"I dunno. I don't know if Greyson will understand, so we've been keeping it hidden for now." I looked down away from her and over the harbor. It really was gorgeous.
"I hear you, but I know him. If he sees that you both actually care for each other, no one will get hurt." She smiled. "But you know if he hurts you, he's dead."
I swallowed. Hard. That was exactly what I was afraid of.
"How's your funnel cake?" I asked.
She grinned at me and then took a bite. "Perfect. Exactly what I wanted with my pineapple smoothie."
"You're past cravings now, aren't you?" I asked.
She nodded. "I am, but that's not the reason for the pineapple. It is supposed to help naturally induce labor. I'm holding out for it. My midwife says my dates may have been off, and I might actually be eight months, so they aren't ready to do anything drastic yet."
I nodded, that made sense.
"Are you ready to be done?" I asked.
She nodded emphatically. "I just want this baby out of me and in my arms."
A huge part of me wondered if I would ever have that. I wanted to say yes, but I honestly didn't know for sure. Would it be with Janson?
Could it be?
I didn't know the answer to any of those things either.
"Come on, let's go back to my place. I have a bunch of clothing I need to donate, and Greyson says you have nothing to wear? It sounds like a worthy cause to me." She stood, her big belly jutting out from her as she waited for me. I could tell by the smile in her eyes that she thought of us as family.
It was the first time in a long time that I actually felt a title like that belonged to a group of people.
Maybe I didn't need to go to Chicago to find what I was looking for after all.
Maybe I just needed to come home.
Chapter Twelve
Kathryn
“Are you sure I can do this?” I asked Janson as I looked down at him. It was my first night here. I’d been practicing for a week, and I still didn’t feel ready.
Just like I wasn’t ready to go back home. Every time the idea came up, I just pushed it away. I didn’t want my father to know I was here. Not yet. I needed more time with Janson.
I needed more nights with him. Every night that I spent tangled up in his arms was another one that made me want more. I couldn’t get enough of that man, and I knew as soon as I went back home it would all come to an end.
It was selfish, and I knew it, but I was too afraid, and no one was pushing me to do it. Not yet. I had to wait for Michael’s signal, and I knew that, but it was still terrifying.
The prospect of my father finding out I was here on my own was also so scary.
“And you are sure he won’t know to look for me? That he won’t know it’s me?”
“It isn’t your name on the setlist, Kathryn. I hardly think he’ll look twice at the name Kat and think it is you.”
He had a point. There were probably a million of us in the Metro DC area alone. I still was so nervous.
“You just have some stage fright. But you’ve done this before. In bigger crowds. You told me all about Chicago. About the swarms of people. This is nothing compared to it. A few dozen compared to hundreds, Kathryn.”
It wasn’t like this. Me on a stage under lights. This felt so personal. So terrifying.
But it was my goal. The one I’d been working towards for so long. Sure, it was handed to me, but every opportunity feels that way. It’s what I could do with it that mattered. I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not about this.
I just had to put my big girl pants on and deal with it.
So I stepped out on that stage, and I waited for my introduction.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight we have a real treat for you. From the streets of Chicago, we have a newcomer to the Crystalize’s stage. Kat. She’s playing a compilation of her own music.” A tall, dark, handsome figure named Matt introduced me, and I smiled.
I’d brought my setup, including my backtracks for this piece.
I worked best when my violin was the centerpiece that was complimented by an electronic beat.
It started before I did, the rhythm section setting the mood.
Dark. Everything was dark. This was my moment. It wasn’t long before the music swept into my bones and took over my body. I played the violin like nothing I’d ever done before. I was a part of it. Every time it felt this way. It felt like I was my instrument and it was me.
I loved that about playing. I loved that about my life. I could lose myself in my music. Each piece was an expression of the things I’d been through. It was the climax of all the experiences I’d had.
Most of what I wrote was sad and soulful. But not this first piece. This one was angry. It was scared. It was beautiful.
It was the culmination of what I felt when I saw my father for who he really was, and it told the story without words.
It didn’t need it. It was so fueled with rage that anyone listening would know that this was a part of me. A deep piece of my soul.
I rushed my fingers as I got to the most complex piece. It had to be just right. It had to have the desired effect.