Page 242 of Fame & Rhythm

Dad standing impossibly still.

It’s just him.

His face is pale, every muscle in his jaw locked so tightly I think he might shatter under the pressure of holding himself together. His eyes never leave mine, and for one impossible moment it feels like we’re the only two people left in the world.

I try to memorize him.

The way the early morning light catches in his hair.

The crease between his eyebrows whenever he’s worried.

The tiny scar beneath his chin that I used to trace with my fingertips when neither of us could sleep.

I love you. The words stay trapped inside my head.

My lips never get the chance to say them.

Aston’s gaze flickers, just for a fraction of a second, toward the trees beyond Loretta’s shoulder.

Confusion brushes against the drug-induced fog clouding my thoughts.

Then suddenly, three gunshots crack through the park so violently they seem to split the morning in half. I flinch instinctively, my eyes slam shut, and something warm splashes across my face.

Thick.

Wet.

My heart stops.

She stabbed me. The thought crashes into me before anything else can.

I wait for the pain.

Wait for the blade to sink into me.

Wait for everything to go dark, but it never comes.

Instead, Loretta’s grip vanishes so suddenly I stumble forward, my knees buckling beneath me after hours of being held against my will.

I catch myself with trembling hands, every muscle shaking violently as I stare at the blood dripping from my cheek onto the grass below.

Blood.

So much blood.

My pulse thunders in my ears as I slowly lift a shaking hand to my face, my fingertips coming away slick with crimson.

Mine?

I don’t know.

I don’t know anything.

The world has dissolved into muffled voices and ringing ears, my thoughts swimming too heavily beneath the cocaine to make sense of what just happened.

Then someone is running toward me.

Fast.