With a grunt, I drop into a recliner, clutching the ends of the armrests.
The room goes silent while he turns his gaze to his computers and his day trading. He looks like he’s ignoring me, but I know he’s just considering things. Using the moment to calm myself, I close my eyes and lean my head back, breathing deeply.
I feel somewhat more in control when Dad speaks again. “It might be good to have an outlet for all that pent-up rage of yours. The piano isn’t cutting it anymore.”
I bite back my protest. My temper is another thing I can’t stand him pointing out, but as much as I want to deny it, he’s right. It is getting out of control.
He steeples his fingers. “You need to let me handle Jenna and come up with a plan. It’s a delicate matter. You’ll have her, but you need to be patient.”
“Okay,” I agree, even though the restless swoosh in my veins beckons me to push this. But I know the best thing to do is take a backseat and let him handle things. He’ll find a way. He always does. Dad might as well be a ruthless stockbroker or a mafia boss if the piano hadn’t been the first thing to have caught his obsessive attention. He’ll get her. I just have to be patient. If I can.
8
The Smiles
Killian
Age seven
“Your dad is scary,” Jenna says, and I follow her eyes to look behind me where Dad stands with his arms crossed, my Spider-Man bag hanging from one hand. He doesn’t smile—he only does at home—but the approving nod he gives me is just as good as one of his bright smiles when he comes back from tour and sees me.
“He’s the best,” I say, then remember what he brought home for me this time. I’ve been looking forward to showing it to Jenna since Friday night. I dig into my pants pocket and fish out the keychain with a purple rubber kitten wearing a headset. “He just came back from tour and brought me this. Isn’t it cute?”
I hold it in my open palm for Jenna to see.
“So cute,” she agrees, eyes widening with awe, just like I thought they would. It makes me smile.
“Do you want it?” I hold it out to her. “I have a second one at home. It’s a blue puppy.”
“Really?” She lifts her gaze to me, eyes still wide and happy.
“Yeah. It’s yours.” I grab her hand and slip the kitten into it. “This one’s listening to Schubert—the piece you’re working on. Mine is listening to Chopin—the one Dad is teaching me.”
She opens her palm and watches it, biting her lower lip as she makes this happy little wriggle with her shoulders. When she looks at me again, I lean in and pop a small kiss on her lips. Her cheeks turn red, and she draws her shoulders up excitedly, watching me the same way she did the kitten.
I glance back at Dad, who’s now smiling as well—the type he only shows at home. A warm feeling blooms in my chest.I just made my two favorite people smile.
9
The Punishment
Jenna
I’m exhausted when Ian opens the door for me the next evening. I’ve only slept a few hours, and after a long day at work, riddled with flashbacks and anxiety, all I want is to go home and sleep. But I’m determined to do this. Whatever it takes.
“Come in, Jenna,” he says when I hesitate outside the door, memories flashing as I stare into the entryway, remembering how he saw my shameful flight from his house that night.
The moment I step inside, more memories come crashing, and anxiety slithers along my nerves. I keep glancing around while I step out of my shoes and hang my jacket, expecting Killian to come out and jump me at any moment.
“You look nervous,” Ian says, placing a hand at the small of my back to guide me down the hall.
I stiffen at his touch, wishing I hadn’t come—wishing this cold, arrogant man wasn’t my only shot at getting back on track.
“Killian is not here today,” he says, opening the door to the music room. “You don’t have to worry about him.”
Surprised, I glance at him as I take a seat on the padded bench.
Instead of stepping close and demanding that I play while breathing down my neck, he remains at the door. “Take your time warming up. I’ll be back in half an hour.” Then he leaves.