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“That’s rough,” Micah said. “That had to be a huge shock for her.”
“I told her I loved her,” Co
“I understand why you’re pissed,” Gray said carefully. “But Lyric doesn’t strike me as someone who has a lot of trust. In anyone. Can’t say I blame her if all that shit is true. You have to admit, the timing of it would cause a knee-jerk reaction.”
Co
“The question is, who spilled her story to the media?” Nathan asked.
Co
“Want us to find out?” Micah asked a little too eagerly.
Co
Gray lifted an eyebrow and a smile glimmered on his lips.
Co
His friends’ faces broadened into grins. Gray chuckled. “I always knew that, of any of us, when you fell, you’d fall the hardest.”
Co
CHAPTER 32
Lyric stood over the small, plain grave marker that was smudged with dirt and mildew. Weeds had grown over the plot so much that she’d had to shove them aside to even read the inscription.
It was short and to the point. No inspirational quote or little tag like loving mother, beloved sister or friend. Just her mother’s name and the dates of her life. Like she hadn’t mattered or she wasn’t important enough to rate something nicer.
The flowers shook in her hands. So much so that a few of the petals floated to the ground, marking a stark contrast between the dead, brown grass and the vibrant purple of the violets.
They were her mom’s favorite. She’d loved anything purple, but violets were her favorite and they’d grown wild in their yard. Lyric remembered picking them in the spring and her mother’s bright smile when she’d taken the limp flowers from Lyric’s two-fisted grip.
Lyric knelt and carefully arranged the violets in a decorative pattern. In the distance she could hear the sounds of cameras and shouted questions. Kane had done a wonderful job positioning his men to keep back the small crowd of reporters who’d flocked to the small town of Collins, Mississippi, the instant the details of her past had been made public.
Kane stood a short distance away, keeping to the side to afford her as much privacy as possible. Three of his men formed a wide perimeter around the grave and kept diligent watch on the crowd that the rest of the security team controlled.
“I’m making you a promise, Mama. As soon as I settle somewhere and have a home, I’ll make sure you’re moved. There’s nothing for you and me here. You should be somewhere happier. I’ll make sure you have a respectable headstone that celebrates the mother you were and that you died trying to protect me from a monster.”
Tears slid down her cheeks and made a pattern in the dust surrounding the grave. Her sobs caught painfully in her chest and her throat swelled with unbearable grief.
“I’ll bring you flowers. Violets and maybe some purple irises. I know it’s been a long time since we spoke. I spent so many years angry at you for leaving me. I was wrong. So terribly wrong. I wanted you to know that I did it. I became a singer. Just like you always wanted. I got to choose my new name when everything changed after the trial. I chose Lyric for you. As a promise that I’d fulfill your dream for me. I hope you’re proud of me. I haven’t done a lot to make you proud but I’m going to change that. You deserve more from the daughter you died protecting.”
She wiped at her face with the back of her hand and rose to her feet. Kane was there to steady her and he tucked her against him as they walked slowly back to the convoy of SUVs they’d driven from Texas.
She’d given Kane the address of her old house. She didn’t even know if it would still be there. She was torn on whether or not she even wanted to face the place where her mother had died, but some force inside her propelled her. Maybe it was her need for closure, or maybe it was finally time to face her demons.
She knew only that she couldn’t move forward until she’d come to grips with the terrible hurt inside her.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Kane asked as they pulled away from the cemetery.
She nodded, not trusting her voice not to crack if she spoke.
The scenery was a blur as they rolled out of town and turned down a series of dirt roads that led farther into the country.
When they came to a stop, she sat still in her seat, looking out the window at the run-down, overgrown wooden house where her life had irrevocably changed.
It seemed smaller now. Not nearly as menacing as it had when she was a child. She would have sworn it was huge, so large that it swallowed her whole. In reality it was barely larger than a shack. Windows were broken out. Shutters were either missing or barely still hanging. Most of the white paint had long since peeled and chipped away. Boards were missing from the front porch and the lawn obviously hadn’t been maintained since her mother had been murdered.
It was a sad, frail house where ghosts of the past still lingered. Carefully she opened her car door and slipped out into the sun. She shivered slightly as the breeze nipped at her skin. It wasn’t a cold day. In fact, it was a glorious day. South on the cusp of spring. The violets she’d remembered growing wild were scattered among the growth of weeds, little bursts of color against the grass still dead from winter.
But she felt as though she were encased in ice, as though the spring sun hadn’t quite reached her soul.
She stood staring at the shell of a place she’d once lived. Where her most painful memories sprang to life. And she knew she couldn’t go in. That there was no purpose in going in. It was just a house. Just a bunch of wood and nails barely held together. It didn’t have any power over her.
The sound of another engine registered in her consciousness. She dragged her gaze from the house, expecting to have Kane shove her back into the car. It was probably more reporters. They’d been pursued ever since they’d arrived in town.
To her shock, Co
“What the hell are you doing, Lyric?” he demanded as he drew closer. “You shouldn’t go in there alone. You shouldn’t go in there at all.”
She stared numbly at him, alternately so glad to see him and so furious that he was here. She was too tired to summon any sort of reaction and so she just stood there, trying to gather the strength to tell him to go.
“My God, you look like I feel,” he muttered just as he yanked her into his arms.
It didn’t occur to her to push him away. His heat surrounded her, bathing her in a blanket of comfort so sweet that she melted against his chest. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent and savored the feeling of warmth she’d been denied for so long.
He held her so tight it was hard to drag breaths into her lungs. He trembled against her. Shook so hard that she shook too.
Finally he pulled her gently away and he stared down at her with haunted eyes.