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His laugh is deep, dark. Angry. “I can tell you who never taught me a damn thing.”
Oakley. I swallow again, this time finding my throat clenched tight. The mood shifts, taking a turn for the worse. “Have you called your mom back? She sounded like she really wanted to talk to you.”
He stiffens, suddenly tense, full of so much resentment and hurt. I want nothing more than to be able to take some of his pain away. To fix what his family let break between them.
I exhale slowly while covering the fingers stroking the strings with my own, squeezing his hand. Leaning my cheek to his shoulder, I stare down at our hands, at how different they are. Noah’s fingertips are tough, calloused and worn. The nails are bitten, the skin around them ripped and sore. My heart tugs at the pain he brings himself, the scars on the outside only a brief preview of what lies inside.
The scabs and bruises on my knuckles are the only scars I have. Both inside and out. It’s unfair. I would have done anything to give Noah the life I had growing up, the unwavering understanding I received.
He shouldn’t have struggled the way he did. His family isn’t evil. They love him in their own way and have always wanted the best for him. I think, maybe, that’s where they went wrong. They tried too hard to control him, to the point they pushed him away. Noah is a wild horse, and they tried to pen him up the way they had his siblings. But what worked for Maddox and Adalyn didn’t work for him. He got spooked, and they lost him. Now . . . now he’s too far gone, been alone in the wild for too long to ever come back to them.
Noah’s voice cuts through the silence, the sound of it hoarse. “If I call, she’ll ask to see me.”
“Maybe not.”
“You know better than to believe otherwise.”
I sigh, rubbing my cheek on his bicep as I bring our hands to my chest, keeping them close. “She’s your mother. And she loves you so much. Would seeing her be such a bad thing? If not before we leave, then once we’re in Vancouver. Your show there is the night before my fight. There’s no reason we couldn’t stop in and say hello.”
He links our fingers and grips them tight, as if finding strength in the embrace. His throat bobs before he mutters, “Fine. When we’re in Vancouver. But I need you there with me.”
“I saidwe, didn’t I?” I tease, attempting to lighten the mood.
He nods and bangs the back of his head to the headboard, staring at the ceiling. His next words are strained, as if he isn’t sure if he wants to actually speak them.
“I’ll play you the song tonight if you give it a name.”
Giddy excitement rushes through me. “Really?”
“It needs a name before I can release it. I have nothing. Been thinking about it for days.”
He pulls his hand from mine and starts to play the song from the beginning, I stay tucked into his side and let the music flow through me. I shut my eyes and allow the notes to take me somewhere special, a place only he and I know.
We stay like this for hours, him finishing the song only to start it over and over again when I keep quiet, not ready for him to stop. By the time sleep comes for me, not only do I have a possible title for the song, but another piece of him has dug its way into my soul.
I dream of the soft, sad notes and the hint of his voice whispering words that I know I won’t remember in the morning.
7
TINSLEY
My world feels completelyat peace as I accept my mom’s hug and breathe in her soft perfume. She sighs into my hair and rubs her hand up and down my back, her arms growing tighter around me with each passing second.
“Oh, I’m going to miss you so much,” she breathes.
I give her a squeeze. “I’m going to miss you too. But I’m not leaving yet. Can we please save the tears for when I do?”
Reluctantly, she nods, dragging her hand up my back once more before pulling back, holding me in front of her by my arms. We’re not big criers in my family, but when it comes to each other, we could fill buckets with our tears. I’ve already begun to prepare myself for our goodbye.
Mom’s silver eyes, the same colour as mine, are glistening with unshed tears that twinkle in the foyer light. The sight is enough to make my nose burn and eyelids blink profusely.
“Knock it off,” I chastise her, covering her hands and squeezing her fingers.
“Oh, boy. Look at what you’ve started, little fighter.” Dad enters with a lingering kiss to Mom’s cheek. He’s still wearing his gym clothes, the Knockout Fitness logo a deep red on the corner of his T-shirt. He must have left work early to get home for dinner, which isn’t an unusual thing for him. Not on family dinner nights.
“Hello, darling daughter. Long time no see,” he teases before he’s grinning at me and tugging me into a quick but comforting hug. “If the both of you start crying already, I’ll be next, and I have a reputation to uphold, yeah?”
“That’s right, how could I have been so selfish?” I ask.
