Unfaded

by Julie Johnson

  “What kind of daughter won’t speak to her own flesh and blood?”

  “The kind that knows you aren’t here just for quality time.”

  “You ungrateful little whore.” She spits out the word, a gob of saliva landing by my feet. “Tarted up like you’re something special with your big record deal. Well, I’ll tell you something, Felicity Wilde — you’re not special. You never were.”

  I am still as death, staring at her. When I speak, my voice is a hollowed-out shell. “How much?”

  Her eyes flash. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  The air goes tense as I take a small step forward and repeat the question with quiet vehemence.

  “How. Much. To. Make. You. Go. Away.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Just tell me,” I snap.

  “Fifty-thousand dollars!” she blurts, a feral hunger in her eyes. “And that’s a bargain, considering you stole my inheritance out from under me like a common thief. I don’t know what you said to my mother to make her change things in your favor, but I wouldn’t get too used to that money — your father and I are contesting the will. She was a sick woman, and you took shameful advantage of her.”

  My spine stiffens. “I didn’t do a thing except love her. Gran left her estate to me because she loved me, too.”

  “How could anyone love you?” she seethes.

  I flinch, despite myself.

  “Enough!” Ryder barks. “Get her out of here.”

  Linden and York strong-arm her away without another beat of hesitation. She struggles this time, turning to lock eyes with me before they drag her into the crowd, out of my life.

  “You should’ve dealt with me, Felicity.” Her grin is chilling. “Now you’ll have to deal with him.”

  Long after she disappears from sight, the words ring in my ears.

  Carly passes me a cup of chamomile tea. The whole band is gathered in the bus’s small galley kitchen and dining area, eerily silent as they watch me take a scalding sip. The only sound is the slight rumble of the bus beneath us as we careen down the highway through the dark night. I’m feeling steadier with each passing mile we put between us and LA.

  “You can all stop hovering,” I murmur. “I’m not going to fall apart or skip out on the tour.”

  I’m done running.

  Surprisingly, it’s Lincoln who breaks the silence. “We’re not here because we’re worried you’ll abandon ship, Felicity. We’re here because when your friends are in a rough spot, you show up.”

  My smile is soft but warm. “Thanks, Linc.”

  “No thanks necessary.” He shrugs, pushes to his feet, and heads to the back of the bus, where six luxury bunk beds line the walls. “On that note, I’m gonna crash. And when we wake up — viva Las Vegas, bitches.”

  He winks and disappears down the hall.

  Aiden starts to follow, but something stops him. There’s an unreadable expression on his face as he turns and stalks in my direction. My eyes, wide from his abrupt change of course, go even wider when he leans down and plants an unexpected kiss on my forehead.

  “Tomorrow will be better,” he says simply.

  My eyes are smarting as he walks away, leaving me alone in the kitchen with Carly and Ryder. The former, seated on the plush leather couch beside me, is worriedly gnawing on her lip. The latter, leaning against the wall, looks lost in thoughts I can’t begin to decipher.

  “We should all get some sleep.” I set down my mug and rise to my feet. “I need to change out of this dress and wipe this makeup off my face.”

  Carly jumps up. “Let me help you.”

  “Carly, I’m fine.”

  “I never said you weren’t.”

  “You didn’t say it, but you’re treating me like I’m made of glass. I’m not going to break. I’ve been putting myself to bed since I was four. I’ll manage just fine without your assistance.”

  “Honey—”

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, okay?” My eyes press closed. “I just want to crawl into bed and forget it happened.”

  She doesn’t say a word. She just leans in and wraps me up in a warm hug.

  “What was that for?” I ask when we break apart.

  “I need a reason to hug my best friend?”

  I laugh lightly. “I guess not.”

  “I’m going to go claim a bunk as far from Lincoln’s snores as I can get.” Carly’s eyes dart from me to Ryder and back again. “You two… get some rest.”

  She turns to leave us, and a bolt of panic shoots through me at the thought of being alone with him for the first time since our pre-show fight.

  “Carly—”

  Too late. She’s already halfway down the hall, disappearing into the small bathroom by the bunks. Standing with Ryder in the dim light of the kitchen, my heart is full of so many contradictory feelings, there’s hardly room for all of them at once. Between our heated words, the concert, and my mother’s appearance… I can hardly sort out one emotion from the next.

  “I guess I’ll turn in, too,” I murmur.

  He grunts noncommittally, not shifting from his spot.

  I take a few steps toward the hall, closing some of the distance between us in the process. He doesn’t move toward me, but I feel his eyes on my skin like a physical weight, tracing the lines of my body as if to reassure himself I’m still standing here.

  My feet falter.

  My eyes lift to his.

  My voice trembles out.

  “Thank you, Ryder.”

  If possible, he goes even stiller. “Don’t thank me, Felicity.”

  My brows lift at the hard edge in his voice. “Why not? You saved me, out there.”

  “It’s my fault she was here in the first place.” The whisper is fragmented, so low I can hardly make out his words.

  “What do you mean?” My heart starts to pound. “How is it your fault?”

  “The only reason she knew how to find you was because of this tour. Because I dragged you back to this life.”

  I glance up into his face, reading the lines of guilt etched there. The pain in his eyes is so stark, it stops me in my tracks.

  “First of all, you didn’t drag me back, Ryder. Route 66 did.” I sigh and run my hands through my hair. “Secondly, this isn’t my first run-in with my parents. Not by a long shot. Why do you think I was using a fake ID when I first met you? I’ve been trying to escape them for a long time. Coming back here… I knew the risks.”

  “Maybe. But I’m the one who dragged you into the spotlight the first time around. If you’d never met me… you’d be safe.”

  “Ryder…” My voice catches in my throat as my eyes move over his face. I want to step forward until this distance between us disappears. To feel his arms close around me, pulling me tight against his chest.

  I used to think his arms were the safest place in the whole world.

  “You don’t get to take all the blame for this. When we got that record deal, I could’ve said no. I could’ve walked away. But I didn’t.” I shrug. “I made my own choices. I chose this life.”

  I chose you.

  He’s staring at me and the look on his face is filled with so much longing, I nearly fall to my knees at his feet and beg him to make me forget all the reasons we aren’t together, all the wrong turns we’ve taken that led us away from each other.

  Just for tonight. Just for a few hours, in his arms.

  But I don’t. I can’t. Not with a bus-load of people around us. Not when I know things will be different tomorrow, in the harsh light of day.

  “Goodnight, Felicity,” he says carefully.

  “Goodnight, Ryder,” I whisper, equally cautious.

  Neither of us moves.

  You’ve said goodnight.

  Why aren’t you moving? And why isn’t he?

  I stare at him, across three feet of space, wondering why it feels so far. And he stares back at me, a whole galaxy of different desires alight in his eyes.


  I’m not sure who moves first. Looking back, it might’ve been me, but I can’t say with any sort of certainty. All I know is, suddenly we’re chest to chest, breaths tangling in the space between our faces. My spine arches up as his lips begin to descend, and…

  The bathroom door swings open with a bang.

  We spring apart at the sound like two horses spooked by a gunshot on the starting line, whirling to watch as Carly barrels into the hall, dressed in a sleep-shirt that falls to mid-thigh. When she catches sight of us, her face contorts in a wince of regret.

  “Sorry!” she hisses in a stage-whisper, sliding into her bunk across from Aiden on the bottom row and tugging the curtain closed. “Don’t mind me!”

  But the moment has shattered like glass.

  Heart thudding, I keep my eyes averted and swallow hard enough to clear some of the haze from my head.

  “Right. Well. Night, then.”

  He doesn’t respond as I walk out of the kitchen, grabbing my overnight bag off the couch as I go. I close myself inside the bathroom and lock the door before I do something supremely stupid. Something that makes my nerve-endings sing with sheer anticipation as I unzip my dress and tug on my thin nightgown. Something that has my knees weaker than water as I stand at the sink wiping scarlet off my still-tingling mouth.

  When I step back into the hall, the lights have been doused. My breaths come far too rapidly as I wait for my eyes to adjust. When they do, I don’t see Ryder anywhere, and the only sound I can hear is Lincoln’s rhythmic snores rumbling behind the pulled curtain on my left. Shoving my bag into an empty storage cubby, I quickly ascend to the top-level bunk above Carly’s, my bare feet cold on the recessed ladder rungs.

  It’s not until several moments later, after I’m tucked firmly in bed, that I hear Ryder finally make his way down the hall from the galley and close himself inside the bathroom. I close my eyes, trying to sleep, but I’m still wide awake when he hauls himself up into the bunk above Aiden’s — directly across from mine. I hear a rustle of bare skin against sheets, and feel my mouth go dry.

  Pretend you’re asleep.

  Don’t you dare look at him.

  Rational reason abandoned, my eyes sliver open. He’s lying on his side with his head propped on one hand, watching me. Our gazes lock instantly in the dark. I notice his breaths are just as unsteady as mine as one minute creeps by, then another.

  His eyes hold a promise he can’t yet make; mine an apology I can’t yet voice.

  Neither of us says a word as we lie there, simply staring at each other. Nor does either of us move to pull our curtains closed. If not for the narrow hallway between us, I could almost convince myself we’re lying side-by-side in the same bed.

  It’s a soothing thought, after all that’s happened today.

  The bus rolls ever onward beneath us, headed eastbound, the rhythm of the road lulling me toward sleep with each spin of the tires. When my heartbeats have slowed, when my eyes have grown too heavy to keep open another instant, I finally succumb.

  Ryder’s two-tone eyes, holding mine in the darkness, are the last thing I see before I slip under.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ryder

  “Dude! Get up!”

  Linc’s fist bangs against my bunk, and my eyes spring open. The bus is no longer moving. Harsh light streams through the tinted windows at the end of the hall. I squint as I take in the empty bunk across from mine.

  She’s already gone.

  I sit up, banging my head against the roof of the bus. “Fuck.”

  Lincoln chuckles.

  I glower. “What time is it?”

  “Just after nine.”

  “When did we get here?”

  “About two hours ago.”

  I hop off my bunk. “And you didn’t wake me because…”

  “Because I don’t know how to wake the dead.” He shrugs. “You looked exhausted. Full-on zombie-mode. We figured we’d let you sleep. What’s the big deal?”

  My eyes cut to her empty bunk again.

  “Ah.” Recognition jolts into him. “Felicity is the big deal.”

  My jaw clenches.

  “Don’t grimace at me.” He smirks. “She’s with Carly. They already checked into the hotel. We’ve got sweet rooms overlooking the whole strip.”

  I couldn’t give less of a shit about the hotel. My only priority right now is finding her and making sure she’s holding up all right, after everything that went down with her mother.

  Last night, when I stepped out of the building, I knew instantly who the drugged-out woman clawing at Felicity had to be. I’ve never moved so fast in my life, getting to her side. And I’ve never seen that look on Felicity’s face before — so small and defenseless and subdued. Standing there like a child as her mother said all manner of horrible things.

  Ungrateful whore.

  Common thief.

  You’re not special.

  Who would ever love you?

  I could’ve strangled that woman with my bare hands, but doing so in front of the swarming paparazzi probably would’ve gotten me arrested again.

  God, it’s no wonder Felicity keeps her walls so high. Her family makes mine look like a fucking picnic.

  I’ll take your alcoholic, anger-prone father and raise you one drugged-out, physically abusive mother.

  Yanking on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, I run my hands through my sleep-mussed hair, shove a pair of sunglasses on my face, and sling my bag over one shoulder.

  “Where’s Aiden?” I ask, finally ready.

  “Waiting outside. Figured we’d drag you to breakfast with us.”

  I smirk. “Afraid if you two went alone, everyone would assume you were on a date?”

  Linc grins wide. “Please. He should be so lucky.”

  We both laugh as we step through the bus doors into the bright sunshine. It’s nine in the morning, but Vegas is swelteringly hot. The pavement around us steams as we cut across the parking lot to the veranda outside our hotel, where Aiden is smoking a cigarette in a narrow slice of shade. Linden and York are hovering a dozen feet away, our ever-silent shadows, keeping watch as tourists mill about the entrance. I duck my head, hoping to go undetected for as long as possible.

  “Took you long enough,” Aiden says when he spots us, stubbing out his cigarette with one heel. “What were you doing in there, primping?”

  “Just making myself pretty for you.” I bat my lashes at him.

  He shoves my arm. “Come on. I’m starving. There’s a restaurant out by the pool.”

  “Bacon with a bikini view.” Linc grins. “I like the way you think, my friend.”

  As we step into the air-conditioned lobby, I pass off my bag to a waiting bellhop, pressing a crisp twenty in his palm before he scurries away. The hotel is opulent and overdone — decorated in rich reds and gleaming gold hues, frescoes painted on every ceiling. We pass a gaudy decorative fountain filled with Roman emperors of old, then wind our way through row after row of slot machines used to lure fresh arrivals into the adjacent casino before they’ve even checked in.

  This place is a zoo, and we’re the damn animals.

  By the time we find the restaurant, nearly an hour has gone by and we’re all ravenous. A hostess shows us to a table in the shade, overlooking the sprawling series of aqua lagoons and waterfalls below. Calling this place a pool is like calling Niagara Falls a stream — the sheer scope of it is hard to take in all at once. Bevies of beautiful women flock in clusters, holding mimosas in their hands as they stroll the perimeter, weaving between imported palm trees and tacky faux-talian columns. They remind me of the tropical birds outside Grayson’s treehouse in Oahu, chirping and preening as they attempt to lure in potential mates.

  Lincoln unleashes a shameless growl as a blonde in a sarong saunters by on the pool deck below.

  “Did you see the tits on—”

  A rough throat clears, cutting off Linc’s crude assessment. We all look over to see our waiter has arrived.
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br />   “What can I get you?” he asks flatly, looking like he’d rather be just about anywhere else on the planet than here serving us.

  “Let’s pop a bottle, shall we?” Linc asks, looking hopeful.

  “It’s ten in the morning,” Aiden points out.

  “And that’s a problem because…?”

  Aiden just shakes his head.

  “Ry? How ‘bout you?”

  “I don’t drink,” I remind him absently, scanning my menu for food options as my stomach growls.

  “Yeah, I know. I figured you’d loosen the reins, now that we’re out on the road.” Linc sighs. “Isn’t the point of going on tour to finally live like a star?”

  “Actually, the point of a tour is the music.” Aiden’s voice drops to a serious tone. “You want to live the party lifestyle, you might as well go back to playing with Lacey.”

  Linc hisses at the thought. “Christ, you two are buzz-kills.”

  The waiter clears his throat again, with far less patience.

  “We’ll take a round of orange juice,” I tell him. “And I’ll get the southwestern omelette. Extra hash browns and a side of bacon.”

  “I’ll have the same,” Linc says. “But please, for the love of god, dump a half-bottle of champagne into my juice. Someone around here needs to commemorate this godforsaken moment.”

  I shake my head at his melodramatics. Aiden orders blueberry pancakes, the waiter disappears to assist his other tables, and we plunge into uneasy silence.

  “So, is this what it’s gonna be like, from now on?” Lincoln sounds like he’s in one of his moods — I sense a tantrum coming on. The look Aiden shoots me from across the table suggests his thoughts are on a similar plane.

  Great.

  I grit my teeth. “What are you talking about, Linc?”

  “You! The two wet-blankets I used to call friends.”

  “Wet blankets? Because we won’t start drinking during breakfast?” My brow furrows. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “No! No.” Linc blows out a breath. “It’s not about the drinking. I don’t give a shit if you party or not. You want to stay sober, that’s your prerogative, man.”