Incendiary (16 page)

“The fuck I am!”

He offers his words as a compliment, but they’re the biggest fucking insult ever.

“Once I’m sure Georgie will keep her fucking mouth shut, we’re done. I’m leaving her.”

“It can’t come soon enough. If it’s discovered you two are residing under the same roof, your bond will be revoked and you’ll be sent back to jail. But you don’t care as long as she’s with you.”

With every fiber in me, I hate my father. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of a confirmation or a denial.

“I’ve tried to amend my sins,” he continues.

I attempt to go around him, but he blocks me.

“Your mother knew and she never quite forgave me. She went to her grave holding me responsible for your grief. But Alexia…Stefanie. She was a goddamn abomination. A
lesbian
.” He spits out the word as if it’s dirty. “I beat Stefanie until she couldn’t walk. It didn’t help, so I told Alexia to fix her! What did she do? She insulted Bryn instead. Said
her
children, but especially that goddamn freak, was better than you’d ever be. She called Bryn a silly doormat and swore if she had her way Bryn would leave me and take you.”

He gives me a dull look, not commenting on my gaping mouth, stunned by the extent of his hatred. Steffie’s death had nothing to do with Mom. He killed her because she was gay. She never told me, but it makes sense. That’s why she was never involved with guys and the reason she was afraid of Dad.

He knew.

But I didn’t.

“How could you? She
was
better than me. She…” All the grief I ever felt for her slams me. The only time I’d shed tears for her was on the day of her death, but they fall now. Because of the reason her own father took her life. Because I can only imagine the terror and the betrayal she felt in her last moments.

And because if I hadn’t been around, he never would’ve gotten her on the boat. He baited me and he baited her.

He touches my wet cheeks, and I recoil at the feel of his dirty hands on my skin. Dad feeds on pain, so I pull myself together. If I cry for my sister again, it’ll be away from
him.
I shove him aside and his eyes grow wild.

“Don’t you understand, son! I made Alexia pay and I put Stefanie out of her misery. I did it for you and your mother. Alexia grieves to this day.”

Once again, my father has turned my world upside down, with my future still in his blood-stained hands. “Steffie was your daughter,” I manage, unable to think of a better response.

“Yes, and Kiln and Jaeger are my sons. Unfortunately, they are
her
children, as well. Alexia’s. They were all expendable. I loved you. I
love
you.” He catches his slip-up and retracts it. “But I’ve hated you since that day. You ruined my perfect plan. Just because you were so fucking perfect.
My
son. I almost lost Bryn anyway. She asked you what happened and you told her you killed your sister.”

I did? I remember little else from that day but what I witnessed.

“She knew her boy and I had to tell her the truth.”

“Mom knew what you did to me?”

“No! Not about my threats. If she’d known, she would’ve taken you and left. After we were questioned by police and Steffie’s death was ruled an accident, she still looked at me like I was garbage. You were only supposed to confess to murder if
I
told you to. Bryn hated me for a little while and I had to fix it.”

“Fix it?” I echo incredulously. “There was no fucking fixing murder.” My mother is as culpable as my father—as I am—for the misery he’s put me through. She had the true story and never once gave me a single fucking hint.

“I gave her the choice. I told her I’d turn myself in, but then she’d have to live with destroying our family. I would’ve gone to jail and we no longer would’ve been seen as perfect. I swore if she and I got past Steffie’s death, I’d spend the rest of my life in her debt. It had to be the way it is. Don’t you understand?”

“No, I don’t fucking understand either of you,” I say with bitter laughter. Mom lived another four years after Steffie’s death, long enough to see me catapult to the top of the music world. And she lived with the knowledge of my innocence while I suffered in silent fear of going to jail for murder. It being out in the open between us wouldn’t have changed much. “Get the fuck out of here.”

He purses his lips and swipes his hands over his cheek, like a fucking child instead of an old, crazy motherfucker. “This changes nothing. I still have the photos. I still have…everything.”

I think of my daughter and of Georgie, completely overwhelmed trying to care for Bryn. I went to see the baby, but the moment my gaze fell upon Georgie, my heart split between love and hate, need and want.

“Do you want your daughter to see you as a murderer?”

I kick a table, knocking a lamp and empty candy dish to the floor, shattering both and spraying crystal and porcelain all over the place.

He scrapes his bluntly-cut nails across the stubble on his jaw. Looking me up and down, he curls his lip. “Think about how you feel about me. Do you want your daughter to hate you?”

Fuck him, but he’s not manipulating me like he did Mom. “The truth will out. You can’t—”

“I can. Because I have. And I’ll do even more. Don’t make a move. Think to
‘do the right thing.’
” He uses air quotations. “Follow my lead. My direction. We’ll get these charges dropped. You and Georgiana go your separate ways. She’s done nothing for you, but distract you. I’ll allow some time off from the band, but not too long.”

“I’m not fucking rejoining the band. I was there on your dictates, not because of my music, so fuck you and fuck Phoenix Rising.”

Offering me a last, smug look, he backs out of the room. I stare at the place where he stood. I take a step. And another one. I walk until I’m at the door and in the hallway, planning my father’s death with each decisive move.

A noise halts me and I glance down the hallway but find no lights on at Georgie’s end. She hates the darkness.

With her face in my head, I make my way down the hall to where Steffie slept whenever she visited. I had to suffer fucking Kiln in my fucking room. Jaeger stayed at the cottage on the far edge of our property.

When I open Georgie’s door with the key I never removed from my pocket, a small light in her sitting room greets me. The entire suite is white; hence its name of White Suite. How fucking original in this fucked up version of a place where fairytales are created, according to the impression Mom and Dad wanted to convey. Steffie was a princess, trapped on a horror set.

Why didn’t you tell me, Stefanie
?

The décor hasn’t changed since Steffie. Abby usually claims the suite when she’s here, but I ordered her to find other sleeping quarters, once I decided to get Georgie.

Georgie. Yes, I have to think of her, and not my sister or the role I played in her drowning.

Walking into the bedroom, I halt, disappointed. She’s curled up, asleep. Bryn’s in the baby bed, but Georgie has a blanket tied to a stuffed animal located near the baby’s covered feet. The blanket snakes through the slats and ends in Georgie’s hand. She’s grips that piece of material to her chest.

The past hour has weakened me and left me vulnerable. Georgie is my calm in any storm. I look at her, and the world is right. I hear her voice, and I’m soothed. I touch her, and my joy is endless.

I climb into bed and spoon her, nuzzling her hair. Having her in my arms is bliss. My heaven and my hell. I want to give her what she begged me for, but what the fuck can I do from jail? If I’m prosecuted, I’ll be locked away for a very long time. I’ve already been arrested for fights, weapons, indecent exposure on stage, and drugs.

Even if I take a plea deal, a charge of sexual battery and contributing to the delinquency of a minor, will still have me in prison for the next fifteen or twenty years. There’s absolutely no fucking way I can deny the accusations without denouncing her. Bryn is living proof I made love to Georgie.

“I love you,” I whisper hoarsely.

As furious as I am with her, I love her. That’s why my heart continues to rebel that she betrayed me. My brain wants to reject my belief in her out of sheer stubborn pride.

Besides, she’s
still
under-aged for another four months. Despite
her
accusations, I’m the one charged.

Turning, she sighs, before her muscles tighten, betraying her awakening. I should release her, but I can’t.

“Sloane?” she whispers.

“Don’t talk. Let me hold you. Just for tonight.”

“I dreamed you were with me in the delivery room,” she says softly, ignoring my request. “I went to sleep when Bryn was born. And after I awakened, my room was filled with pink and white roses. We were happy and together and a family. You wanted me and believed me. You wanted Bryn too, and were happy she’d been born.”

I’m furious with both of my parents, but I’ve lived with this almost half my life. My mother’s role shouldn’t surprise me. It just adds another layer of betrayal on top of the mountain already in place.

“You don’t want her.”

Georgie knows exactly how to get to me. I brush aside her hair and kiss the spot behind her ear. “I’m happy she’s here, sweetheart.”

“But you’re going to deny her.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“I’m seventeen. At the age of consent for sex in Texas.”

“That isn’t quite true. You’re still underage. I’m
not
just two or three years older than you. I have
nine
years on you. Texas doesn’t have a close-in-age exception, but I’d have a better defense if I was nineteen or twenty. You were sixteen when we made Bryn, which is even worse.”

Her body relaxes against me, as she falls asleep again, exhausted. I have to talk to my aunt, Abby, to ask if she’d be willing to assist Georgie.

When I turn her onto her back, her swollen tits capture my immediate attention, tempting me to suck them, so round and filled with
milk
. In an instant, my dick is rock hard.

Sidling a glance at her, I think about Dad’s offer to Mom. Steffie. My life. All the people who work so diligently to keep Georgie and I apart. My daughter, who needs someone to protect both her and her mother. Georgie herself. I shake her and she opens her eyes, shooting me an irritated look.

“Do you really want me to stand in front of the world and tell them about you and I? Everything you’ve leaked will be confirmed. My bail will be revoked and I’ll be arrested immediately, held without bond. If you want me to claim our daughter, I will. Otherwise, we fix this and we walk away from each other.”

Her gaze fastens to mine. The adoration in her purple irises ensnare me. I’ve offered to hand over my freedom for her and the baby. My words have just played upon the image she’s created of me in her mind. The man I’ve always wanted to be for her.

“Tell me,” I goad, already knowing her answer, the reason I made the offer.

She purses her lips. “I don’t want you in jail.”

I slide closer to her and take her into my arms, clasping her face between my hands. “I’m going to take good care of you and Bryn, Georgie. You’ll have a house, money, and a security detail, but we can’t be together. This isn’t a fairytale where we all live happily-ever-after. I swear you or she will never want for anything.”

“Except you,” she says softly.

Yes, they’ll be without me, but I’ll be without them. It works both ways. Jesus, this is hard. Fucking is so much easier than this. Loving is hell.

I get to my feet, ignoring how small and alone she looks in the bed and return to my room, with nothing but my lonely thoughts to keep me company.

Abby Mason is at the private fashion show slash charity event. Parnell and I are two tables over, but she’s closer to the podium.

She’s also outstanding in a red couture gown, her hair sleek and elegant. Wondering if Sloane is with her, I search in vain for him. I’ve never seen them together anywhere, not even in photographs.