“Yeah,” I respond with a little too much attitude in my voice.Yeah, like he’s stupid for not knowing what he looks like, but in reality, it’s our fault for not showing him a picture.
“Sorry,” I mumble when he looks at me, shock written across his face. “I’m letting the stress get to me, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
He scoots closer, his hands reaching for my shoulders. “Turn around. Let me help you.”
“Hands off. I can do that,” Nash insists, his jealousy rearing its head.
“Family helps relieve stress,” Dare throws back at him, referencing the conversation we had last night. I let them know about the conversation I had with him, leaving out the part where I thought about what it would be like to kiss him.
Although I’m sure Keaton knows about that. He was standing behind us when we turned around. I should’ve expected that he would stay close, always making sure I’m protected like an unofficial guard.
I blushed when I saw him there with his arms crossed, but surprisingly, he didn’t look mad.
“Fine,” Nash mumbles, not happy with it but conceding.
“We didn’t get to circle back yet, but he’s the guy in those videos for Team Tristan.” His hands knead at my tense muscles, but I’m whipping around to grab his phone again.
“What? Let me see.” Grabbing his phone, I find it’s thankfully still unlocked, showing my bestie’s face. Ex-bestie?Fuck. I don’t know what we are to each other right now, but we need to fix that.
At the bottom of the video is a list of hashtags and I click on the stupidTwilightone that will now follow me for the rest of my life.Damn it.
The screen loads a new page with several videos on it using the same hashtag and I scroll, searching for his face again. It doesn’t take me long to find it. His brown hair and green eyes draw me in, staring into the camera with that infuriating smirk that makes me want to slap him.
Where have you been Tristan and why are you making videos instead of playing with us on stage?I glare daggers at the phone for a moment as Darius works at my tense muscles. Then, after taking a deep breath, I click on his handle. Trisluvslexie.
I stare at it until Dare’s phone dims and I have to tap on the screen to keep it from locking. My mind is transported to a time when he had to make a name for some stupid game on his phone. I’m not even sure what it was anymore, but he turned his phone around and asked me what I thought of the user name.
It was the first time he said he loved me. It wasn’t out loud or direct or even really obvious, but it was there, spelled out in his username. Tristan loves Lexie. He’d shown it to me with a lopsided grin and wide, hopeful eyes, waiting for my reaction.
My cheeks heat with the memory of the blush I tried to hide from him. I let my hair fall around my face as I mumbled some kind of approval, but he saw through it. His finger grazed my cheek as he tucked my hair behind my ear and then brushed a kiss in the same spot.
We were thirteen, and it makes my heart pound as quickly now as it did back then.
Clicking on the flash to the past, I find his page filled with videos. They’re labeled with a banner across them. The latest says “Day 9 Groveling Tour”
I’m about to click on it when there’s a strong banging on the door. My gut instantly cramps.
“Whoever that is, don’t let them in,” Darius says, doubling his efforts on my shoulders.
Blake lowers his phone to look at us. “What? Why?”
“Because her shoulders are now twice as tense as they were when I started.” His hands fall as I move on the couch, so we are sitting next to each other instead. I’d go for the door simply to get it over with if I thought my legs could carry me without shaking and giving me up.
“Can we pretend like we aren’t here?” Nash whispers. I’m not sure if he actually knows who it is or if he simply doesn’t want any interruptions on our quiet morning.
Blake looks at Nash and shakes his head, standing and getting the door. The moment it’s open, Dickless steps inside like he owns the place without ever even being invited in. “Leave. I need to speak with my niece alone.”
Nobody moves. Not to follow his instructions at least. Blake finds his seat again and pushes his glasses up his nose. Keaton stands behind him with his arms crossed. And Dare, I could kiss that man. He puts his feet on the couch, making sure there isn’t a free spot to sit.
“Raina, we need to speak alone. Tell your band to get out, so we have some privacy.” Dickless scowls at the men around me before pinning me in place with the full force of his attention. He waits for me to do as he ordered, not realizing I have no intentions of doing that at all.
“They aren’t bandmates, Uncle. They’re my family. And you kicked me out of yours long ago. So if you want to share what you have to say, you’ll do it in front of them or you can discuss it with my manager instead,” I retort, gathering every ounce of courage I have left.
A darkness crosses over his face. I can’t describe exactly what changes about his features, but he’s finally showing his true colors. His mask is off and he doesn’t care who sees what he keeps hidden.
“You need to drop the lawsuit, Raina. It doesn’t look cute that you’re bullying a new artist.” He steps as close as he can to me so he’s towering over me, but Darius rests his hand on my thigh, and Nash on my other side has his arm around me, both of them bolstering my strength.
“And why would I do that?” I ask him, maintaining my composure despite the fear brewing in the pit of my stomach. He doesn’t scare me anymore; instead, he disgusts me. The cycle of control, manipulation, and abuse ends today.
