Page 601 of Rock Me All Night
I swallow hard. I have to find out. "My dad is an alcoholic. He went to rehab last year, but there's no telling if he's really sober. He's high-functioning. He's good at hiding. My whole family, we're great at hiding things."
His voice is steady. "His whole life or after your mom left?"
I nod. "It got worse when Mom left. He'd fall asleep drunk on the couch. He'd miss work."
He rubs my shoulder. It puts me at ease. My self-preservation instincts don't kick in.
I stare back at him. "When it started, I was a kid, and I didn't know better. But after a while, I could tell he had a problem. I knew I had to do something or he'd drink himself to death, but I didn't. I lied for him a million times. I lied to teachers, to my aunt. I even lied to Madison, so she wouldn't know how bad it was."
"He's not your responsibility. He's an adult."
"Maybe when I was a kid. But, by high school, I was old enough to know better. Madison is the one who got him help. I don't know if I'd have ever stopped lying. I woke up one morning to him passed out in a pool of vomit. Madison had already called 911. They said he was a few minutes from dying. Would have been my fault."
"It wouldn't have been your fault, Jess. You can't fix someone else. No matter how badly you want to."
"Yeah." I press my fingers against Pete's cheeks. It does something to me, his skin against my hands. It makes me feel safe. Like I can take the pressure of this. "I'm sure it's nothing compared to your father hitting you."
"You can't win at having a fucked up childhood." He slides his hands to my waist. "Don't make it a competition."
"You're mature for a guy who became famous at 19."
"I know." He slides his hand into my hair and pulls me into a tight hug.
My body floods with relief. It feels good getting this off my chest.
There's no running from my feelings this time. I'm falling hard and fast. There's no way to avoid it.
I whisper in his ear. "I lied so much, Pete. I thought it was for the best, that I was protecting my family. But all it did was make him sicker and grind me to nothing. I barely know who I am now, what I want. That's why I had to leave New York. So I could figure it out."
"Have you?"
"Getting there." I press my hands together. "But… I don't think he's doing well. He keeps dodging my calls. The way Dad lies… I won't know what it is that's wrong until the doctor calls me to tell me he's gone."
"Come here." He pulls me closer, his chin nestling into the crook of my shoulder.
My eyelids press together. I squeeze him tightly, then I release everything. When a sob rises up in my throat, I do nothing to choke it back.
Within moments, I can't keep my eyes closed. I'm crying. Ugly crying. Instead of wiping my eyes, I dig my fingers into his t-shirt.
"Hey." He slides his hand to my cheek and wipes a tear with his thumb. "It's okay, Jess. You're gonna be okay."
"You promise?"
He nods. "It's not your fault. But I know it feels like that sometimes."
I choke back another sob. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't unload on you like this."
"You walk around like you're carrying the world on your shoulders."
"No." I press my lips together. He has a point. "Maybe."
"Maybe just North America?"
I laugh. He's the only person who could make me laugh at a time like this.
My heart flutters. I let my eyes close. I let my muscles relax as I sink into him. "I'm sorry."
"What for?"
