Despair rushed out with the words, and she choked over a sob.
Deep gashes of pain that pierced her.
“It makes me sick to be this person, but I don’t know how to stop this feelin’. This feeling that makes me want to wrap that little girl up and run away. Hide her away forever.”
Hitched, pleading cries ripped up her throat.
This girl breaking apart.
No walls left to hide behind.
Revealing it all.
I wrapped her tighter, wishing I could do the same, and I pulled her to straddle me where I was sitting up on her bed. I kept brushing back her hair that was matted and tangled, the fine wisps sticking to her cheeks.
“You aren’t a horrible person, Violet. Not even close, baby. You are everything. Everything. You are a good mother who is just trying to protect her child. What you’re feeling is instinct. There’s not a thing wrong with that.”
“What if she takes her, Richard? What if the investigator finds her and Lily comes back and she takes her away? What do I do then? How will I survive?”
Her heartbreak cracked through the room.
A violent explosion that banged against the walls.
She hiccupped and struggled to get closer. “How could I ever let her go?”
Problem was, I couldn’t give her an answer.
Couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen.
“No matter what happens, I’m here. With you. You aren’t alone. You aren’t alone,” I murmured, desperate for a way to make it better. To take away her pain.
But that was the problem.
I was helpless.
Fuckin’ helpless.
Especially considering I was the one responsible for it in the first place.Thirty-OneRichardSix Years AgoThe sedan came to a stop in the huge circular drive that was surrounded by a rambling, manicured lawn. Flowered hedges outlined the sidewalks and a waterfall shot toward the haze of city sky before it spilled back down to splash into the reservoir. The entire property was surrounded by an imposing brick wall, trees growing even higher above the towering walls to provide privacy where the residence sat in the middle of the bustling city.
A man dressed in uniform opened the back door, and Shawn and Richard slipped out to the muted thrum of music echoing through the thick walls of the grand estate.
The man dipped his head in a curt nod. “Enjoy, gentlemen.”
Shawn howled and clapped him on the back. “Oh, I’m sure that we will.”
Martin Jennings climbed out of the front seat and adjusted his suit jacket before he waved an indulgent hand toward the entrance of the extravagant home. “You are our guests of honor tonight. Anything behind those doors is yours. Feel free to indulge. Our parties are invite only, so you can be sure of full discretion by all attendees.”
Disquiet rumbled in the periphery. Somewhere at the edges of Richard’s brain. He hadn’t ever been to a party where a disclaimer was a necessity.
But he was too excited to acknowledge it. This feeling coming over him as they climbed the ten massive steps that led to the double-doors that had to be twenty-feet high.
This was it.
They were being invited into this world.
The Mylton Records world.
Everything they’d been striving for was right there, within their reach.
Their music was good. Really good. But it was going to take a label like Mylton Records backing them to shoot them into the stratosphere.
One side of the double doors opened to the sprawling home, nothing but sky-high ceilings and modern furniture and wealth seeping from the walls. Music blared from the speakers that pulsed a frenetic beat through the entire house.
Place packed.
Wall-to-wall.
Bodies crushed in the space like it was some kind of trendy nightclub rather than a mansion in Beverly Hills which was a mindfuck in itself.
Lights strobed and music blared, and his heart rate ratcheted, trying to take it all in.
Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll.
Sure, he’d seen his fair share of shit out on the road, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen the unmitigated evidence of it quite like then.
Girls half dressed. Sitting on laps. Dancing on tables.
Dudes totally buck and running through the house.
Some in collars. Grinning. Dancing.
Nothing but a freak show.
A tumbler full of glittering amber was shoved into his hand.
Martin Jennings lifted his above his head. “To Carolina George rising to their full, unobstructed potential.”
“Fuck yeah, I will drink to that!” Shawn shouted, and they clinked glasses before they were clinking theirs with his, and Richard was tossing back the alcohol in a bid to settle his nerves that rattled and shook.
A disorder that blew.
The liquid burned a fiery path down his throat and pooled in his stomach. He was quickly given another, and he felt those nerves unfurl into a shaky confidence as he tossed the next one back and followed Martin through the throng. He led them into another room that was just as packed as the last.
Lights cut into a low, dizzying haze, a daze of strobing white and blue lights that thudded over the room. Semi-private sitting areas made up of plush couches were tucked along the edges of the walls and a full bar sat at the far end of the room.