Page 16 of Fame And Secrets
Chapter Six
Julian
That asshole got what he wanted.
He’d gotten into my head and turned me into someone I didn’t recognize. I heard her pacing at the foot of the stairs. I purposely stood back, releasing the door handle every time and bracing myself against the wall until she walked away.
Phoebe and I never had a problem talking or being comfortable with each other before. Awkwardness had no place in our lives, and I hated the bastard for placing seeds of doubt in her mind. Phoebe was my solace…not my discord. I’d make him pay for what he’d done to us. I refused to bring my child into a world with that man still in it.
I closed the last side of the suitcase and sat down on the bed, a sick feeling in my stomach. Damn this tour. Moments earlier, I’d toyed with the idea of calling the record label and refusing to leave. What could they do, fire me?
I shook my head at my own absurdity. Of course they could fire me. They could drop my contract, sending us all straight back into obscurity. Then what would I do? Go work at some bar again? Sling drinks, barely making enough money for diapers? Hell no. Phoebe and the baby deserved the life I could give them now—with this job—with this status.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Throbbing on either side of my head had my temples too tender to touch. What the fuck happened downstairs? That wasn’t me, and it sure as hell wasn’t what Phoebe deserved. Thinking about that dead girl left me feeling powerless.
Phoebe had been there at the wrong time. I wanted to make love to her, but not like that. That was a primal need to control and dominate. My lack of self-control scared me.
Glancing at the alarm clock, I realized I’d been hiding in our bedroom over an hour like some fucking toddler. I pushed off the wall and turned the knob. Ryker would be here any minute. She needed to know what I’d done before she went ballistic. Not that I’d blame her. I’d truly outdone myself in the dick department with this one.
Hearing my phone ring, I slammed the bedroom door behind me and took the stairs four at a time. “Son of a bitch.” My steps faltered as I collided with a small, round frame with piercing blue eyes.
She leaned against the bottom of the staircase, her face streaked. My hand centered at my chest, attempting to stop the jagged cut her eyes tore down the center. Risking a step toward her, she surprised me when she didn’t flinch or back up. Eyes downcast, I tried to move around her.
Phoebe shifted her left leg, effectively blocking me. “You aren’t going anywhere until you talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Don’t feed me bullshit, Bale. You asked me to trust you. I do, but we’re walking on eggshells around here and I can’t take it. What happened? I mean, wasn’t that you with me downstairs an hour ago?”
I sighed in honesty. “I don’t know who that was, Phoebe.”
“Really? I’m pretty sure he’s the person who asked me to marry him.”
A sadistic chuckle escaped before I could reel it back in. “The guy who fucked you wasn’t me.” Immediately, I regretted the words as her face registered the verbal slap. “Shit, Phoebe, I…”
“No, I think you’ve said enough.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I came to tell you Ryker called. He should arrive shortly to babysit me and requested to talk to you in private. You know, super-secret bro code and shit.”
“I’m sorry.” The pressure in my chest increased as I watched the corners of her mouth turn down into a tired arch.
“I’ll leave you and your brother to talk about me. Let me know when the zip ties and ball gag arrive.” She started down the hallway, the sunlight from the window silhouetting her swollen body. Instinctively, I grabbed her arm, and she glanced down at my hold.
“Let me go.”
“No.”
Jerking her arm away, she catapulted herself into my chest, eyes blazing. “Just what the fuck do you want from me? I beg you to talk to me, and you push me away. Then when I do as you ask and leave you alone, you stop me. Make up your goddamn mind, because I’m a hormonal, bloated, pregnant woman who can’t see her feet anymore. Do you know how frustrating it is to not be able to tie your own shoes? Do you? And I waddle. I fucking waddle, Julian. Do you think that’s fun? And nothing fits—nothing! I’m a waddling, shoeless blimp, and my ass is so huge I could rent it out for advertising…and—what? Are you laughing at me?”
The way her voice quivered and bellowed at the same time—in some warped way it made me feel better. It made me feel normal. “No, I’m not laughing at you.”
Her eyes narrowed into blue slits. “Yes, you are. Don’t lie to me.”
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Laughter crawled up my chest and exploded. Tears pooled in my eyes and I lifted a hand to wipe them away when I felt a punch to my chest.
“I hate you. You’re an asshole.”