so terrified I could do nothing. I did nothing. I hid like a coward while my mother died. I let him kill her because I was afraid he’d turn on me. Or worse, he’d keep me and abuse me. So I sat there and listened to her screams.” Connor pressed his mouth to her hair as nausea rolled through his stomach. He trembled against her even as he held her so close it was a wonder she could breathe. “Worse than the screams and the sounds of him hitting my mother was the silence afterward. So silent you could have heard a whisper. I stayed under the sink for three days. When they finally found me, my mom had been dead for over seventy-two hours, and I hid there and never did anything to help her.” “Sweet mother of God,” Connor swore. “Lyric, you were just a child. A terrified little girl who’d already been horribly abused by the son of a bitch. Do you think your mother would have wanted you to die with her? Do you think she wouldn’t have wanted you to hide?” “I just know that I did nothing and I traded my life for hers. I could have run. I could have gone to a neighbor’s. I could have done something,” she finished with a sob. “Those three days were the worst of my life. I was alone in that house while she lay dead just feet away. Even after I knew he was gone, I couldn’t make myself leave my hiding place. I’ve never liked being alone since. It terrifies me.” Connor gathered her close and turned her face up so he could kiss her forehead. He smoothed his hand over her hair and simply stroked as he willed some of the burning rage he felt on her behalf to calm. “My testimony put him in prison for life. Because I was a minor and was so traumatized by the event, they sealed the records and I was born again, so to speak. New name. New life. No one knew of my past. Not even my string of foster parents. They only knew I had been sexually abused and my mother had died. I chose Lyric to honor my mother’s vision of my future. I was determined to become a singer for her.” “And you did,” he said softly. “You became the best.” She let out a pitiful laugh that sounded more like a sob. “No, not the best. I’ve lived my life afraid that someone would find out about my past.” “Baby, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You were a victim.” She shook her head adamantly. “I don’t want anyone to know. I’ve never told anyone. Except you... I couldn’t bear it to be splashed across all the papers and magazines.” “Is that why you give them so much else to talk about?” For a long moment she remained silent. “Maybe. I don’t know. That sounds like an excuse. I don’t always like the things I do, and yet I still make stupid choices. It’s sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy, I guess. I’ve tried so hard to project this give-a-shit attitude. Maybe I’m preparing for the day when someone does find out about my past. I don’t want anyone to ever see me that vulnerable.” Did she have any idea how very vulnerable she sounded right now? Something inside him came loose and the ache in his chest intensified. He hurt for the child who’d suffered so much. He hurt for the young woman who still hurt, for whom those horrible days were relived on a daily basis. “I didn’t want anyone to judge me. If I thought so badly of myself, how much worse would others feel about what I’d done?” “Honey, you didn’t do anything,” he said gently. “You survived a horrible experience. How is that bad?” When she didn’t answer, he once again tilted up her chin so she could see his eyes. “Lyric, I’m not judging you. I don’t think badly of you. I hurt for you. I’m angry as hell at the son of a bitch who terrorized you and took your mother from you. But I love you. Your past doesn’t change that. Love doesn’t come with conditions. It just... is.” “No one but my mother has ever loved me,” she said quietly. “I don’t know how to react, Connor. I’m worried I’ll piss you off. Or maybe you’ll get tired of my stupidity. I’m worried I can’t give you what you need. What you deserve.” He smiled and rubbed his cheek over her forehead. “Why don’t you let me worry about what I can handle?” “How can you love me? You didn’t even like me at first.” “If you’re asking me to explain how or why people fall in love, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I watched all my friends fall hard for the women in their lives. I secretly thought they were all morons. They completely lost their shit. I never understood it. Until now. Now I can see exactly what they were thinking and feeling. Because I’ve completely lost my shit over you.” She laughed softly and buried her face in his neck. He could still feel the dampness on her cheeks and he cupped the back of her head, stroking and soothing away her grief. “I want to be right for you, Connor. I want it so bad I ache.” He kissed her again, compelled to keep touching her, to keep the link between them. “You are right for me, Lyric. Just as you are.” She shifted a bit and snuggled deeper into his body as if seeking refuge. He wanted to be that refuge. Her safe place where she was protected from the world. “You know what I’d like?” he asked softly. “What?” she whispered back. “I’d like for you to sleep with me. Just like this. You in my arms where I can hold you all night. And I’d like to wake up in the morning and have you be the first thing I see.” She nodded sleepily. “I think I’d like that too.” He smiled and reached behind him to turn off the lamp. Then he turned back to her and settled her against him once more. When he was satisfied that she was snuggled as tight as possible into his arms, he laid his cheek on the top of her head and processed everything she’d told him. Lyric slipped into an exhausted sleep within moments of him turning off the light. But Connor stayed awake long into the night. CHAPTER 29

C onnor awoke to the sound of his cell vibrating on the nightstand. He blew a strand of Lyric’s hair from his mouth and smiled at the fact she was draped across him like a blanket. Her body was soft and warm and her cheek was pressed to his chest. Her upper body was covering him entirely and one leg was slung over his. He could wake this way every morning and die a happy man in sixty years or so. The phone quieted and then immediately started again. Connor cursed under his breath and eased his arm over so he could reach the phone. “What?” he demanded in a quiet voice. “Connor Malone? This is Lieutenant Donnelly. We spoke yesterday regarding R. J. Miller and Trent Carnes.” Connor grimaced. It was awfully damn early in the morning to be calling with case updates. “Give me a second,” he murmured. He disentangled himself from Lyric, who woke and stared up at him with sleep-clouded eyes. He leaned down to kiss her. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep. I’ll be right back, okay?” “Okay,” she mumbled. He moved from the bed and walked across the room toward the bathroom so he wouldn’t disturb her. “What do you have for me?” he asked the lieutenant. “Your guys confessed. It was pretty pathetic really.” “What the fuck were they trying to do?” Connor demanded. “They saw the writing on the wall. They weren’t happy that Ms. Jones had started pulling away from them. Their words, not mine. They hatched this ridiculous plan to make it appear that there was a threat against her. Their hope was that they’d provide support and protection, thus making themselves invaluable to Ms. Jones.” “What a bunch of dipshits,” Connor muttered. “What will happen to them?” “We can’t hold them on much. The best option will be for Ms. Jones to take out a restraining order on them. We can arrest them for harassment, but they’ll likely be out on bail in less than a day, and no way is the DA going to pursue this beyond probation and maybe a little community service. They’ll plead out and be on their way before the ink is dry on the paperwork.” “Figures. Thanks, Lieutenant. I appreciate your taking care of the matter.” “Not a problem. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.” Connor hung up and then noticed he had a missed call from his dad. He winced. It had been several days since he’d talked to Pop, a fact that wouldn’t make the old man very happy. “I hear there’s some serious bodyguarding going on over there and that you’ve taken a personal interest in a certain pop star’s body,” Pop rumbled as soon as he picked up the phone. Connor shook his head. Trust gossip to have already reached his ears. “She’s the one, Pop.” He could practically hear his dad grinning through the phone. “Well, I’ll be damned. That’s great, son. You two got things worked out?” Connor frowned and looked back toward the bed where Lyric was curled into a ball, her arm thrown over his pillow. “Not yet, but we’ll get there.” “Good things shouldn’t be easy. You’ll work hard at it, and it’ll be all the sweeter for it.” Connor shook his head. Pop was so full of shit. Good as gold, but he had something to say for every occasion. “Bring her home for Sunday dinner. She should see what she’s getting into.” Connor laughed. “We’ll get to that eventually. Right now we have more important fish to fry.” Pop made a disgruntled sound. “What’s more important than my Sunday lasagna?” “Faith and Gray have spoiled you by catering to your neuroses.” “At least they eat with me every weekend. Well, when they can.” “And I don’t?” “Well, sure you do. But you’re single, and no single guy turns down free food. The test is when you have a beautiful woman at home as to whether you’ll give your old man the time of day anymore.” Connor rolled his eyes. “Like I’ll ever get rid of you, old fart.” Pop’s raspy chuckle filled Connor’s ear. “Damn straight. I plan for you and Faith to visit me in the old folks’ home when I’m old and toothless.” “You already are old and toothless.” “Don’t make come over there and kick your ass.” Connor laughed. “Okay, Pop. Let me go. Take care of yourself.” “Will do. Give my love to Lyric and tell her welcome to the family.” With a smile, Connor disconnected the call. He’d love nothing more than to welcome Lyric to his family, but he wasn’t going to get ahead of himself. Right now he was just happy Lyric hadn’t run the other direction when he’d expressed a desire for them to be together. With a look at the bed where Lyric was sleeping, he pulled on a robe and crept out of the bedroom and down to fill Kane in on the latest developments. Kane promised to do some investigating on his own. Connor intended to devote his time and energy solely to Lyric. When he returned a few minutes later, he shed the robe and crawled back into bed with Lyric. She stirred and snuggled up close to him, breathing a soft sigh of contentment. “Sleep well?” he murmured. “The best night’s sleep I’ve had in longer than I can remember,” she admitted. “Good. You needed to catch up.” “Who was on the phone? Is everything okay?” “It was the lieutenant who handled R.J. and Trent’s arrests. They confessed to leaving the notes.” Her lips twisted into a perplexed frown. “But why? I don’t understand.” Connor related what the lieutenant had told him and she shook her head. “That’s pretty pathetic, but what’s even more pathetic is that I was involved with those clowns. That I trusted them.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Quit beating yourself up. It’s all in the past. You won’t let it happen again.” “Damn right,” she said with a grin. Then she reached up to touch his face. “What should we do today? We have hours yet until I have to be at the music store.” “Anything you like or nothing at all. It’s solely up to you,” he said in a solemn voice. “You tell me what your pleasure is, and I’ll make sure you get it.” She kissed his chest and pleasure melted through his body at the affectionate gesture. “If I weren’t here and your job wasn’t to keep me safe, what would you be doing today?” “Hmmm. I’d probably eat at Cattleman’s. Hang out with Micah, Nathan, and Gray. Nothing earth-shattering. Throw back a few beers.” “I want to do something ordinary.” He lifted a brow. “Define ordinary. ” “Something everyday. Average. What someone who leads a perfectly normal life would do.” “You up for a jog?” She pushed herself up and looked at him in horror. “You mean like exercising. Running?” He chuckled. “Yeah. I like to keep in shape. I usually run in the mornings but I’ve missed a few days lately. We could go for a run. Take a shower together. Go eat breakfast at a little café I know of. Dad wants us to come for dinner tonight. He cooks lasagna every Sunday. It’s a family tradition. Maybe we can swing by after your signing.” Shadows lurked in her eyes. Her gaze filled with uncertainty and she bit at her bottom lip. “Do they know? I mean, I guess they know, but do they know—know about us?” He smiled at the way she sputtered around the subject. “Yeah. They know. Or at least Pop does. And now that he knows for sure, he’ll waste no time telling Faith, who’ll waste no time telling the other girls, who will waste no time telling their husbands. I should start receiving phone calls giving me shit within the hour.” Her eyes lightened and she smiled back at him. “Sounds like a veritable gossip train.” He shrugged. “We’re close. I guess that’s what friends do. Hard to keep anything from anyone in that group.” “Yeah,” she said wistfully. “You’re lucky.” “Hey, they love you.” “I like them a lot too. I’m so glad I met them. And you.” “Yeah, me too,” he said huskily as he leaned in to kiss her. “Now, how ’bout that run?”
“Oh my God, I’m dying,” Lyric wheezed when they walked—or, rather, she dragged—back up the drive to the house. “You did great,” he said cheerfully. “Let’s hit the shower. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” “Of course you are,” she muttered. “You’ll eat like a pig and not gain an ounce. I’ll look at a cupcake and swell up like a blowfish.” He jogged in place and then swatted her on the ass. She shot him a glare but followed him into the house and up the stairs. They played in the shower and Lyric couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much. She soaped him. He soaped her. They got fresh and frisky and groped each other shamelessly, and by the time they stumbled out to get towels, they were both breathing heavily. He advanced on her menacingly, his cock rigid and standing straight up. She held up her hands to halt his advance. “Hey, none of that. You’re starving, remember?” “Uh-huh. I’m starving. But not for food.” She rolled her eyes. “When are you ever not hungry for food?” “Now,” he growled. She clutched the ends of the towel around her but he pried her fingers away, letting the towel fall to the floor, leaving her naked and still damp in front of him. Her nipples beaded and her belly clenched in anticipation as he reached for her. “There better be a goddamn condom in here.” She sucked in her breath, knowing that if they were going to actually be in a serious relationship, they’d need to discuss things like sexual history, condoms, all the icky stuff that she was used to shoving under the table. “You don’t have to use one,” she said in a quiet voice. “I mean, if you didn’t want to.” He regarded her curiously for a moment and then picked her up so she sat on the edge of the counter, her legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed the corner of her mouth and then nibbled a path to her neck that had her arching and sighing in contentment. “How about I go find that condom, and we’ll have this discussion after I’ve fucked you six ways to Sunday.” Arousal rose sharp, like a bite. She shivered under the intensity of his gaze. In response, she looped her arms around his neck and he hoisted her up until she straddled his midsection. Then he turned and carried her into the bedroom. When he got to the bed, he tumbled forward on the mattress, taking her down underneath him. With one hand, he groped toward the nightstand and snagged one of the packets. “I’d apologize about how quick this is going to be, but I wouldn’t be sincere,” he said as he rolled the condom on. “I’ve got to have you or I’m going to explode.” She smoothed her hands over his muscled shoulders and then down his sides to grasp his hips. “Sometimes foreplay is overrated.” With a groan, he spread her thighs and then slid his thumb over her clit and below to her opening. Then he eased his fingers inside her and she smiled. Despite his urgency, he was still making sure she was ready for him. She arched into his touch and sighed as fluttery sensations danced through her groin as he stroked through her dampness. He pushed so her legs were splayed open and then he guided his cock to her entrance. But still he didn’t thrust. He rubbed the head up and down, bathing it in her wetness, and then finally he plunged deep. In one long stroke he was all the way in, and the shock of his entry made her gasp. So hard and full. She was stretched tight around him, and already the buzz of an orgasm had begun. What followed could hardly be called making love. There was no sense of sweet and gentle wooing. It was an animalistic fucking that had her begging and pleading. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Hard and furious, he stroked rapidly, his hips pumping against hers and the slap of his flesh against hers rising sharp in the air. His entire body moved over hers, and his muscles strained tight underneath her fingertips. Suddenly he rolled, holding her tight against him, so that she was sprawled on top, her legs straddling him. For a moment she lay there, her breaths coming harsh as she sought the strength to do what he wanted. But all he did was reach down and hold her hips while he did the work, arching into her, thrusting upward, his hands holding her pinned tight against him. Finally she managed to push herself up, her palms braced against his chest. The movement sent him deeper, and they both groaned as she repositioned herself, his cock tucked so deep and snug within her that she could barely breathe. His hands left her hips and slid up her body to cup both breasts. He gently squeezed and ran his thumbs over the puckered crests. Each brush sent an electric bolt straight to her pussy that had her squirming. “Ride me, Lyric,” he said. “Ride me as hard as I rode you. Let me watch you come all undone. I want to watch your face when you come.” She closed her eyes and threw back her head and began sliding up and down his cock. Her knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his hips as she undulated her body in a comfortable rhythm. She felt like a wild thing. Free and beautiful. She glanced down at Connor through half-lidded eyes and saw that his gaze was fastened on her, his eyes burning with approval. Desire. Love. It was completely her undoing. Her orgasm flashed like a streak of lightning in the summer air. Beautiful and electric. Her entire body trembled with the shock. His hands closed around her waist, holding her, supporting her. He closed his eyes and his face creased as though he were experiencing agony. His entire body went rigid and she continued to move through her own orgasm, determined to bring him the ultimate pleasure. She was still moving when he leaned up and gathered her in his arms. “Come here, baby,” he said softly as he pulled her back down to sprawl over him. They lay there breathing hard, their chests colliding as they sought to pump more air into oxygen-starved lungs. He kissed the top of her head and smoothed a hand over her hair as she wilted like a wet noodle atop him. Her breasts were smushed flat by his chest and her flesh was stuck to him like a second skin, but she lacked the strength or the desire to move. She fit him. He fit her. He was sturdy and rock hard. Her refuge. Her oasis from everything in the real world. She loved him too. She closed her eyes, wondering why she couldn’t simply give him the words he’d given to her. Why were they so hard to say? He continued to play with her hair, separating the strands and pulling his fingers through them as they lay there in the quiet. He seemed as content as she was for her to blanket him. “Now, was there something you wanted to talk about regarding condoms, past lovers or anything similar?” he asked. She raised her head. “You really think now is a good time to discuss it?” He smiled. “It’s the best time. I didn’t want to get into who you’ve slept with before we had sex. Definite mood killer. But now I couldn’t get it up again to save my life, so I’d say the timing’s perfect.” She laughed and slid to his side. He wrapped an arm around her and hugged her close until her head rested atop his shoulder. “I was just going to say that we could not use condoms if you preferred not to. I know some guys don’t like them.” He danced his fingertips over her arms as he considered what she’d said. “I suppose there are guys who don’t use them. I’ve never been one of them. Sex is great but it doesn’t seem worth the risk, especially in the beginning of a relationship, where you may not know a lot about your partner’s past.” She swallowed as she measured how to bring up her past. “I’m no saint. I’m sure you’ve gathered that much. I was determined that Danny wouldn’t control my sexuality for the rest of my life, but maybe I’ve been fooling myself. It seems everything I do is a direct result of his impact, so in fact, maybe he still has far more control than I’d ever admit to.” “Makes sense.” “I haven’t slept with anyone in a while,” she admitted. “I did sleep with R.J. and Trent. At the same time. I’ve slept with others. Being alone—truly intimate—with a man always freaked me out. But I could do meaningless sex.” “You don’t have to justify yourself or explain yourself to me, Lyric,” Connor said gently. “I’ve slept with my share of women. Not at the same time, mind you. I leave that sort of thing to my friends. What’s past is past. It’s the future I’m more concerned about.” “I know. But I wanted you to know that I’m on birth control and that I’m safe. I mean, I always insisted on condoms. That doesn’t make me miraculously safe, but I’ve always been careful and I have regular checkups and tests. I even made R.J. and Trent both have thorough checkups before I’d allow them in my bed.” He squeezed her to him. “I’m glad. I’ll be even happier if I’m the only man in your bed from now on.” She stopped breathing for a moment as his words settled over her. He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. Or did he? It sounded so... permanent. Permanent was for women like Faith. Wholesome. Girl next door. Women like her screamed commitment and happily ever after. She was the kind of woman a man brought home to his family. Oh God, Connor was bringing her home to his family today. “Tell you what,” Connor said casually. “Why don’t we go have checkups together? We’ll get everything out in the open so there aren’t any surprises. We’ll find out together that we’re perfectly healthy and able to start something new and lasting. Then we’ll burn the box of condoms and have hot, sweaty sex and I’ll get you all sticky and then you’ll complain about the fact we aren’t using condoms anymore.” Her body shook with laughter and she swatted playfully at his chest. “You’re a nut. But yeah. That sounds great. Let’s make an appointment.” He raised his head and she turned to meet his kiss. “It’ll be one of the many things I plan for us to be doing together from now on,” he murmured. CHAPTER 30

“ H oly hell in a bucket,” Connor muttered when they turned down the street where the music store was located. “Is this normal?” Lyric surveyed the cordoned-off street, the throng of people outside the store, at least three police cars and a slew of people carrying cameras. With a puzzled look she shook her head. “No. I mean, I draw a crowd, but it’s never like this. Are you sure nothing else is going on?” “You’re it, babe. I’m damn glad Kane went ahead of us to set up his team. This is going to be a fucking nightmare.” She clasped her hands nervously in her lap as they glided to a stop. They were immediately besieged by people shoving their way to the car, cameras flashing, microphones shoved forward. She blinked in bewilderment and Connor swore. “Drive,” he barked at the driver. “Make the block, circle. Do something. We’ll have to come in a different way. No way I’m letting her out in this.” Connor snatched up his cell phone as the driver pulled away. “Kane, what the hell is going on out there? Where are you? I can’t let Lyric out in that.” Lyric only half paid attention as she stared back at the mass of people. “Okay, we’ll wait fifteen minutes, then circle around to the back. Be waiting and make damn sure the scene is secure. I don’t like this, Kane. I don’t like it at all.” Connor hung up and reached for Lyric’s hand. “Don’t worry, baby, okay? I’ll cancel the damn thing before I let you go into an unsafe situation.” She smiled. “I’ll be fine, Connor. It’s a part of the job.” He scowled but didn’t comment further. Several long minutes later, they traveled down the alley. Two police cars had blocked off the street and had secured an entryway for Lyric into the store. “When we stop I want you out and into the store, no delays. Don’t stop for anything, okay?” Connor said. “I’ll be with you the whole way.” She nodded as the car pulled to a stop. As he’d directed, she bolted from the car, he right behind her. Kane was at the door holding it open for her as he spoke into a receiver close to his mouth. Once inside the store, she breathed a sigh of relief until she remembered the horde of people out front waiting to come in. She hoped to hell the store was prepared for the onslaught. A tall, blond woman strode briskly toward Lyric, her hand outstretched. Lyric recognized her. Sort of. She just couldn’t remember where she’d seen her before. “Ms. Jones. Leslie Burke from Cosmic Records. I’ll be here to make sure things go smoothly for you today. I’ve already spoken with the store management and everything looks great. You’ve got quite a crowd out front but we have plenty of security.” “We’re working in cooperation with the police officers here,” Kane interjected. “We’re only allowing so many in the store at one time and the press won’t be allowed in at any time. It’s solely your choice whether you want to go out and address them or answer questions, but only fans will be allowed inside for the meet and greet.” Lyric pondered for a moment and then glanced at Leslie whose expression said she was willing to let Lyric make the call. “That sounds reasonable. Maybe it will keep the reporters from doing anything stupid if you tell them I’ll make a brief appearance after I’ve met with fans.” Kane nodded. “I’ll let them know.” Connor brushed a kiss across her temple. “I’ll be standing right beside you. If at any time you need me or you want to stop, just let me know.” She smiled. He really was too sweet. She was touched by his caring and concern. It sent a pang of longing through her. How wonderful it would be to have him with her all the time. Kane held up a hand from the door to signal five minutes. Since many of the fans would want photos, a tall signing table had been arranged that allowed Lyric to stand so she wouldn’t have to continually sit and get up. Leslie did a quick check of the promotional material, spoke quickly to two of the store employees and then moved to stand a few feet away from Lyric while they waited for the signing to start. A few minutes later, the doors opened and people began to surge inside. Here at least, Lyric was in her element. She fielded questions. Took photos. Signed shirts, CDs, iPods, pants and even a few body parts. Although you could have broken a stone on Connor’s face when one particularly beefed-up guy stripped off his shirt and asked Lyric to sign low—very low—on his abdomen. She complied laughingly and grinned when Connor glared holes in his back. After an hour, Connor forced water into her hand and waited as she drained it. For a second she leaned against his side, grateful to have a moment’s rest. “Okay?” he murmured. “Yeah, thanks.” She greeted the next fan in line and began all over again. After three hours, she was dead exhausted as the last of the line filtered through. Kane walked over and stood until the last person finished with Lyric, and then he leaned over. “We’re shutting down the line. The signing is officially done. Police are herding people away. The reporters are still out front. Want to just slip out the back?” She shook her head. “No, they kept their part of the bargain. I need to keep mine or next time they might not be willing to wait. I can’t imagine what I’ve done lately to merit such attention from the press, but I’m sure it’s juicy whatever it is. Maybe they’re still buzzing over my supposed arrest.” Connor scowled. “They can kiss my ass.” She grinned and slipped her hand through his. “Okay, give me fifteen and I’ll be done.” Leslie caught Lyric’s eye and then nodded toward the entrance. She walked ahead of Lyric so that she could make a brief statement before Lyric spoke. Kane and Connor flanked her protectively as she stepped to the door. Kane paused when he saw the police barricade and the fact that there were several police officers doing a good job of keeping the crowd under control. “I’ll go back and get the car,” Kane said as he turned to Lyric. “We’ll be in back. I want to make sure you have a clear avenue to the vehicle from the back entrance.” She touched his arm. “Thanks, Kane. I appreciate it.” He smiled. “I know you do. Good luck. Fifteen minutes. Don’t go over.” She turned back, took a deep breath and braced for the onslaught. As soon as she stepped from the building, the frenzy began. Even Leslie looked bewildered. She tried valiantly to direct the media attention back to herself, but once they saw Lyric, they were having none of that. She was pushed aside as the reporters surged past the barricades and surrounded Lyric. At first she had no idea what was being shouted at her. She flinched at the immediate barrage of shouted questions, and as she tentatively moved forward, her hand up to try to calm the volley, some of the questions sank in. “Lyric, is it true your real name is Carly Winters?” “Ms. Jones! Tell us about your mother!” “Lyric, over here! Can you tell us about your stepfather, Danny Higgins?” She swayed and her knees buckled. Shock rolled through her body, leaving her so shaken she thought she’d faint. Connor swore violently and grabbed at her arm. “Lyric, can you confirm your stepfather is in prison for your mother’s murder?” “Can you give us a statement? Is it true you had a sexual relationship with your stepfather and that your mother tried to kill you?” Lyric gasped and felt the world tilt around her. She stared at Connor in utter disbelief. She stared at the man she’d trusted with everything she was, her past, her present, things she’d never shared with another person. Hurt tore through her with crippling intensity. As the reporters hurled all the details of her past, like little poison darts, she stood, her gaze locked onto Connor as her world crumbled around her. “That’s enough, goddamn it!” Connor bit out. He grasped her arm to pull her back into the building. She yanked her arm from Connor’s grasp and turned on him as the world went to hell around them. They were jostled and pushed. She nearly went down under the onslaught. One of the police officers shoved her toward the building. Pain splintered through her head. She realized one of the cameras hit her in the cheek. An elbow caught her temple and then something hard hit her nose. She tasted the bitter metallic of blood, but she was numb. From head to toe. She stumbled forward as two officers and Connor lifted and carried her into the music store. As soon as she broke the entrance, she yanked away from all of them. Connor stood, his eyes glittering, and she flew at him, her fists clenched. She hit him but he didn’t so much as flinch. “How could you?” she cried hoarsely. She tried to scream it but she honestly couldn’t speak past the knot in her throat. “My God, did you roll immediately out of bed with me after I bared my soul? Was that the phone call this morning? Did you waste any time at all before selling me out?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Each word was agony. Oh God, her chest was going to explode. Nothing, nothing in her life had ever hurt as much as his betrayal. Not Danny Higgins. Not the death of her mother. Never before had she trusted a living soul with any part of herself. Not until now. Not until Connor. “How could you?” “Goddamn it, Lyric!” he exploded. “You can’t think I did this. What the fuck?” He advanced toward her and she stumbled back so fast to get away from him that she tripped over a chair and went down hard. “Get him away from me!” she spit out. “Oh God, get him away.” The last ended in a moan and she huddled into a ball, so devastated, so numb from shock, that she wanted to die. The entire world knew. They knew everything. No more secrets. No more lies. Her shame, her pain, was laid bare for the world to see. There was a scuffle. Connor’s curses split the air. She scrambled to her feet and then lunged for the back entrance. Connor shouted at her but she ran as hard and as fast as she could. Away from him. Away from her past. Away from the awful reality that awaited her. She ran straight into Kane. He caught her and she swung violently, connecting with his jaw. “What the fuck?” he demanded. “Lyric, what the hell?” She twisted away, intent only on running as far and as fast as she could. Kane hit her with a flying tackle and rolled them to the ground. He wrapped both arms around her and held her immobile as she kicked and raged against him. When she realized her efforts were futile, she collapsed against him, sobbing great, gasping sobs. “Shhh,” he said. “Lyric, what the hell is going on? What’s the matter?” “Get me out of here,” she choked out. “Please, Kane. Just take me away.” “Where the hell is Connor?” She went rigid. “He sold me out. Please, please, Kane.” The last of her fight left her and she simply shattered. Her chest hurt so badly she wondered if something wasn’t broken. She felt broken. So damaged that she’d never recover. She leaned her head on Kane’s shoulder as sob after sob welled from her throat. “Son of a bitch,” Kane murmured. He got to his feet and hauled her up into his arms, then made a run for the car. He shoved her inside, climbed in behind her and then ordered the driver to take off. “Where are we going, Lyric?” he asked. “What do you want to do?” “Away,” she said brokenly. “Just away from here. Somewhere safe.” He put a tentative hand on her arm as she lay huddled on the seat. “What the hell happened back there, Lyric?” She shook her head and closed her eyes as more tears slipped down her cheeks. How could she explain to him that she’d just been destroyed by the only man she’d ever trusted? The only person she’d ever trusted? She felt like the worst sort of fool. Why had he done it? Did he hate her so much? None of it made sense. Surely he didn’t need the money. Phillip was likely paying him a fortune for his babysitting job. Had his supposed infatuation with her been some sort of twisted game? Her throat was raw but she couldn’t stop the sobs. Grief welled out of her heart. Grief for her mom. Grief for herself. Grief for everything she’d believed of Connor and the dead hope for someone who loved and cherished her. She was dimly aware of the car stopping and then the door opening. “Lyric,” Kane said softly. “Can you make it out? We’re at the house.” It took her a moment for his words to sink in. She stirred slowly and looked at him through dull eyes. “I don’t want anyone here,” she said in a voice that cracked and was painful from the crying. “Do you understand? No one.” Kane nodded shortly. “If that’s what you want.” She tried to sit up but found she lacked the strength. She felt dead on the inside. She was in complete and utter shutdown. Was this what it felt like when you finally broke from reality? Maybe it had been a long time coming for her. There was only so long you could live in denial. Kane gently helped her from the car and wrapped an arm around her as he walked her toward the house. She trudged like an old woman, stumbling once when her feet dragged like lead. Wordlessly, Kane led her up the stairs and into her bedroom. She halted as soon as they got through the doorway, and she went rigid. “Not here,” she burst out. “I won’t stay in here.” She stared at the bed she and Connor had made love in. The same bed where she’d told him all her secrets. Had shared the pain of her past. The bed where she’d trusted him implicitly. “Okay,” Kane said softly. “There are other rooms.” “I don’t care where. Just not here.” He guided her toward one of the other bedrooms and she crawled onto the bed, curling into a ball and shutting herself off from him. She felt him sit on the bed, but she kept her eyes squeezed shut as she turned further into herself where it didn’t hurt quite so bad. The next thing she knew, a cool cloth was dabbed carefully at her face. The cut at her lips stung. The spot under her eye ached. “You going to tell me what the hell happened back there?” Kane asked in a quiet voice as he touched the cloth to her mouth again. “You’ll know soon enough,” she said bitterly. “It’ll be all over the news and the tabloids. You can thank Connor. He’s the only person I’ve ever told.” Kane swore. “Lyric, I don’t think...” “If you’re going to defend him, get out. Just leave me alone. Please.” She hated the pleading tone of her voice, but she was begging. She just wanted to be alone. Kane sighed and she felt him leave the bed. “If you need anything, let me know. I’ll check in on you later.” She didn’t respond. She listened to his retreating footsteps and then shoved her fist into her mouth as more tears began to fall. CHAPTER 31

“ Y ou going to tell me how you wound up in jail?” Micah asked as he and Connor walked from the police station. “They tried to keep me from Lyric. I resisted,” he said shortly. “Thanks for coming so quickly. Pop didn’t answer the phone, but to tell the truth, I’d rather not get into it with him right now.” “No problem,” Micah said with a shrug. “What the hell happened?” Connor ignored Micah as they climbed into his truck and opened his cell phone. It had been three goddamn hours since things had gone to hell at the music store. He had no idea where Lyric was, if she was safe, or just how upset she was. Well, that wasn’t true. It was pretty damn obvious she was destroyed by what she thought was his betrayal of her. It pissed him the fuck off. How could she think he’d ever do that to her? There was only one missed call and it sure as hell wasn’t from Lyric. It was from Kane. He hit the button for his voice mail and listened to the short message. “Connor, I have no idea what the hell happened back there. Lyric’s a mess. She’s here at the house and she doesn’t want anyone allowed on the premises. You included. Give me a call when you get this so you can fill me in. I’m working without a net here.” “Son of a bitch,” Connor swore. “Is there anything I can do?” Micah asked quietly. Connor pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and closed his eyes. “This is a goddamn mess, Micah. I don’t know what the hell to do. I’m going to lose her and I’m not sure there’s a damn thing I can do about it.” Micah winced in sympathy. “Been there, done that. Don’t ever have the desire to do it again. Tell me what happened. Maybe an objective opinion will help.” “I can’t,” Connor said helplessly. “She already thinks I betrayed her trust. The shit’s going to hit the fan any minute now. Maybe it already has. She thinks I sold her out to the media. She trusted me. Only me. It looks bad, but goddamn, I told her I loved her. How can she believe I’d do that to her?” “Sounds like you’ve both had a shitty day,” Micah murmured. “Yeah,” Connor said bleakly. “You could say that.” “So where am I taking you?” “Home.” Micah lifted a brow as he stared over at Connor. “Giving up that easily?” “I have to give her some time. She’s devastated. She’s told her security not to allow anyone on the premises. I can’t pile on her right now. It’s going to goddamn kill me, but I’ve got to give her time to cool off and get over the initial shock.” Connor curled his fingers into tight balls. He wanted to put his fist through the window. He should be with her right now. He should be holding her. He should be her shield against the world. But she was desperately alone and she was hurting and he couldn’t get within ten feet of her. “Look, why don’t you come home with me and have a few beers? It beats going home and driving yourself insane.” Connor sighed. “Thanks, man. You know I’d love to see Angelina, but the truth is I’m really shitty company right now.” “Okay. Offer stands, though.” Twenty minutes later, Micah pulled into the apartment complex he shared with Connor. Connor got out, waved his thanks to Micah again, then headed for his apartment while Micah walked back to his. He unlocked his door and went inside, home for the first time since the day he’d gone to Lyric’s hotel room after their meeting at the office. Boy, had his life changed dramatically since then. That day had started something he’d never dreamed would happen. It seemed a lifetime ago. His apartment had always been comfortable. Lived in. Slightly cluttered. His comfort place. A place he always enjoyed coming back to. Tonight it was barren and sterile. The silence was suffocating and the walls seemed to close in on him from every direction. He flopped onto the couch and reached for his phone to call Kane. He hadn’t wanted to go into the details in front of Micah. No matter that she already thought he’d betrayed her. He’d never tell anyone the things she’d shared with him. “How is she?” Connor demanded when Kane answered the phone. Kane sighed. “Not good. What the fuck happened?” “It’s a clusterfuck, Kane. I can’t get into the details. They’ll be public soon enough. She thinks I sold her out. It’s bullshit.” “Yeah, I figured.” “You sit on her, Kane. Keep her safe. Don’t let her do anything stupid. I’m going to give her until tomorrow and then I’m coming over and I don’t give a fuck how many guys you throw at me. All I’ll say is that you better be up on your workman’s comp, because if anyone tries to stop me, they’ll wind up in the hospital.”
Her head ached. Her jaw ached. Her heart ached. Her eyes were swollen and her nose felt like it had run off her face. She looked and sounded horrible. She had no voice, which was pretty stupid considering it was how she made her living. Her throat was so swollen it was hard to swallow but no matter how much she tried to turn it off, tears still leaked endlessly down her cheeks. She’d lain in bed for hours. Kane had come and gone with an ice pack for her face. He’d hesitated and she could tell he had no liking for leaving her, but she shut him out and curled in on herself even more until he’d left with a sigh. Grief was a living, breathing entity inside her. It swelled so much that she feared she would break. Maybe she was already broken. Maybe she’d always been broken and had slapped enough Band-Aids on to muddle through. She tried hard to conjure her mother’s face, to remember her smile, but every time she thought of her she saw only blood, heard the sounds of her being beaten and heard her cries of pain. She hadn’t even attended her mother’s funeral. Had there even been a service? Lyric doubted it. There had been no money and no one to care. Lyric had been hospitalized for days and afterward she’d been released into the care of the state. They’d tried their best. Lyric had lived in a poor county without many resources. No one had been willing to foster the silent, grieving child. She’d been too steeped in violence. Many were afraid that Danny Higgins would come after her. After the trial she’d been shipped off to Jackson and shuffled around there. She’d been awarded a new life. New name. New birth certificate. The kind judge had told her that this was her opportunity to rise above her circumstances. It was the only thing that had managed to break through the thick wall of defense she’d erected. She’d taken him at his word. She’s chosen her name to honor her mother’s love for her singing. And she’d made a vow that one day she’d get the hell out of Mississippi and she’d never look back. She’d spent every day after that running. Always running from her past. Burying everything under a don’t-give-a-shit, abrasive exterior so that no one ever dug deep. Until Connor. A fresh surge of pain nearly paralyzed her. She’d believed him. Or maybe she’d been so desperate for someone to love her that she’d been blinded. But she had believed in him and his love for her. She’d wanted it so bad even when it baffled her. She sat up in bed and wrapped her cold arms around herself and hugged as she rocked back and forth. A glance at the clock told her it was nearly two a.m. She laid her cheek on her knees and stared sightlessly toward the window. She didn’t even know where her mother was buried. The thought hit her like a thunderclap and she flinched from the realization. She’d been so focused on her own survival that she’d never gone back to see her mother’s grave. Didn’t even know if her life had been marked by a cold slab of concrete. Had she been forgotten? Brushed aside as a county expense? Had anyone ever brought flowers to acknowledge the life, however short it had been? Lyric struggled out of bed. Her clothes were wrinkled. She hadn’t changed. Blood stained her shirt. Her pants sported a new tear. She thrust her feet into a pair of flip-flops by the bed and went in search of Kane. He wasn’t asleep. It shouldn’t have surprised her. The man was more machine than human. He was awake in the living room, a book propped on his knee. He looked up when she entered and got to his feet with a frown. “You look like hell, Lyric.” She blinked at the personal assessment. It was very unlike Kane to offer more than a professional opinion. But it was clear that concern burned in his eyes. “I need to go to Mississippi,” she said in a stark voice. Kane’s brows drew together in a frown. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “I have to go. Now. I’d like you to go. I may be crazy but I’m not completely without a sense of self-preservation. I’ll pay you. Of course. Your travel expenses. Whatever.” Kane rubbed a hand through his hair. “Look, Lyric, you’re clearly distraught. No decision should ever be made under this kind of emotional duress. Get some sleep. If you still feel like you need to go tomorrow, I’ll take you.” She turned, her back ramrod stiff. “I’ll go alone, then.” A curse exploded from Kane and he crossed the room to grasp her arm. “What the hell is in Mississippi?” She glanced dully up at him. “My mother.”
Connor’s phone rang at six a.m. He hadn’t slept a wink the entire night. He’d been too pissed and too worried. He reached for the phone he’d tossed on the couch and put it to his ear. “Malone,” he said shortly. “We’re coming over,” Gray said in his ear. “Don’t bother,” Connor muttered. “Fuck you.” The line went dead and Connor slouched back on the couch. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. He should have slept. He had to be at his best to confront Lyric. She was going to listen to him, damn it. He checked his watch. Two more hours. He’d give her two hours and then he was going to take no prisoners. His doorbell rang and he cursed. Damn interfering friends. He dragged himself to his feet and went to open the door. “Don’t look so happy to see us,” Micah said dryly as he shoved his way in. “What the hell do y’all want?” he asked irritably. “Our women heard of the hoopla. They’re all pretty pissed,” Gray said as he and Nathan came in behind Micah. “That was quite a scene yesterday.” Connor sighed in resignation and slammed the door before turning to follow the guys into his living room. “Is everything out?” Connor asked wearily. Nathan’s mouth twisted. “Yeah, I’d say so. Or at least all the sordid details of her past. Julie’s ready to go kick some serious ass even though she has no idea whose ass she wants to kick.” “Lyric thinks I sold her out,” Connor said bleakly. “She confided in me the night before. And then at the music store, it all came out.” “That’s rough,” Micah said. “That had to be a huge shock for her.” “I told her I loved her,” Connor bit out. “I laid it all out. How could she think I’d betray her like that?” “I understand why you’re pissed,” Gray said carefully. “But Lyric doesn’t strike me as someone who has a lot of trust. In anyone. Can’t say I blame her if all that shit is true. You have to admit, the timing of it would cause a knee-jerk reaction.” Connor dropped into a chair and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I get it. I do. I can see how it looks. It looks pretty damn bad.” “The question is, who spilled her story to the media?” Nathan asked. Connor scowled. “My money is on her fuck-head of an ex-manager. When she fired him, he threatened her. Told her he could bury her and that he knew things. If not him, then her ex-bodyguards are likely suspects, provided they knew of her past.” “Want us to find out?” Micah asked a little too eagerly. Connor surveyed the anger in his friends’ eyes and was grateful to have their support. “Yeah. Whatever you can do would be great. I’m going to be a little busy.” Gray lifted an eyebrow and a smile glimmered on his lips. Connor stared over at his friends, his expression resolute. “I’m going to make Lyric listen to me. I get why she thought what she did. I don’t even blame her. It pissed me off, but she was totally unprepared for that to come at her and she reacted. But I’m not letting her go.” His friends’ faces broadened into grins. Gray chuckled. “I always knew that, of any of us, when you fell, you’d fall the hardest.” Connor held up his middle finger and they burst into laughter. CHAPTER 32

L yric stood over the small, plain grave marker that was smudged with dirt and mildew. Weeds had grown over the plot so much that she’d had to shove them aside to even read the inscription. It was short and to the point. No inspirational quote or little tag like loving mother, beloved sister or friend. Just her mother’s name and the dates of her life. Like she hadn’t mattered or she wasn’t important enough to rate something nicer. The flowers shook in her hands. So much so that a few of the petals floated to the ground, marking a stark contrast between the dead, brown grass and the vibrant purple of the violets. They were her mom’s favorite. She’d loved anything purple, but violets were her favorite and they’d grown wild in their yard. Lyric remembered picking them in the spring and her mother’s bright smile when she’d taken the limp flowers from Lyric’s two-fisted grip. Lyric knelt and carefully arranged the violets in a decorative pattern. In the distance she could hear the sounds of cameras and shouted questions. Kane had done a wonderful job positioning his men to keep back the small crowd of reporters who’d flocked to the small town of Collins, Mississippi, the instant the details of her past had been made public. Kane stood a short distance away, keeping to the side to afford her as much privacy as possible. Three of his men formed a wide perimeter around the grave and kept diligent watch on the crowd that the rest of the security team controlled. “I’m making you a promise, Mama. As soon as I settle somewhere and have a home, I’ll make sure you’re moved. There’s nothing for you and me here. You should be somewhere happier. I’ll make sure you have a respectable headstone that celebrates the mother you were and that you died trying to protect me from a monster.” Tears slid down her cheeks and made a pattern in the dust surrounding the grave. Her sobs caught painfully in her chest and her throat swelled with unbearable grief. “I’ll bring you flowers. Violets and maybe some purple irises. I know it’s been a long time since we spoke. I spent so many years angry at you for leaving me. I was wrong. So terribly wrong. I wanted you to know that I did it. I became a singer. Just like you always wanted. I got to choose my new name when everything changed after the trial. I chose Lyric for you. As a promise that I’d fulfill your dream for me. I hope you’re proud of me. I haven’t done a lot to make you proud but I’m going to change that. You deserve more from the daughter you died protecting.” She wiped at her face with the back of her hand and rose to her feet. Kane was there to steady her and he tucked her against him as they walked slowly back to the convoy of SUVs they’d driven from Texas. She’d given Kane the address of her old house. She didn’t even know if it would still be there. She was torn on whether or not she even wanted to face the place where her mother had died, but some force inside her propelled her. Maybe it was her need for closure, or maybe it was finally time to face her demons. She knew only that she couldn’t move forward until she’d come to grips with the terrible hurt inside her. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Kane asked as they pulled away from the cemetery. She nodded, not trusting her voice not to crack if she spoke. The scenery was a blur as they rolled out of town and turned down a series of dirt roads that led farther into the country. When they came to a stop, she sat still in her seat, looking out the window at the run-down, overgrown wooden house where her life had irrevocably changed. It seemed smaller now. Not nearly as menacing as it had when she was a child. She would have sworn it was huge, so large that it swallowed her whole. In reality it was barely larger than a shack. Windows were broken out. Shutters were either missing or barely still hanging. Most of the white paint had long since peeled and chipped away. Boards were missing from the front porch and the lawn obviously hadn’t been maintained since her mother had been murdered. It was a sad, frail house where ghosts of the past still lingered. Carefully she opened her car door and slipped out into the sun. She shivered slightly as the breeze nipped at her skin. It wasn’t a cold day. In fact, it was a glorious day. South on the cusp of spring. The violets she’d remembered growing wild were scattered among the growth of weeds, little bursts of color against the grass still dead from winter. But she felt as though she were encased in ice, as though the spring sun hadn’t quite reached her soul. She stood staring at the shell of a place she’d once lived. Where her most painful memories sprang to life. And she knew she couldn’t go in. That there was no purpose in going in. It was just a house. Just a bunch of wood and nails barely held together. It didn’t have any power over her. The sound of another engine registered in her consciousness. She dragged her gaze from the house, expecting to have Kane shove her back into the car. It was probably more reporters. They’d been pursued ever since they’d arrived in town. To her shock, Connor got out of his truck and strode in her direction, his expression one of great fatigue, hurt and concern. “What the hell are you doing, Lyric?” he demanded as he drew closer. “You shouldn’t go in there alone. You shouldn’t go in there at all.” She stared numbly at him, alternately so glad to see him and so furious that he was here. She was too tired to summon any sort of reaction and so she just stood there, trying to gather the strength to tell him to go. “My God, you look like I feel,” he muttered just as he yanked her into his arms. It didn’t occur to her to push him away. His heat surrounded her, bathing her in a blanket of