Page 32

J enner glanced up as the door to his studio slammed open.

He wasn’t surprised to find Sampson storming in. He was one of the few people who would just barge in.

He set his guitar aside. He wasn’t getting anywhere anyway. Instead, he picked up his glass of Scotch and took a sip.

Everything was fucked up at the moment.

Things between him and Immy were so awkward and he hated it. Hated the space between them, detested that they were drifting apart.

Kissing her had felt like a dream, like heaven.

Then maybe you should fucking do something so you don’t lose her.

“What the hell did you do?” Sampson thundered down at him.

“You might have to expand on that,” he said tiredly.

“Don’t drink that shit. You know it messes with your brain,” Sampson bossed.

Always the older brother. Always with the right answer. Doing the correct thing.

Sampson had been their father’s favorite.

And he’d treated Jenner accordingly.

A shiver went through him and he squashed that feeling.

All of that is over. And you can’t keep using that as an excuse for your behavior.

“What did you do to hurt her?” Sampson demanded.

At those words, he sat up. His gut went tight. “Hurt her? The cut was an accident.”

“Not that. There’s something wrong between the two of you. She looks at you like you kicked Snowy then stomped on him. So what did you do?”

He hated that. Hated that he’d hurt her.

Fuck.

He really did need to sort his shit out.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her. I never want to hurt Immy.”

Why did his fucked-up brain do this? Why couldn’t he get everything sorted out in his head? He smacked his head with the palm of his hand.

“Don’t,” Sampson said. “Don’t do that. It’s not going to help. Just tell me.”

“I kissed her. Or, she kissed me.”

“Fuck. Then what? Please don’t tell me you rejected her. You did, didn’t you?”

“Why am I like this?” he whispered. “I went to a therapist. I did what they said. I thought I was better.”

He was so much better before . . . before everything had taken off with his career. Before his worries started to get hold of him and then wouldn’t let him fucking go.

He didn’t like being this way. He felt like he was dangling on the edge of a cliff, about to fall. However, if he did, it wouldn’t just be him that fell.

Everyone would go with him.

“I don’t know if you can be cured, more like you learn to cope,” Sampson told him gruffly as he took a seat across from him.

Jenner didn’t like that. He stared down at his clenched hands. “When I’m writing songs, when I’m singing, everything else fades away. It all goes into the background. And I . . . I can quiet my mind. I’m in control.”

“I feel that way when I go to the club.”

“Yeah. I get that.” He used to visit the club with Sampson. But it was too hard to visit now that he’d found fame. The paparazzi would annihilate him. When, at the moment, they adored him.

Not that he cared, but it was good for his career.

And the more his career took off, the more money he made. The more money he made, the more stability he could give to his family.

Not to mention that half of them worked for him. He’d wanted to be surrounded by people he trusted.

What he hadn’t realized was the toll it would take on him, worrying about keeping them all employed.

It was something that wore on him, along with having to keep the fans happy, the press positive, and do what everyone wanted of him.

It was a fucking boulder on his shoulders sometimes. Especially since he didn’t feel like he could share it with anyone.

A man who was a real man didn’t moan and complain. Maybe he should go to a therapist again. Because he felt like he was drowning with no lifeline in sight.

“I felt better when I went to the club.”

“Because you were in control. You’re like me, we need to feel in control of our surroundings and sometimes we can’t be.”

“I never wanted to hurt Immy. I love her.”

Sampson eyed him. “She loves you too, you know. She’s in love with you.”

Jenner shook his head. “She can’t be.”

“She is.”

“I don’t deserve her!”

“Is that what you believe or what our father made you believe? Because you do deserve her.”

“She needs someone better. Someone who isn’t fucked in the head. Do you know what I did after she kissed me? I ran. And then I spent the next thirty minutes vomiting my guts out.”

“What?” Sampson whispered.

“That’s what he did to me. Immy is good and pure and innocent. I am not. I cannot touch her like that. Not with these fucking hands.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

A wave of nausea washed through him.

His feelings for her were wrong. Immy should be protected. Revered. She should never be harmed.

Immy was the best of them.

Perfection.

That could never be tarred. Especially by him. Because he was wrong.

Dirty.

Getting to his feet, he raced into the bathroom and threw up.

So weak.

He was supposed to always be strong and tough. To be the solid wall that everyone leaned on.

That wall wasn’t supposed to crumble under pressure.

Be a man, Jenner.

Stop being such a wimp.

Take your beating without crying.

God. Was it any wonder that he was a complete basket case.

He was what his father had made him.

Sometimes he wished he could separate himself from his emotions. But then he’d just be a robot.

“You good now?” Sampson asked gruffly, standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

Jenner let out a huff of air that had nothing to do with laughter. “Good? Man, I don’t think I’ve been good for a while now.”

Years, maybe.

“You do a decent job of hiding it,” Sampson told him.

“Do I?” he asked as he stood, flushing and grabbed his toothbrush, brushing his teeth.

Sampson stepped aside as he strode into the studio and got a bottle of water from the mini-fridge he kept out here. He chugged it down before sitting on the sofa. Sampson started pacing up and down the room.

Finally, he sat and stared at Jenner intently. “What was that about?”

Sampson had always been an intense kind of guy. Big and gruff and no-nonsense. Their father had wanted Sampson to follow in his footsteps and become a Sentinel.

So, basically, an abusive fuck who did whatever the fuck he wanted to whoever he wanted.

And anyone who complained would be taken care of.

How many people who had made a complaint or stuck up for someone else had disappeared?

Jenner swallowed back more nausea.

“What is going on with you? I know you’re under stress, but are you ill? Do you need some emotional help or something?”

“Are you offering?” Jenner asked, feeling amused for the first time since they’d started this conversation.

“Fuck, no. You need someone who knew how to deal with that shit. That’s not me. Not that there’s anything wrong with needing, uh, therapy.”

Jenner rolled his eyes. Sampson could barely get the word out.

“Well? Are you going to tell me why you just looked like you’d seen a ghost? And then ran into the bathroom to vomit?”

Jenner shook his head. “You were always his favorite, you know.”

Sampson narrowed his gaze at Jenner. “That’s what this is about? The old man?”

“Isn’t it always?” Jenner said bitterly. “The old man and the Deity coming back to haunt us.”

“What did they do to you?” Sampson asked darkly.

“I don’t . . . what’s the point in talking about it?” Sampson had always been protective of him.

And he knew it would hurt him to find out the truth.

“Because you need to tell someone. Because something is going on with you. You’re so obsessed with fame that you’re forgetting about the rest of us.”

“Forgetting about you? How can I forget all of you when this is for all of you!”

“What the hell does that mean?” Sampson barked.

“Forget it. It doesn’t matter.” Jenner waved his hand weakly through the air. Then he stood. “I’m going to bed.”

“Nope.” Sampson put his hand on Jenner’s chest. “You’re not going to bed until you talk to me.”

Jenner narrowed his gaze at him. “I’m not that pimply, skinny teenage boy anymore and I won’t let you or anyone else push me around!”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’ve never pushed you around.”

Jenner gave him a skeptical look. “If I do something you don’t approve of, then you do your best to make me stop. You always think you’re in charge.”

Sampson crossed his arms over his wide chest. “I am.”

“Of my safety. Nothing else.” Jenner moved past him.

“You’re hurting her.”

Sampson’s voice held no accusation. No anger. It was said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Jenner closed his eyes. The pain hit him hard and deep. “Fuck. Fuck! That’s the last thing I want. I . . . I didn’t mean to hurt her. I would never deliberately hurt her.”

Sampson sighed. “No. I didn’t think you would. Why don’t you think you’re good enough for her?”

Fuck. “When I was younger I thought she was so sweet and cute and fun. She was my safe place.”

Sampson nodded. “I know you used to sneak into her bedroom and sleep next to her bed when you wanted to escape our father. I was always worried he’d find out where you were and blame Immy or her parents. But I also knew it had to be bad for you to go there. That you were scared.”

Jenner shook his head. “I was scared. But not for me. For her.”

“What do you mean, for her?”

“He wanted her,” he whispered, feeling sick again.

Enough.

He had to be stronger than this. He placed his hand on his flat stomach. His jeans were getting loose. Jenner knew he was losing weight. He was stressed constantly and it was starting to show.

“Who? The Deity?” Sampson snapped. “He wanted her and Cat? That sick fucking bastard.”

Jenner swallowed heavily. “You might need a drink for this.”

Sampson poured himself a glass of Scotch and they both sat again.

“Not the Deity,” Jenner told him, staring down at his hands. “Our father.”

“Our father wanted Immy?” Sampson asked. “You’re fucking with me.”

“You think I would make this stuff up?” Jenner glanced to see Sampson was pale and shocked.

Sampson shook his head. “No.”

“No, because you couldn’t make this shit up.” Jenner took a sip of his drink, grimacing at the burn. “He noticed everything, didn’t he? But he noticed how close I was to Immy. How much we all tried to shelter her, to help her keep her sweetness, her innocence.”

Something it felt like the rest of them had lost. They tried to keep all of the girls safe. But they failed all too often.

“He was never happy with me, you know that. I was a failure. Not tough enough, not sadistic enough.”

“No one would be for that bastard. He loved to hurt people. And if they didn’t like what he was doing . . . even better. At least you didn’t get his ‘toughening you up’ beatings,” Sampson said.

Shit.

Jenner stayed quiet, looking away.

“Jenner. Tell me he didn’t do that to you.”

Fuck. He swallowed heavily. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Fucking asshole!” Sampson stood and threw the bottle in his hand against the wall, where it smashed.

“Hey, you’re always telling me not to behave like a typical rockstar,” Jenner said weakly.

“He promised me. If I did what he wanted . . . he promised to leave you alone. How did he hide that from me?”

“It was always while you were with the Deity for your Sentinel training,” Jenner said. “And he knew how to inflict maximum pain with minimum bruising.”

“Yeah, that was his specialty,” Sampson said bitterly. “Fucking asshole.” He sat and picked up his Scotch, drinking it in one gulp. “He said that if I went to the Sentinel training that he would leave you alone. That he wouldn’t harm you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What would you have done?” Jenner asked.

“Fucking killed him!”

“I didn’t want you to die because of me. And you know that you didn’t have the power to go up against him. Besides . . . it wasn’t you he threatened to keep me quiet.”

Understanding filled Sampson’s face. “Immy.”

“Immy. He threatened to hurt her if I said anything. While he was hurting me, he’d talk about her. He’d tell me that he was going to ask the Deity for her to be his next wife and then he’d tell me in explicit detail what he’d do to her.”

“Fuck,” Sampson said in a raw voice. “Jenner.”

“You can imagine how much that fucked with my brain. Christ, I was a teenager. I thought Immy was cute. I liked her. Sometimes, I’d get hard when I saw her.

But not after those beatings, after what he would say about what he .

. . what he would do. Then I just felt ill when I looked at her .

. . not because she was bad or wrong or anything about her. It was all about me.”

“I get it,” Sampson whispered.

“God, he fucked me up.” Being in control in the bedroom was the only way he could have sex. Being at the club had helped him a lot, and it was messing with him now that he couldn’t risk going.

“Does the idea of touching Immy make you feel ill?”

“I mean, not exactly. I touch her all the time. I guess it’s the thought that I might hurt her. That I might have something of him in me.”

“You don’t,” Sampson said fiercely. “You are nothing like our fucked up father.”

“I’d never forgive myself if I hurt her.”

“You won’t. The fact you’re so worried about it tells me you would take every care with her.”

“I’d need full control, though.”

“And you think Immy wouldn’t understand that if you told her?”

“I think she’s too sweet and innocent for that.”

Sampson shook his head. “You underestimate Immy. You should have some faith in her.”

Jenner still wasn’t sure he could trust himself. “I need to see a therapist again.”

“Yeah, you do. You need to sort this shit out. For your sake. And Immy’s. I know our father twisted everything up in your head. But it’s not wrong to want Immy and you would never harm her.”

“I was so scared he was going to get his hands on her. After the punishments, I’d go sleep on the floor of her room. To keep her safe from him.”

“Fuck.” Sampson leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.

“I’m fucked up, aren’t I?”

“Yep.”

Jenner huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think you’re meant to agree with me. I mean, think it, but don’t say it.”

“What good would lying to you do?” Sampson asked. “You are fucked up. You need fucking therapy. Hell, we should probably all be in therapy until we die.”

“Did you think freedom was going to be like this? I thought all of our fears and worries would be gone. I thought it would feel so good to not be afraid all the time. But now I’m just afraid for different reasons.”

“Yeah. And those old demons never seem to die. You just have to learn to live with them.”

Exactly.

But he might need some help to do that. So he was going to look into a therapist.