by Aly Stiles
And scream.
And cry.
I’m the reason she hides in the dark because I have no clue how to draw her out of a world I’ve been living in since I was a kid myself.
My phone buzzes, and I glance down through a bite of my sandwich at a text from Mason.
How’s the first day going? You have a band name yet?
I set my half-eaten sandwich on the wrapper and wipe my fingers on a napkin.
Not yet. Rehearsal’s going pretty good, though, I type back.
It’s not entirely a lie since comments like that are relative and meaningless anyway.
We could really have something, I add. If I didn’t keep screwing everything up.
I leave that last part off. Mason knows about Naomi. Hell, his advice and listening ear over this past month have been a big part of what’s kept me afloat. He’s already gone above and beyond for someone he should hate after what my former band did to him. I’m not about to let on that his efforts could all be for nothing.
Because the day isn’t over yet. Maybe there’s still something to salvage, even if it’s only a few more smiles for that girl before I screw it up again. I glance over at the small circle of women and draw in a deep breath.
Pushing myself up from the couch, I cross to the high-top table where they’re seated.
“Hey, Julian,” Viv says. Her smile seems sincere, and I have to say, I like her more and more. She always seemed down-to-earth considering her status and the level of success she enjoyed in her previous life. But after today, after seeing how hard she works and how much she pours into her music and those around her, my previous reservations about her have eased. I almost feel bad for my doubts.
Hadley, on the other hand—as advertised. It’s like she’s purposely avoiding me as I hover beside her.
“Hey,” I say to Viv, then focus on Naomi. “You get enough to eat? I haven’t touched my chips if you want them.”
Naomi rolls her eyes and lifts her own bag she’s actively snacking on. I swallow and force a smile. “Right. Okay. Well, if you’re still hungry when you finish that, let me know.”
“Whatever. Bye, Uncle J,” she quips, shooing me from the table.
I wince at the blatant rejection, not sure what else to do but nod to the others and push back from the table. If they didn’t know I was a crappy guardian before, they sure as hell do now.
I feel Hadley’s stare in my back as I walk away, and it’s everything I can do to keep my shoulders square and maintain a confident gait. She can’t know I’m hurt. No one can, especially Naomi. I can only imagine what Naomi’s told her. Hadley must really despise me now.
I drop back to the couch and crack open a water bottle, no longer hungry. Laughter filters toward me again, and I try to ignore its effects as I review a lyric that’s been haunting me lately.
“Please stay. I need you for the better days.”
I don’t even know what it means. I woke up with those words in my brain, like a song from a dream I can’t remember. There’s more to it, I feel the rest, but can’t touch it.
Commotion at the entrance of the room draws our attention, and I turn to see a tall, ripped gladiator of a dude standing in the doorway and scanning our group.
“Oliver? Oh my gosh!” Viv cries, jumping up from her seat. She rushes to the guy and throws her arms around him. He grins in a way that makes me feel guilty for watching. Must be the hockey player boyfriend. I focus back on my sandwich.
“So, what did they say?” Viv asks him.
“I’m cleared to skate. Monday I take the ice.”
Viv shrieks, transforming into an entirely different person than she was five minutes ago. Light and happy in a way I’ve never seen. I sneak another glance, half-expecting her to be wearing different clothes and have a new face as well. Is that what love does? Transforms dark into light?
My gaze crosses to Naomi.
What does the absence of love do?
I’m surprised to see an open and awed expression on my niece’s face while she studies the couple in the doorway. For someone who works so hard to display her cynicism as heavily and literally as she does, she sure looks intrigued by the opposite.
Ashley loved her daughter. If she was half the mom she was a sister, I have no doubt that girl’s first ten years were an entirely different story than the nightmare of this past one. What would it be like to have love sucked away and replaced with… me?
I pull in a heavy breath and tear my gaze away before it does more damage. Except, it gets caught on another girl. This one is older, stronger, but just as cynical as our eyes collide in a silent standoff.
Hadley’s blond hair is pulled back in a twist, her blue eyes practically glowing from a clear, makeup-free face. Striking cheekbones naturally contour her features in a way I never noticed before. She could be drop-dead gorgeous if she didn’t seem to go out of her way to avoid exactly that. It’s like she wants to hide, to disappear in the shadow of her employer.
Her bright blue eyes fire darts at me.
Caught, I force my gaze to the TV on the wall behind her as if my interest was always in whatever boring movie is playing. Damn, why does she have to be so freaking hot and how did I not notice it before?
Because she clearly didn’t want you to.
She’d probably punch me for even thinking that.
“We’ll be back!” Viv assures us, clinging to her boyfriend as they move from the room. I smirk and shake my head at the obvious hookup about to go down. Good for them. At least one of us isn’t miserable today.
Naomi is staring after them in awe when I check on her again. Hadley is still glaring at me.
I have nothing left by the time we wrap our first rehearsal and head home. With her Genevieve Fox Dream Date over, Naomi is back to sulky and silent. I try to make conversation a few times, but give up when my attempts seem to transform her sulking into hostility. I have no energy for a fight. For anything, really, and I look forward to a couple rigorous hours in our apartment community gym to burn off some frustration and anxiety.
I’m cleaning up the dinner dishes when Naomi’s phone buzzes on the counter.
Wanna meet up tonight?
I stare at the text on her screen, a chill rushing down my spine.
Who the fuck is “Danny P” and why is he asking to meet up with my eleven-year-old niece late at night? After the day I’ve had, I have no patience for predators and swipe her phone from the countertop. Another message lights up her lock screen.
Hey sweet girl. Where u at?
“The bathroom, you fucker,” I growl.
I glare at the messages as if my rage will somehow travel through the phone and disintegrate this bastard. I never should have gotten her a phone, it’s just, I don’t know. She begged me, and I naively thought giving her what she wanted would somehow improve our relationship.
Besides, it seemed like having a way to communicate with her when we were apart was a responsible parent thing. I found an article in my “parenting preteens” research that said the average age of kids getting phones was even younger, so figured maybe she had a point.
I didn’t consider the Danny P’s of this world as seriously as I should have.
Naomi returns to the kitchen and freezes when she finds me holding her phone. We’ve been at a frosty stalemate since dinner, and I see the moment she realizes she screwed up by leaving it behind. Thank god she did.
“Who is Danny P?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice steady. Inside, my brain is exploding, my blood firing hot and shooting my fist into a rock at my side.
“Just a friend,” she says, but I can tell by the way her eyes shift, she knows it’s not a friend I’d approve of.
“From school?”
She shrugs again, and my fist trembles.
“Is he a boy from your school, Naomi?” I seethe out.
“What does it even matter?” she snaps back, reaching for her phone. “Since when do you even care?”
I step away and
shove it behind me.
“No way you’re getting this back. Why does he want to meet up, and why the hell is he calling you sweet girl?”
Tears spring to her eyes as they bore into me. She’s trying so hard to maintain her angry façade through her fear. “He’s no one! Just some guy! Yes, he goes to my school.”
“You’re lying,” I fire back.
“I’m not!”
“Yeah? Then how about we call him? He wants to meet up? He can come here and we’ll meet up as a family. How’s that sound?”
Her eyes widen in horror, and I know, I just know this dude is a creep I will murder if he so much as comes near my niece. How can she not see that? How could she be so stupid?
“Give me my phone back, Uncle J!” she shouts, charging forward, hands outstretched.
“Not a chance.”
“It’s mine!”
“Yeah? Do you pay for it?”
“I hate you!”
“Join the club. But you’re not getting this back until I understand exactly who this Danny P is and make sure he never contacts you again.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Watch me.”
“You’re not my father!”
“No, thank god.” The words slip out before I can stop them. We both freeze. I didn’t even mean it like that. I just meant because I… fuck! Her eyes well as she steps back, shaking. “Naomi… that’s not what I meant… I…”
She shakes her head, tears slipping from her big green eyes. “I hate you, Uncle Julian. I hate you so much I wish you were dead!” she shouts, storming off.
I flinch through the sting, trying to make sense of what just happened. What needs to happen next. God, why does every damn thing have to be so hard?
“Naomi!”
She runs down the hall, slamming her door in my face.
Shit! “Naomi, that’s not what I meant,” I call through the door. “Naomi!” I pound on the wood when I hear the scrape of furniture on the other side. “Don’t you dare blockade this door!”
I hit harder, tugging at the handle when she doesn’t respond. I throw my weight against the barricade, but it doesn’t budge. Dammit, should have removed the locks when she moved in. “Naomi!”
Music blares to life behind the wall. It must be as loud as those speakers go. Wild drums and wailing guitars. Incoherent screaming from the lead singer who clearly hates the world as much as the two of us do right now.
I bang on the door again, shouting to her for several more seconds, seriously considering trying to kick it down. In fact…
“Naomi!”
When she still doesn’t answer, I back up and smash the sole of my shoe against the wood. Damn that hurt. I’m about to try it again anyway, when a different kind of knock trickles down the hall.
My gaze snaps to the front door, and I curse again. Not now. Please not now. But the knock thumps out harder, and somehow I know she’s not going to give up.
Throwing up my hands, I limp down the hall toward the door and yank it open.
Hadley. Of course she came here to yell at me over the noise.
“I know, okay?” I hiss at her. “You can keep your fucking opinions to yourself. Buy headphones. Download a white noise app. Or—I don’t know—how about you go live at your boss’ castle for a while. I’m sure she’s got a secluded wing or two that would make any cranky old-timer happy. Sound good?”
Her eyes, wide with shock at my outburst, suddenly narrow fiercely. “You are a certifiable asshole, Julian Campbell. You know that?”
I shrug through the fresh burn of her words. “Yeah, I get that, believe me. We done here? If you don’t mind, I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
“She just wants you to see her,” Hadley snaps back. “If you weren’t so self-absorbed, maybe you’d get that too.” She spins away and marches back down the hall.
I slam the door shut, breathing hard. Collapsing against it, I sink to the floor and struggle to control my spiraling universe. Rage, failure, and now a physical pain shooting up my shin all swirl in a suffocating cloud around and through me. I’m a shadow, particles trying to breathe and function in a world I’m not equipped to navigate, let alone direct.
I pull in air at a frantic clip, my head getting light and my arms tingling. The music shrieks from down the hall, Naomi’s phone still heavy in my hand. I glare down at the text that started it all, suddenly overcome with violence.
I punch in the passcode I set up, praying she wasn’t smart enough to change it. She wasn’t, and I open the chat stream.
Scrolling through text after text, I finally land on a photo of the dude. Just as I suspected he’s at least five years older, maybe more. Yeah, fuck this. I go back through the phone, screenshotting anything I can find that might be borderline actionable, but unfortunately (and maybe fortunately) this dude is careful. Nothing sexual. Nothing I could bring to police—yet. What if I hadn’t seen that text?
My body goes cold, my anger transforming into something darker. It takes hold of my soul, and despite our endless blowups and shared angst, a protectiveness for that little girl steels through every inch of my being. I reopen the chat and type back.
I’m here. Where you wanna meet up?
Bubbles immediately appear beneath my message, and sure enough, an address pops up a second later.
See you soon, I type back.
CHAPTER 4
HADLEY
My heart pounds as I stomp back to my apartment and slam my door. Bone-rattling beats still shake my walls from upstairs, but somehow knowing they belong to a troubled girl and not an inconsiderate ex-rockstar doesn’t make it better.
Worse, actually. Yeah, so much worse.
In one conversation I could tell that girl was hurting. If Julian can’t clue in to the obvious while living with her, he’s an even bigger ego-centric idiot than I thought.
His snarky retort grates through my head as I fill the kettle and prepare for a loud night alone. I hadn’t even gone up there to complain. I was worried about Naomi. And fine, maybe a little about him as well. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, I haven’t been able to drop that image of him defeated and desperate in the hallway of the studio. For a brief moment I thought I saw something, something broken no one was supposed to see, and the fixer in me engaged with disturbing force. Obviously, I’d misread that.
He’s not your problem, Hadley.
He’s not. Viv is my employer, my focus. Her problems are my problems, and I’ve been so successful in my position because of my ability to compartmentalize my role as her assistant and my role as her friend. Heck, it’s the reason we decided long ago that our arrangement would work best if I had my own place where I could have my own identity separate from her world. I’m good at separating people from their issues, so why can’t I let go of the annoying drama-king upstairs?
Because of Naomi.
Maybe. My heart broke for her today. We didn’t talk much, at least not with any substance, but it was evident in every little thing she did—and didn’t—say that there’s a deep, painful history behind her presence in her uncle’s life. Too bad her welfare depends on a guy who doesn’t seem to give two you-know-whats about her.
I glare at the kettle, barely moving as I stare at my distorted reflection in the shiny stainless steel. A knock at the door breaks my staring contest with myself, and I spin around in surprise. It’s late for unexpected visitors, and after the stress of today, I’m ready for bed. This was supposed to be my pre-bed chamomile fix to help me relax enough to sleep. Not that I would’ve been able to do so with the thumping upstairs.
Grunting, I stalk toward the entrance and peek through the peephole. What? No way. I yank open the door, glaring with a fire that rivals anything I just threw at my hot water kettle.
“What do you want?” I hiss at Julian who looks just as angry about being here.
“I need you to stay with Naomi for an hour. I have to run out.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s after nine.”
“I know. Come on, Hadley, please.”
“Where do you have to go that’s so important you’re going to abandon your kid at night?”
His jaw clenches, and I see the retort lashing at his lips. I don’t know why he decides to hold it back now. He blinks, his expressive dark eyes hot and frantic in the silence. Finally, his chest fills with a deep breath and he takes a step back. “You know what? You’re right. She’ll be fine on her own for a little bit.”
He starts down the hall, and I stare after him in shock.
“What? You can’t just leave her alone late at night!”
“It’s not that late. And believe me, that kid has spent many nights alone,” he mutters.
I don’t know what he means by that, but my anger is long past patience. “Julian, don’t you dare leave that girl alone!”
He shakes his head, not even turning around. Is he serious? He’s seriously going to walk out on her!
“Julian!”
Grr. You have to be kidding me. “Fine! Just… give me a second to get my stuff.”
He stops and turns back. I expect a smug look, but he surprises me again with a flash of relief through the dark fury on his face.
“Thanks. I just need an hour.” His eyes plead some cryptic message before he takes off down the hall. “Door’s unlocked to my place. Lock it when you get inside.”
I still don’t understand what just happened as I watch him disappear around the corner to the stairwell. He’s not even waiting for the elevator, which means whatever this mission is, he’s a man possessed. Probably something stupid like an emergency beer run. Maybe he ran out of tight undershirts.
Still, I committed, and that girl needs me. I rush back into my apartment, turn off the kettle, and grab my phone, keys, and sneakers.
