Page 24 of For Wrath and Redemption
I drag my hands through my hair and start to pace, fury thrumming through my veins. Building in my head until the pressure aches. This isn’t fucking happening.
“That’s real great that you, Torren, and Mabel have discussed this without me,” I spit sarcastically. “Awesome that being dropped from the label and unable to make music together for five fucking years is something you can live with, butIcan’t.” I stop pacing and loom over her, glaring into her gray eyes as she watches me cautiously. “I can’t live with that outcome, Savannah. I won’t.”
Her brows slant, and she takes a deep, steady breath before speaking. Her voice, calm as ever, grates on my nerves. “You’re saying you want to keep Claire Davis, then?”
I close my eyes and grit my teeth.
“No. I don’t want to keep her, but like you said, she’s the best option we’ve got right now.”
Sav’s quiet for a long time. All I can hear are her even, measured breaths. She’s silent for so long that, without realizing it, my inhales and exhales start to mimic hers. When my body has relaxed a bit, she speaks again.
“Do you really think it will help, Jonah? We just want you to be okay. Are you going to be okay?”
Suddenly, I’m grateful for the pause she enforced. I’m not stupid. Iknow it was an intentional tactic to calm me down. She probably thought it would make the conversation more productive. Make me see reason.
She was wrong.
All it did was put me back in control. It made it easier for me to mislead, and just like I’ve been doing for years, I lie to her.
“My mom’s death tripped me up, but I’m okay, Sav. I’m okay. Promise.”
She nods once and forces a smile. “Okay.”
She doesn’t believe me, not quite, but she wants to. Sav wants to see the best in everyone. She thinks that since she clawed her way back from rock bottom, I’m capable of it, too.
That’s her weakness, and I’m a master at exploiting it.
Smoke and mirrorsis what Sav called this arrangement with my new babysitter. An act of deception. If I can keep the upper hand over Claire Davis, I can ride this out. I can play this game. As long as I can control little Ms. Trouble, it will all be fine.
8
CLAIRE
I spendthe last half of the Stockholm concert sequestered in the dressing room with my laptop.
I was told I could watch the show from a VIP tent with everyone else, but I decided against it. I did some Jonah-related work at the start of the show, but now I’ve got to catch up on the MixMosaic rebrand. Conrad did say I didn’t have to work on the campaign now that I’ve been assigned to his son, but I haven’t been removed from the shared drive. There’s no harm in helping. I refuse to let Innovation Media lose this account because Brandt Macy lacks creativity.
I’m eyebrow deep in design plans when the dressing room door opens, and the redheaded woman from the hallway last night comes walking in.
“Oh.” I glance at the clock on my computer. “Is the show over?”
“Almost. They’ve still got encores. I just like to beat the mass exodus.” She smiles and takes a seat in a chair across from me. “I’m Callie. You’re Claire, right?”
“Yeah. Claire Davis.” I return her smile and close my laptop lid. “You’re Torren’s girlfriend?”
She nods and a soft pink blush tints her pale cheeks, the color drawing my attention to a scar on the left side of her face. It’s nearly three inches long, stretching diagonally from just under her eye to the corner of her mouth. I bring my eyes back to hers quickly, careful not to stare, but her tight smile tells me she caught me.
“Sorry,” I say with a wince.
“It’s okay. It’s kind of hard to miss.” Callie gives me a one-shouldered shrug. “I was in a pretty bad car accident. Got these, too.”
She holds her left arm out between us, pointing to several more scars on her forearm, wrist, and hand. Then she reaches up and parts her short red hair, revealing another scar.
“Damn.” The word slips out in a whisper. I immediately feel guilty, but Callie grins.
“Yeah. Damn. Got another on my stomach.”
She pats her abdomen, and I shake my head. I’m at a loss for words. From the looks of it, she’s lucky to be alive. I’m grappling with that realization, understanding just how bad the accident must have been, when I remember a headline from a while back.
