Page 171 of Broken Lines

“You did, Jack.”

She rolls her eyes and shifts her gaze around the twelve-foot ceiling in the luxurious Central Park townhouse

“Jackson,come on. I mean, I know what you did.”

I clear my throat, playing dumb.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Please, Jack. I loved Iggy to death. But the man knew nothing about paperwork or money or banks or contracts or anything like that.”

“What, and I did?”

“Jackson, there are squirrels in the park across the street that know more about contracts and financial responsibility than Iggy ever did. I know you had to basically force him under duress to put his own fucking name on the writing credits to the songs you two wrote together.”

I smile, shaking my head.

“Goddamn was he a stubborn prick about that.”

“Wonder where he learned that?”

I grin. Alice eyes me over the rim of her tea.

“But I know what you did. Or rather, I know it wasn't Iggy who did it.”

I lift a shoulder.

“No idea what you're talking—”

“You put Eleanor’s name on the songwriting credits to every Velvet Guillotine song.”

I try and hold it back, but the grin creeps over my face anyway.

“Jackson, I was already going to collect as is. I mean Iamthe executor of Iggy’s estate.”

“Yeah, well,” I shrug. “I wanted to make sure Eleanor would, too. She's my goddaughter, after all. I figured if I was going to disappear for, well, forever, this would make up for all the birthdays where she wouldn’t get cool shit from me.”

Alice blinks back tears as she puts a hand on my arm.

“Thank you,” she whispers hoarsely.

“Iggy would have wanted her name on them.”

She smiles sadly, patting my arm. “I know.”

“How is she, by the way?”

“Your goddaughter? Great. Big.” She rolls her eyes. “You know she’s twelve now.”

“Fucking Christ, she’stwelve?”

“Time flies when you drop off the face of the earth, huh?”

“No shit.”

I glance around, frowning.

“When is she getting home?”