Page 52 of Painkiller (Sin Records #3)

C asey cornered me, waiting just outside the dressing rooms as soon as I stepped out before the show began. “We’re going to the same place,” she said. “You can ride with me and save time. I’m sure I have something you can wear.”

I had no argument. What was I going to say? No? Because her logic was sound.

So I’ve spent the most awkward thirty minutes in the backseat of an SUV, listening to chatter, trying hard not to think about the fact that the first time I met Will, I tried to strip. It shouldn’t matter, considering I was doing exactly what I went to do just a few days ago, but still.

“I noticed you with your boyfriend after the show on Friday night. I wanted to come say hi, but Graham told me to let you have your time together.”

“Um, yeah. Thanks for that. We did want the time alone.”

“Is he still in town?”

“Um…”

“Because if he is, you should call him to come over. I don’t want him to be excluded.”

I wave her off, a tight-lipped smile stretching my mouth. “He does not think he’s being excluded.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. He most definitely does not feel left out of today in any way, and he wants us to enjoy ourselves.” Telling the truth without telling the truth is harder than lying, by the way.

The SUV finally stops outside of a seven-story work of art made of limestone and wrought iron. There are even gargoyles on the third floor overlooking the street. It’s honestly beautiful, and not at all what I was expecting.

A massive pang of guilt slams into me when I realize that in the six months I’ve known her, I’ve never once been here.

I open my door and climb out of the car, waiting for Casey.

When she rounds the rear of the black SUV, she grabs my hand and leads me through the garage.

Jagger’s car is the first thing I notice, making me smile, even dragging my finger over the paint as we walk by, but the smile fades quickly when yelling can be heard on the other side of the door.

Casey gives me a small, apologetic smile as she opens the door to a small entryway with another door separating the next room. The yelling escalates, and I hear Jagger’s voice, calling himself things that I hate but don’t surprise me.

The door opens, revealing a massive kitchen where the tension is so thick you couldn’t drive a tank through it. I scan the room, starting with Graham, noting his tight jaw and rigid spine as he glares at the man standing across from Jagger.

My eyes follow Graham’s line of sight, and it takes two seconds to realize this is their dad.

He looks like an older version of Graham with the same intense, dark eyes, wide jaw, and straight nose.

A vein in his forehead protrudes, visibly thumping with anger as he stares at Jagger.

The look in his eyes makes me physically ill. It drips with disdain and revulsion.

I turn to look at Jagger, whose eyes are focused on me as I stand next to Casey. Muscles in his cheek twitch. His shoulders are tight and tense. But his eyes…

It’s the same look he had that night he fought. Rage and pain. Regret and shame. They battle just as they did that night, and though he’s standing under the weight, he looks like he’s drowning.

And no one else seems to notice. I’m sure they see the anger, but they don’t recognize the rest. Don’t see he’s carrying so much on his shoulders, he should crumble to the ground.

My attention snaps back to his father because it’s obvious he’s the problem. I don’t know what any of this is about, and I don’t care.

“I’m going to get some air,” Jagger says the moment my mouth opens, preventing me from saying anything.

He crosses the room toward the door we’re standing in front of, walking around us, and it feels like he makes a point not to touch me.

I try not to take it personally, but it stings.

“You…” Graham bellows, when the door slams, ripping furious fingers through his hair. “If you don’t open your goddamn eyes, you’re going to lose him forever.”

“My eyes are open, son. Are yours? You baby him too much.”

“Baby him…Are you kidding me right now? I don’t fucking coddle him. He hasn’t been babied since before Mom died. You need to pull your fucking head out of your ass and acknowledge you fucked up. You let him down. We both did.”

“I did no such thing. He’s the one who betrayed me. If he hadn’t fucked—”

“Hey,” Casey interrupts the argument louder and more assertively than I thought she was capable. “Why don’t we all go to our neutral corners for now? Today is supposed to be about Noah and Graham. Okay?”

Graham clears the space between him and Casey in two strides, pulling her to his side. “Okay, Sunflower. We’ll shelve it. For now.”

The last part is clear. Whatever this is all about will be continued later, but Mr. Davis seems to brush it aside. “You’re right, Casey. We won’t let Jagger ruin another family event.”

He turns and leaves before anyone can respond, leaving Graham fuming, Casey looking bereft, and my jaw on the floor.

I know I shouldn’t judge. I don’t know the story. Maybe Jagger really did do something to betray his dad. That might be the constant guilt I see on his face. The deep shame he wears like a second skin.

My gut tells me that isn’t the case, yet he’s still made to feel as if he did something wrong.

“That’s not what I meant,” Casey says softly, sounding on the verge of tears.

“His head is so far up his fucking ass…” Graham trails off, shaking his head with a growl. “Don’t worry about any of that. It won’t work itself out any time soon,” he says to Casey, kissing the side of her head. “Go upstairs and get dressed. Or whatever it is you need to do.”

“Come on, Poppy,” Casey says to me, resignation tinting her voice. She starts up the stairs, undoubtedly expecting me to follow, but my eyes drift over my shoulder as I gnaw my cheek with worry.

Graham scrutinizes me for half a second before he jerks his head toward Casey.

“I’ve got him,” he mouths. But I’m still not convinced I should follow my friend when Jagger is upset.

Everything in me screams I should go to him, even if it will open a whole other can of worms. Casey is halfway up the stairs when Graham grips my shoulder, shoving me toward the landing. “I promise I’ve got him,” he whispers.

But I don’t budge.

Casey pauses, looking toward us. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Sunflower. I just need to borrow Poppy for a minute. I want to ask her about the restaurant where she works. I’m thinking of buying it.”

Two blond brows dip between her eyes as her head tilts. “You work at a restaurant?”

“Yeah. I catch a shift when I can.” I shrug.

“Why didn’t I realize that? I feel awful.”

“It’s fine.” I wave her off. “It’s not as if I advertised.”

“I’ll send her up in a minute.” He winks, and she gives him a goofy, hazy smile.

Once she’s up the stairs, he turns back to me.

A pulsing vein in the middle of his forehead, running between his eyes.

Jagger has one just like it that throbs when he’s annoyed or pissed.

But I’m not worried if Graham is pissed.

I am only concerned with Jagger, and I really want to make sure he’s okay.

“Look, I’m glad you’re so concerned about Jagger, because if I thought for a minute that you were less than genuine with him, you’d be out of here, but I need the stubborn shit to end. Now.”

“You need?” My eyes narrow, arms folded across my chest as I tilt my head back and glare.

He has money, power, and he’s kind of huge, but I’m determined and undeterred.

“No offense, but I’m not the least bit worried about what you need right now.

I don’t know what was going on when we walked in, but it’s obvious Jagger needs…

” I trail off, not wanting to say me because I’m not sure what he needs.

But I don’t want him left alone. “Someone.”

“And I said I’ve got it.”

“If you had it, then it wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

I’m not sure what about that strikes a nerve, but his already dark eyes turn to obsidian, cloudy with anger and…regret? A muscle in his cheek jerks, and his eye twitches. I half expect him to swing. It’s obvious hot heads run in the family.

Then he relaxes, blowing out a breath. Hot heads might be inherited, but control is not.

Jagger wouldn’t be calm yet. “Casey still doesn’t know about you two, and while I don’t think she will care, the last thing we need is to give my dad something else to remark on.

He might’ve looked calm to you, but my little brother is two seconds from losing his shit and it’s important that he’s here today. ”

“Important for whom?”

“Important for him, Poppy. He needs to be here. Trust me.”

My mouth pulls to the side as I chew the inside of my mouth, staring at him.

Studying him. “Don’t let him…” I hesitate, not having any idea what I’m trying to ask.

Don’t let him get in his head? Don’t let him do drugs?

I’m slammed with the sudden realization that I really don’t know him.

But everything inside me screams that he’s on the edge of self-destruction.

I have no reason to think that—to believe it, but I do.

Something in those jade eyes just seemed scarily resigned.

Like everything I heard him say about himself, he would prove to be true.

“Go on up.” His head tilts toward the stairs. “Fourth floor. Second door on the left.”

I do, following his instructions and trusting he will take care of his brother.

An hour later, I’m wearing a plum-colored cashmere sweater dress of Casey’s, black leggings, and black knee-high boots I wear at the club on occasion. My bun has been released into a ponytail down my back, and my makeup has been upgraded.