So many damn whys. All the questions and none of the answers.
It was hot out there, and the sweat gleamed on my skin as we wrapped up our fourth or fifth song. The crowd was well and truly wired. When he raised his brows at me as if to ask did I want to do another, I said fuck it.
At least, internally, I did.
Externally?
I took ownership of the stage.
Raising my hands over my head, I started to clap to get the beat going and the audience responded. Dad cut a look at me, but I ignored him as I focused on the audience and getting the fever pitch up.
On the fourth beat, I started to sing. Dad was quiet behind me as I went for the pure melody. This was one of the first songs Torched recorded. It commenced as a mini solo for me, but it wasn’t meant to stay that way. Any of us could start it.
We used it on stage whenever we needed to change the mood. Change the focus.
I knew what I was asking for…
Though I damn near stumbled when Dad fell in and started playing the song on his guitar. He didn’t miss a stanza and when we hit the first bridge to the real chorus, Yvette and Aubrey strode out on the stage. Lights flashed. The audience screamed. And when the next lyrics fell from my lips, their voices lifted mine.
It was the three of us and they bracketed me—one on each side as we performed it like we’d been practicing every day. The only real shock was Dad matching us. The song itself was fucking personal. It explored the impact of fame on our personal lives, about being trapped between the demands of life on stage and life at home.
Life with the people we loved.
It was fucking impossible to find that balance, but it never made me stop wanting it. I caught Aubrey’s eye and she grinned as Yvette took the lead on the song. We traded it around easily, the three of us trusted each other. That trust elevated me, buoying me above the pain of betrayal and so much abandonment.
My girls were here and they’d never fucking abandoned me. My next smile burst out of me as I took the lead back then passed it to Aubrey, then it was all three of us. Dad had stopped singing, even though he kept playing, the chords of his guitar a screaming accompaniment to the moments of profound loneliness reflected within the lyrics.
He cut off at the closing outro, leaving the three of us to carry the song to its conclusion. One by one, Yvette and Aubrey fell away until it was only my voice on the last, elongated note that I held for the full thirty seconds then dropped as I fist-pumped.
Tears and sweat poured down my face, but I could survive it.
I had survived it.
The lights cut away from us and I lost my smile, pivoted on one heel and strode off the stage with the girls right behind me. Somewhere, the announcer was introducing the next act. But I made a beeline right for Teddy and his excited face.
Ramsey caught my fist when I would have punched our manager. “Hang on, Siren…”
Lachlan’s fist slammed into Teddy’s face a split-second later.
It wasn’t quite as satisfying as doing it myself, even as Ramsey tugged me against him and ignored the sweat as he hugged me. There were cameras back here and probably press and more.
Teddy stared up at me as he rubbed his jaw dazedly, at least he was, until Jonas stepped between us and blocked him off.
“Torched,” the stage director moved toward us. “You have fifteen, then you’re back out there … ”
Fifteen minutes … I needed the break. The time.
Dad was suddenly there, but rather than let him get close, Lachlan, Jonas, and Aubrey blocked him off. They put themselves between us. There were too many eyes and ears back here.
Then, a screech ripped through backstage, despite the pound of music coming from it. Mom. I knew that sound. She was just there, flying at Dad in a pure fury.
Oh, this wasn’t going to end well.
Especially when the cameras started clicking.
Two
LACHLAN
“For the first time ever, Gibson Crosse and his daughter Kaitlin, from Torched, will be performing together right here for you tonight…”
“What…” Aubrey and Yvette exhaled in the same breath.
“…the fuck,” Jonas finished for them as we all stared out on the stage. Now that my eyes adjusted to the lights out there versus back here, I could see Gibs clearly.
He stood out there on that stage like he owned it, and his attention focused solely on Ace. “How the hell did he get on stage?” Ramsey muttered.
“It’s fucking genius,” someone said from behind us and I cut a glance over my shoulder to the woman with the headset. “We want all the eyes and the attention on this benefit, putting father and daughter on stage for the first time? It’s gonna make a killing.”
Anger flooded my veins as I jerked my gaze back to the stage. They were talking. Her voice didn’t waver or warble. If anything, she gained in strength as she spoke. I curled my hands into fists as she met his challenge with one of her own. She was in no way prepared for the shock of that meeting—on a stage in front of thousands.
She didn’t let an ounce of it show. She was a goddamn professional. The way her voice sounded when they sang together was going to haunt me. Yvette and Aubrey had become statues as they remained laser-focused on the stage.
Torched was supposed to go on next, since they were originally the opening act. So… yeah, time for getting those answers later. As it was, I had to physically restrain myself from stalking out there to at least stand with her and back her up. But she had to do all of this on her own and I hated every damn second.
Listening to her sing with Gibs ripped at my heart. She didn’t close the gap between them. If anything, she held herself firm, standing in her own pool of light. Microphone in hand, she owned the stage. I’d never listened to her sing, alone. I’d heard her stuff with Torched, and obviously, there were definitely solo moments in some of their songs, but…
“Her voice is… ” Ramsey exhaled the words, making me feel every inch of that sigh. Because her voice was something else. The weird part though, was when she first came to the school—all I’d saw was the arrogance and take-no-shit attitude. How much of that had been an act? How much of that had been her putting on a brave face?
There was no mistaking it right now.
“Should you go?” Jonas asked, and it pulled my attention off the stage briefly, where Gibs and Ace segued into an entirely different song. It was one of his older ones, I thought. Why the fuck would he assume she knew his music? Then again, she did seem to know it.
“Not yet,” Aubrey said, her voice stiff, which kind of matched her posture. For once though, her “get-fucked” face was not aimed at me. She glared out on the stage.
“She’ll let us know when she needs us,” Yvette said, her accent feathering over the words but doing nothing to rob her tone of pique. They were both angry. Angry for Ace. Angry at Gibs.
Goddammit, I hated being one of the last to know something. The frost out between Gibs and Ace, we’d always blamed Ace for it. Ace and her mother. That was what Mom said. But more and more, all I could think was the person who didn’t want Ace around was Mom.
Who the fuck hated a kid?
“I can’t get over it,” Jonas said. “I’ve heard her sing alone before, but that’s—haunting.”