My dad stood in front of the open fridge. He didn't glance up when I appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"You looking for something to eat?" I asked.
He nodded shortly, not looking at me.
"I'm sorry," I told him. "It totally slipped my mind today was Wednesday."
He grunted and closed the fridge.
"I brought some chicken and salad." I placed the food on the kitchen table. I'd made a brief stop at a grocery store with a pre-made section, hoping to find something not terribly unhealthy. "I know it's not your favorite, but you can't eat take-out all the time."
"Thanks," he said flatly.
My father wandered from the kitchen back to the living room. He still hadn't looked at me or Damon. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
Damon took my arm and tugged me aside.
"What the hell?" he whispered. "Is he always like this?"
"Yeah," I said sadly. "Pretty much."
Damon looked toward the living room with dismay. "He's acting like—"
"Like I'm the last person in the world he wants to see?"
Damon's eyes turned soft. He pulled me into a hug. I rested my cheek against his chest, letting myself enjoy in his embrace.
The television in the living room clicked on. I pulled back.
"I'm going to put together a plate of food," I told Damon.
I put the chicken on a plate and put it in the microwave. I got a knife and fork and some paper napkins. I turned and rested my back against the counter. Damon was watching me carefully.
"So, now you've met the in-laws," I joked weakly. "There's a lot less drama on my side of the family, so I guess you're lucky that way."
"Faith…" Damon spoke my name out loud, sympathy in his voice, but that was it. He didn't seem to know what else to say.
The microwave beeped. I took out the plate, heaped on some salad, and brought it to the living room. Damon followed.
"Here you go, Dad." I put the plate on the coffee table next to his armchair. "Better eat it before it gets cold."
My father finally turned to me. His eyes flicked over my shoulder, landing on Damon. The corners of his mouth turned down.
"Damon, this is my dad, Justice Briars," I introduced. "Dad, this is Damon Drake. He's my—"
I nearly choking on my tongue. I didn't know what to call him. We hadn't had any kind of conversation about this yet. He knew I was in love with him, and he seemed more than chuffed at the knowledge. I knew Damon liked me. He said he didn't want to be with anyone else. But did he mean forever, or did he just mean for now?
Before I could continue with the noncommittal word friend, Damon jumped in.
"I'm her boyfriend," Damon said smoothly.
I stared at him. Damon looked to me and winked. I pressed my lips together. That didn't stop a small smile from trying to creep across my face. I didn't know whether he was just saying that to save face — I couldn't very well introduce him as my fuck buddy — or if this was Damon's way of telling me he wanted to be serious. Committed.
My heart sang a little thrill at the thought.
"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Damon stuck his hand out for a shake.
My father eyed Damon's hand blandly before reaching out and giving it a single pump. He pulled his hand back quickly.
"Nice to meet you," my dad mumbled. He returned his attention back to the television.
A muscle twitched in Damon's clenched jaw. I could practically see the question in his eyes. What the hell is his deal?
I wished Damon hadn't insisted on coming.
"Okay, well, we're going to go now," I said, wanting to cut this visit short.
"Mm," my father grunted.
"I'll see you next Wednesday."
Tears pricked the back of my eyes. I hurried through the living room and out of the house with brisk steps. I needed to get myself under control before Damon saw. He didn't need to know how much this affected me.
I was already in the passenger seat when Damon exited the house slowly. He closed the door behind him. I took in a deep breath and blinked rapidly, trying to dry my eyes. I hoped they weren't red-rimmed.
Damon got into the car.
"Can you drive me back to my place?" I said immediately. "It's been a really long day. I've got a lot of work tomorrow. I need to get some sleep."
Damon nodded. He started the engine. He pulled out of the driveway. Only then did he speak.
"Hope thinks your dad is just a workaholic," he said. It wasn't a question. "She thinks that's why the two of you never see him."
"He used to be," I shrugged helplessly. "Then he got put on medical leave. And now he's like this."
"And you come here every week?" Damon asked.
"Someone has to make sure he's eating and sleeping and not just…" I trailed off.
Damon gave me a quick look of disbelief before turning his attention back to the road. "Faith, you don't have to torture yourself like this."
"I'm not going to let him just waste away," I said. "He might hate the sight of me but he's still my dad."
Damon ran one hand through his hair, frustrated. "And you haven't told Hope?"
"If I told her she'd insist on helping," I explained. "It's bad enough one of us goes through this every week. There's no reason she needs to go through this, too."
Damon went silent, as if thinking hard. Eventually he spoke.
"You have to tell her," he said.
I looked out the window. "You're one to talk."
Damon made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat. "That's different."
"How is it different?" I snapped. "You wanted to protect Ian from your father. I want to protect Hope from mine."
"Hope needed to know her father isn't…" Damon trailed off with a deep sigh. "She thinks everything is fine. She has no idea he's… like that. What if something happens? You think she'd like to find out that way?"
"I told you. If she knows, she'll insist on helping. You saw how he treated me. You think I want Hope to go through that every week?"
"You shouldn't have to go through it."
"Someone has to."
Damon growled. "You're so stubborn."
"I'm just doing what's best for my sister," I shot back. "Same as you."
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared out the window again. We didn't talk the rest of the way. When Damon pulled up to my apartment, he put the car in park and turned to me.
"If you don't tell her, I will," he said.
I whipped my head around. His expression was steady, impassive. I glared at him.
"Don't you dare," I warned.
"Someone has to," he said reasonably. "It's not fair to her. Or to you."
"You don't get to tell me what to do."
Damon narrowed his eyes at me. "You always say someone needs to act like an adult, but you're the one being childish right now."
I gaped at him before firming my lips.
"You want childish?" I unbuckled my seat belt with sharp movements. I yanked on the interior handle and flung the door open. I swung my legs around and set my feet on the ground with a stomp. "Fine. Here's childish for you."
"Faith!" Damon struggled with his seatbelt as he leaned across the passenger seat. "Wait."
I turned to him, radiating fury with every molecule of my body.
"You ever experience the silent treatment?" I fumed. "Because if you tell Hope, I am never speaking to you again."
I slammed the car shut and ran into the building.
Chapter Thirty
It was the day of the sleep out. Maybe one of the most important events of my career. If everything went off without a hitch, I'd impress my boss and be in the running for a promotion. If something went wrong, if this whole thing turned into a disaster…
I shook my head. No. I wasn't going to have a defeatist attitude. This was going to be the event of the year. I would make sure of it. Katherine and I had worked hard for months on this project. We'd thought of every possible issue,
every possible snag that might pop up. We had contingency plans for our contingency plans.
The only problem was…
"Damon keeps asking about you," Katherine said.
I paused, a stack of folders in my hand.
"I keep telling him you're busy and you'll call him back, just like you said," she continued.
"Thanks, Kat."
Katherine side-eyed me. We were going over folders of itineraries, compete with everyone's schedule, emergency contact information, detailed maps of the stadium with every important area highlighted, and more. Every person helping to run the event would get one. I'd found early on in my career that putting together these packets were a necessity. I didn't need to spend half the night answering the same dozen questions.
"He's been pretty persistent," Katherine noted.
I avoided her eyes. "I don't think he knows how to be any other way," I said, pretending to go over the list of important phone numbers one more time.
"It's going to be hard running this event if you're not speaking to him."
"I'm not—" I put down the papers. I rubbed at my tired eyes. It was only just past noon, but I'd already been up since five. The event didn't officially start until six at night.
It was going to be a long day.
"I know I shouldn't pry," Katherine began.
"But that's not going to stop you from doing it anyway?"
"You've been miserable this last week," she continued. "Everyone has noticed. And I can't help but think it has to do something to do with him."
"Has the whole office been gossiping about my love life?"
"No," Katherine said. "Everyone assumes it's the stress of the event. I'm the only one who answers your phone. I haven't told anyone else how many times a certain sexy rock star keeps calling. And how many times I've had to make excuses because you refuse to talk to him."
"I'm not refusing to talk to him."
Katherine raised an eyebrow skeptically. I firmed my lips and went back to the folders, not responding to her silent question.
She was right.
I hadn't spoken a single word to Damon since that night he'd followed me to my dad's place.
Every day, I woke up with dread in my chest, wondering when Damon was finally going to tell Hope. Wondering when I'd get that call from her. Wondering when she'd insist on seeing Dad. So far, nothing.
But every time I thought about contacting Damon, my stomach twisted. I'd stormed out on him. I'd threatened him with silent treatment. I'd slammed the car door in his face.
I had acted like a child. It was embarrassing. I didn't like that Damon had seen that side of me.
But he'd made his own threat, too. I couldn't believe he thought he knew what was best for me. What was best for my family.
Still, although I hated to admit it, a part of me deep down knew Damon was right.
I had to tell my sister.
Somehow.
I closed my eyes and set the folders down with a thump. Katherine looked to me, startled.
"You know Faith, if you ever need to talk…" She left the offer open ended.
"I'm fine," I said. "But thank you." I picked up the folders and shuffled them around a few times. "I think these are in order. Let's go hand them out. Who's on the top of the list?"
She examined the first folder in her hand. "Looks like Jessie from that youth center."
Katherine and I were in the back offices of the stadium to take care of the admin stuff first. We'd hired a staffing company to do the physical set up and take down on the field, thank god. I didn't want to be the one putting up tents and tables in my Diana Six heels. Not to mention, the music label had hired a team to construct an entire stage in the middle of the field.
That was where we found Jessie, setting up a booth for The Impact Youth Center to promote their services. There was a handsome young man by her side with startling blue eyes. I recognized him as one of the guests at August's welcome home party. The one who threatened to punch Damon.
My gut churned at the memory. Damon had been flirting with the guy's sister. I'd been so pissed off. So hurt. I'd tried to run away.
Just like I did whenever anything got tough.
But Damon had followed me. He'd persisted.
Just like he was persisting now.
"Hey Faith!" Jessie greeted me with a cheery smile. She turned to the man at her side. Her eyes immediately softened as she looked up at him. "This is my boyfriend Gael."
He looked down at her adoringly before greeting me. "Nice to meet you. Faith?"
I nodded.
"You're the one who—" Gael cut himself off with a wince.
I folded my arms over my chest. "I'm the one who what?"
"Uh…" Gael turned blue, pleading eyes to Jessie.
"It's just that Damon's been a mopey, angsty bastard lately and we all figured you're the reason for it," Jessie said matter-of-factly.
I clenched my jaw.
"Gael Moreau!" Katherine blurted out, saving me from having to respond. "You're the bassist of Cherry Lips!"
Gael turned his gaze toward Katherine. "That's right, gorgeous. You a fan?" He winked.
"You were on tour with Darkest Days," she said. "Your drummer went up against August Summers. Wow. Getting to open for a band like Darkest Days… You guys are so lucky."
Katherine's eyes went distant and shiny. The disgruntled look that passed over Gael's face was almost comical. She was clearly more of a fan of Damon's band than of Gael's band.
Jessie snickered. She patted her boyfriend's chest consolingly. "It's okay, you're still my favorite."
Gael grumbled.
I handed Jessie a folder. "This is for you. Maps, schedules, phone numbers, everything you might need to know."
She took it, wide-eyed. "Wow. You really thought of everything."
"I'm just making sure this event goes off without a hitch," I said. "I've got copies for every band member who's going to be performing."
Gael nodded over my shoulder. "My sister Cerise is over there if you need her."
His sister. My heart clenched. The young woman Damon flirted with.
I shook my head inwardly, chastising myself. It had just been Damon acting like his usual annoying self.
When we got closer, I recognized Cerise from the long, dark, cherry red hair that she'd had at the party. Cerise. Cherry Lips. I snorted to myself. It seemed like a certain someone was a narcissist, naming their band after themselves. Her brother had certainly been full of himself. Maybe it ran in the family.
Then again, Damon was pretty arrogant himself. It was probably just a rock star thing.
"Excuse me," I said. "Sorry to interrupt."
Cerise paused her conversation with a tall, handsome young man.
"Oh, you're Faith," she said. "The one who's running the event. I wanted to thank you for thinking of Cherry Lips to perform. We're excited to show everyone what we've got. We're going to blow the roof of this place." She grinned, confident and self-assured.
"Thank you for agreeing," I said. "I know we can't pay because it's a charity event."
She shook her head. "No, I'm more than happy to help out. Me and my brother used to hang out at The Impact Youth Center all the time when we were kids. That's how we got started with our band."
"And are you helping run the event, too?" the guy next to Cerise asked Katherine. He scanned her up and down slowly, a teasing look slowly crossing his face. "I'd be more than happy to show you what I've got."
"Um." Katherine flushed, staring at him in an almost swoon.
"Shut up, Nate," Cerise said with an annoyed purse of her lips. "Ignore him," she told us. "Nathan flirts with everything that moves."
I eyed him warily. I didn't need any more flirty, cocky rock stars in my life.
"Here." I held out a pile of folders to Cerise. "Can you hand these out to everyone in your band? It's got schedules, maps, things like that."
She took them with a nod of thanks.
"Com
e on, Kat." I pulled her away. She stumbled a few paces before righting herself. "I thought Darkest Days was your favorite?" I asked.
She flushed and didn't say anything.
Next on the list were the kids from the youth center. I knew they were going to be backstage, practicing before their performance. I found the kids huddled in a circle, worry on their faces. A tall, barrel-chested man stood with them. He had his hand on Micah's shoulder.
"That's the drummer of Feral Silence," Katherine murmured to me. It really did help to have a fan on my side.
"You guys aren't nervous are you?" I asked with a smile as I approached. "You guys are going to rock."
"I hope so," one of the boy guitarists said fervently. I couldn't remember whether this one was Zain or Matthew.
"You will," the tall man said confidently. He held his hand out to me. "Morris," was all he said.
"I'm Faith. You're the one who taught these kids? You should be really proud."
He nodded silently. A man of few words.
"I can't find my drumstick!" Kaylee wailed, searching frantically.
Morris leaned over and pulled out a spare one from a bag near his feet. "I've got more," he told her.
"You guys don't have to worry," I told them. "I've seen you play, remember?" Five small faces looked up at me. "You were amazing. Everyone here is going to love you."
"You think so?" The singer, Anya, said in a small voice.
I put my hand to my mouth and pretended to whisper. "Don't tell them, but I think you guys are better than Darkest Days."
The kids all laughed and giggled.
With some of the tension broken, I handed Morris four folders and asked him to hand them out to his band. He agreed with a silent nod.
I consulted my list to see who was next.
"I think we should go see the sponsors," I told her.
"Um. Faith?" Katherine said.
The worry in her voice made me turn around quickly. "What? What is it?"
"I don't think I can lie and tell Damon you're busy this time, because he's right behind you."
My lungs squeezed. I clutched the pile of folders to my chest.
"Hey." Damon's deep, rich tones came from behind me. "Can we talk?"
I didn't turn to look at him.
"I'm going to go… do something else," Katherine said slowly. The look in her eyes was hopeful as she backed away with haste.
Hard Rock Heat: A Rock Star Romance (Darkest Days Book 5) Page 18
