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He had to focus on his music. He had to help keep Fractured at the top and get Crossfire there too. He didn’t want to be distracted from those goals. He couldn’t be. And Cassie was too damn selfless for her own good. She’d given herself without a second thought. Not just her body, her emotions, and the painful pieces of her past. All he’d given her was a few orgasms. She deserved more than that. She deserved someone who could give her exactly what she needed. She’d had enough people in her life who let her down. She deserved someone who would put her first.
And that wasn’t him. He just wasn’t capable of it.
The accusations he braced for never came. Or the questions. Instead, Cassie just stared out the window, a crease between her brows and a distant look in her eyes. Every now and again, she unconsciously touched her left hand where her engagement ring used to be. He noticed her doing it because he couldn’t stop staring at her while he waited for her to just fuckingsaysomething. And every time he saw the gesture, he would grit his teeth and suppress the ridiculous urge to punch something.
The car ride to the concert venue was no better than the flight. Cassie still avoided looking at him while he couldn’t keep his fucking eyes away from her. He jiggled his knee and shifted in his seat. He’d gotten used to talking to her. To hearing her voice and seeing her smile. He rubbed the heel of his hand against the pressure growing behind his sternum. Would she stop sitting up with him at night? He only had himself to blame if she did.
Would she leave if they couldn’t get back to the way things were?
Fuck. He’d really screwed things up. He should have just talked to her when she’d been down on her knees in front of him instead of taking her into the bedroom and screwing her. Even if that was something he’d been imagining doing for far too long. Even if just the memory of being that close to her had him fisting his hands on his knees to avoid doing something stupid again.
Once he had himself under control, he looked at her—at her profile, the curve of her cheek, the softness of her lips. As if responding to the weight of his gaze, her stormy blue eyes met his. Several emotions flitted over her face before she looked away again. Zac’s heart gave a hollow thump.
She gave him something when she shared her pain with him and he’d given nothing in return.
“My father thinks I ruined his life.” He almost didn’t recognize his own voice, it came out so low and rough.
Cassie’s gaze jerked back to him. She shook her head. “Why?”
Zac expelled a breath. He hated talking about this. He didn’t even talk to his friends about it. Even when they were kids, he hated the thought of them knowing. Which was why he’d avoided inviting them to his house as much as possible. They knew he wasn’t close to his father. But he didn’t think they had any idea the way things really were. That’s how he wanted it. But he wanted Cassie to know. He wanted to give her something, even if it couldn’t repair the damage he’d already done.
“It took me a long time to figure out why he hated me. I pieced it together from the screaming matches between him and Mom. From the things he yelled at me whenever I got in his way. From the gossip I overheard.” He clenched his jaw and looked out the window.
“Zac, you don’t have to—”
“He used to be a touring musician.” He looked back at her and made himself keep going. “Lead guitarist. When Mom got pregnant with me, she got sick and ended up on bed rest. Dad was forced to stay home and look after her. He wasn’t happy about it, but she didn’t have anyone else. She needed someone, and he was it.”
Cassie’s eyes were soft as she listened, not pressuring him to talk, just letting him do it at his own pace.
“I figure he was probably always a big drinker. But no one cares about stuff like that when you’re on tour, as long as you turn up and do a good job. It’s part of the life, right? Not so much when you’re working a regular job, trying to support yourself and your pregnant wife. He got a job bartending and occasionally playing his guitar. His drinking got worse. He stayed out late when he should have been home with Mom. You know, the usual.” Zac shrugged, though his shoulders were so stiff, he was surprised they didn’t crack at the movement.
“After I was born, Dad couldn’t wait to get back out on the road, but he was out of the loop, drinking more heavily than ever. Having a needy wife and baby at home held him back. His words.” Zac could hear the flat bitterness in his voice and cleared his throat before continuing. “He couldn’t pick up gigs as easily, so he spent more and more time at the bar, working and drinking. One night, he drove drunk and had an accident. Single car only, thank fuck. And he was lucky enough. Only ended up with a brief hospital stay, a DUI, a hefty fine, and nerve damage in his left hand.”
He looked away from the shock of understanding in Cassie’s eyes. His dad had never let him forget that if it hadn’t been for him, he’d still be out there living the dream. Instead, he could barely play the music he loved more than anything or anyone.
The same way Zac loved it.
Cassie edged closer but didn’t touch him. He didn’t blame her after what happened on the plane. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her to.
“He should have never put that on you, Zac,” she said. “None of it was your fault.”
“It wasn’t just me. He resented the hell out of all of us, Mom and Tori when she came along. God knows what they were thinking, having another kid. Maybe Mom hoped it would make things better between them.” He gave a short laugh. “It didn’t.”
“Why didn’t they get divorced?”
It was the million-dollar question. Why didn’t his dad leave? How could his mom not have walked away? “Some kind of sick co-dependency? Not wanting to be alone? I don’t know, they’ve always had a toxic relationship. Mom swore she loved him and he loved her, but they fought constantly. Dad was always angry.Always. He used to scare Tori when she was younger. She ran and hid whenever he started in on me. But if it was him and Mom going at it, I would take her upstairs to her bedroom, and sing to her. Nursery rhymes, silly songs. Anything to distract her from the words they were screaming at each other and the sound of dishes smashing.”
“Did he…” She bit her lip. “Did he hit her? Did he hityou?”
Without realizing he was doing it, Zac found himself tracing the pick that lay against his chest under his shirt. He dropped his hand. He hadn’t answered her, but his hesitation must have told her the truth.
“Zac…” It came out on a shaky breath.
“Not all the time.” He cut her off before she could say anything else. Not wanting to meet her gaze, he focused on where he was now playing with his leather cuff. “Not Mom, as far as I know. And not Tori. That’s the important thing. It was a long time ago, anyway. He stopped when he finally realized I was going to be bigger than him.”
The featherlight touch on his arm startled him into looking up. Her eyes were glossy. “I’m so sorry, Zac.”
With her this close, it was hard to remember that touching her was a mistake. Her warmth seeped into his skin, her scent filling the space between them. The tempting curve of her full lips made him want to lose himself all over again. To drown himself in the comfort she gave so freely.
