Page 94 of The Lost Melody

The last bit is a little shrill, and I shudder trying to dial it back.

“Greg, is there anything you can offer as proof?” I ask, deciding to try a different approach.

He nods, pulling out his phone. Pushing it across the table, he says, “Carrie was picked up on the airport security cameras here trying to board a flight out of the country a month ago. Do you reckon that dead women fly, James?”

My father picks up the phone, zooming in on her. “You have her hair,” he accuses and I roll my eyes. “It was lavender before, wasn’t it? Why did you change it? This woman is pure evil, and you’re her spitting image. Fuck, she really is alive. Why are you fucking with me?”

I pull off the kids gloves, silently asking for forgiveness from the guys. I hate talking about this. “Why do you think I would have the energy or be inclined to fuck with you? I was drugged and taken after one of my performances roughly three months ago. My mother tampered with my favorite candy, knowing that I would eat them after my performance. She knew this because she was stalking me. My hair is this color now becausethisis the color the men who bought and raped me wanted, because they wanted to fuck a famous rockstar,” I snarl.

“I am not, and never have been crazy. The news was fed garbage and lies, because very dangerous men wanted to keep me at their mercy. I don’t want a goddamn thing from you except an answer to a simple question. Where do my grandparents live in Connecticut?”

James is having a hard time processing the information I’m throwing at him, and is breathing shallowly. “You were kidding about the heart thing, right Uncle Jordan?” I ask worriedly.

Jordan walks over and slaps him hard over the head. “He glitches sometimes,” he mutters.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Jordan,” my father says, rubbing the back of his head. “I have no way to corroborate any of that information, but the anger and tears in your eyes, Lennon, make me think it may be true. You used to cry when you were really fucking mad when you were little.”

I huff in frustration, because he doesn’t get to have warm and fuzzy memories about me when he told me I was crazy.

“Whatever, as I said I want one thing from you, and then I never want to speak to you again. When your other daughter talks about you, I’ll grin and bear it because she thinks you’re a decent human being, but you’re just a deadbeat, good for nothing, sperm donor. That’s all you’ll be to me. Now answer my question,” I demand, brushing away the tears leaking from my eyes.

“Are you the reason I’m in jail right now?” James asks, purposefully ignoring me. “I don’t have any outstanding parking tickets, and I haven’t missed a court date. So how the hell did this happen?”

Roark puts his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it to remind me he’s there.

James scowls. “Maybe I should have taken you with me when I left, then you wouldn’t be a whore. Layla is a good girl, filled with decent morals,” he continues.

Turner growls on the other side of me, and I can see that he’s grinding his molars.

“Sir, you’re in a room with three people who will not hesitate to torture you for the information that you have in your tiny brain,” Orion says, taking control of this run away conversation. “I suggest you stop insulting my Lennon, and get on with giving her the information she’s asking for.”

James blinks at him, and Jordan thumps him on the head just in case. I giggle, because this entire situation is crazy. It’s a poor excuse for a laugh, because I’m still crying, but it’s something.

“Fuck,” my father hisses and I shrug at him when he looks over at me. “Am I going to be released if I tell you?”

“I don’t really feel as if you deserve it,” Jordan says, sounding very fatherly. He is the older brother, so it makes sense. “I’m ashamed of you, and I have half a mind to let you sit here for a few weeks until they figure out that the charges are false.”

“Fuck, are you really doing that computer thing again? You used to fuck with me all of the time,” James groans.

Shrugging, I tell them, “This is cute and all, but as you can see, I’m not responsible for your release. I want an answer, James.”

“Wow, from Dad to James so quickly,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Carrie’s parents live in Titus, Connecticut, and are probably older than dirt if they’re still alive. When I left Carrie and you, I cut everything and everyone out of my life from that period.”

“Great, now I get to do things I actually want to do,” I cheer, scraping the chair across the floor as I stand up. “Uncle Jordan, make him stay here for at least another day or two before you cut him loose, please.”

Jordan groans. “You’re so much nicer than I am,” he complains. “I wanted to add more charges, maybe get him strip searched again.”

“Fuck, they shoved their fingers up my asshole,” James yells at his brother and I roll my lips inwards to hide my smile.

None of this matters anymore. “Can we go shopping now?” I ask Greg with a smile as he raps his knuckles on the door so they’ll let us out.

Ignoring James, who is back to calling me a whore, Greg nods. “I’ll have someone go check out our new lead, and we’ll all fly back together. Now, let’s go before the guys decide to beat the shit out of your father. There’s only so many bruises I can cover up for,” he chuckles.

Smiling back, I nod at the officer who opens the door. “We’re done, thanks,” I tell him, slipping out with the guys around me. Roark places his hand in mind, and I squeeze it, showing him I’m as fine as I can be.

We can’t choose our parents, but we can leave behind the things that aren’t good for us so we can choose to embrace joy.

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