Page 6 of The Bitter Words

I prepare myself a bowl of cereal as he fiddles with his phone.

I point to the milk near him. “Can you pass that to me?”

“Uh…yeah.” He peers up at me and hands me the container.

The way he’s scrutinizing me has me stopping what I’m doing. “What?”

“Did you get a text from Livianna?”

“Yeah, she’s pissed off at me, but once we pick her up from the airport and I explain everything to her, she’ll cool off.”

His brows furrow. “Cash, she’s not coming. Not only that, but she also called me Guns. She’s never done that.”

“What do you mean she’s not coming?” I pull my phone out of the pocket of my sweatpants and check for another message.

Nothing.

Bren slides his phone to me. “See for yourself.”

I scan the text she sent to him last night. “I fucking told her to call me and I’d explain. She knows we’re trying to sabotage this tour.”

“Why the hell would she call me Guns? What did I do to her?”

“You were in the picture my uncle took. She must think we were having a foursome or something along those lines.”

“It’s what we would’ve done while we were on our last tour, so I can’t say I blame her.”

I scowl in his direction. “I can. She knows I wouldn’t cheat.”

“That’s not true. She only knows what we did the last time.” He shrugs and seemingly grins at the memories.

I slug him across the table. “It’s not like that anymore and she should realize that.”

“Asshole.” He rubs his arm. “How do you expect her to feel? You two barely speak. When you do, it’s rushed and full of bullshit small talk. Fuck, half the time I don’t remember you’re with my sister, and I’m supposed to have her back.”

My chest caves in for more than one reason. “I could do better, but…”

“What?”

“I’m not sure I’d reach her if I did.”

“What are you talking about?”

I consider how much I wanna tell him. He doesn’t judge me for shit, but he does Livianna. There’s a different set of expectations and rules she has to follow.

“Cash, tell me what you’re hiding.”

Fuck it. He knows her better than I do. I suck in a breath and explain.

“Sometimes when we FaceTime, I can tell she’s high. Not from weed, though. It’s different because she’s not connected at all. She’s way out there, numb to anything we’re talking about.” I run my fingers through my hair. “I think she’s using painkillers again.”

“Fuck…” His expression drops to one of disbelief. “I thought she was done with those.”

“Me too.”

“Are you sure she’s on them?”

“No, but she slips and says things like she did when she was taking them before. And her pupils are the size of a pinprick.”