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“Absolutely. I just hope I can bite my tongue.”
That was doubtful. A little part of me worried it might scare Sawyer to see how much I resembled my father—in looks and voice. Someone that similar had to be wired the same way.
I love Sawyer. I will not hurt her or Dylan.
Sawyer put her hand to my cheek. “You are not your father.”
“How do you know?” It would help a hell of a lot if I didn’t have to worry about it nearly every second of every day.
“Did your father ever keep a promise?”
I thought back to my childhood. He’d promised to teach me to ride a bike. That never happened. He’d promised to take me fishing. That never happened. Besides self-serving shit, nothing he’d ever said came to be. “Not really.”
“Well, you’re already different.” She must have seen the confusion on my face because I wasn’t following her. “You’ve kept your promise to Dylan to watch over Knoah. You made a promise to be there for me and our baby. You stayed by me even when you were completely freaked out.”
“Sawyer, that’s different.”
“No, it’s not. You’re not your father. You are your own person. I’m not my parents. I could never be as cold and heartless to a child of my own as they’ve been to me, regardless of what Dylan ever does.”
Do I cut him out of my life and risk hurting my mom? It was a no-win situation. “So, are you saying don’t have dinner with him?”
“Do whatever you want to do. If he’s a self-serving prick, do you want him in our child’s life? I don’t want my parents in mine. He doesn’t have the control; you do. Your sandbox, your rules.”
This bit about her parents was news to me. I wasn’t sure how we were going to proceed down that path. Sawyer’s parents hadn’t acknowledged the news of her pregnancy, and she didn’t want to call them. I knew one thing—they weren’t going to fuck with my family.
Sawyer continued, “Our kids will be surrounded by love. They’ll have Lana, Cameron, Monica, Knoah, Garrick, Edge, Harlem, Sykes, Nina…all those people will be there for our child. Blood isn’t a necessity to make a family. I’ve learned this on the tour. Before, I was obsessed getting my parents to love me because it was what I pictured a family should be. But what happened to Mattie was an accident. I would have traded my life to save hers.”
“I agree. I’ll think about how I want to proceed with him.” It was time for me to move forward and stop punishing myself. I deserved some fucking happiness.
The wheels touched down on the runway, and my phone blew up with texts. It was the band checking on Sawyer. I sent one response to all of them.
Me: Landed in Orlando. Sawyer’s doing okay. I’m ready to catch this bitch. Sorry to leave you guys with the closing of the tour.
Edge: Take care of Sawyer. We’ve got this.
Harlem: What Edge said. I think we’ve smoothed over the crew’s concerns. They were worried about Sawyer. Per Steve’s directions, we let them know she was exhausted and needed some rest.
Sykes: Let us know if you need anything.
Me: Thanks, guys.
I also had a message from Steve to call him.
Sawyer busied herself gathering her things as I pressed Call.
“Hello?”
“Steve. Kurt.”
“We went to Jennifer Terrance’s residence. She was already dead.”
Oh, shit. I closed my eyes and dragged a hand down my face. Will this ever end? “What happened?”
“It appears to be a homicide.”
“Are you serious?”
Sawyer stopped and sat beside me when she heard me. Is this woman an accomplice or a victim? There was some shuffling on the other end before Steve came back. “Yes. Ms. Terrance’s ID has not been located. The coroner believes she’s been dead around seventy hours. The two days prior to this, she reported to work sick. Today she appears to have come to the concert, worked long enough to visit your room, and gone home sick, according to her coworkers. She had laryngitis.”
