I size her up for a long second, deciding how much I can trust her with, then start walking again. “Let’s start with you. There’s more to your whole story than just showing up and auditioning for The Voice.”
She frowns at my deflection, but answers anyway. “Like I said, my life is all over the internet. No secrets.”
“So, give me the Cliff Notes.”
“My crackhead mother left me in a McDonalds bathroom when I was a few days old. They say it’s a miracle I’m alive. That’s why someone thought it was clever to put the last name Luck instead of Doe on all my paperwork. I was in foster homes for a while, but it’s hard to adopt out a crack baby, I guess, because everyone’s pretty sure you’re going to turn out moron or something. When I started high school, they moved me into a group home in the city.” She shoves her hands in the pockets of her jacket and shrugs. “Technically, that’s where I still live.”
“So, how does that work now that you’re a rockstar? Like, who signed your contract and where does all the money go?”
“Thanks to Billie, the State’s not stealing all my money, if that’s what you’re asking. She got a lawyer and we got everything set up in a trust. The State is the custodian, but the lawyer worked it out so that they can’t access the accounts without me knowing.”
I nod. “Glad someone’s looking out for you.”
“Billie’s been great. She’s got my back.” She gives me an inquisitive lift of her eyebrows. “Now your turn.”
I take a deep drag and blow a stream of white smoke into the cool early morning air. “I took off from home when I was a kid. It was a bad situation. I ended up in Shreveport because that’s as far from Mobile as the money I had would take me, and it was far enough that I didn’t think anyone would find me.”
A deep crease forms between her eyebrows. “So you were running from your family?”
I nod.
“When you say bad situation…?”
“I got beat up a lot. Nearly ended up in the hospital the night I left.”
“Who would…?”
She leaves the noose dangling, so I jump into it. “My old man.”
Her eyes widen when she puts the pieces together. My cover story is I never knew him. “Did you…I don’t know, ever fight back or whatever?”
I shake my head. “Make love, not war. I fucked his girlfriend instead.”
Her face freezes in a mask of shock, and I regret opening my mouth. I don’t even know what compelled me to say any of this to her. But now I feel like she has to know the rest of the story.
I lower my gaze and take another drag, watching my feet. “She was patching me up the night after my old man beat the living shit out of me, cleaning the blood off my face with a washrag. I grabbed her and stuck my tongue down her throat. I don’t really know why, except at the time I felt so fucking helpless and I guess it felt like revenge. But when she kissed me back instead of pushing me away…” I trail off with a shrug, wondering why the fuck it was this story, of all of them, that decided it needed to be told.
“Did your dad know…what happened?” she asks, some of the shock on her face dissolving into sympathy I don’t deserve.
We reach the security gate into the lot where her bus is parked and I lean against the post. “I didn’t wait around to find out. I took off before dawn.”
“As in…forever? You just left home?”
I nod. “I’ve never been back to Mobile. Not even on tour.”
“So, have you talked to your dad since?”
This is deeper into my history than I’ve ever gone—more information than even Grim has. If I don’t stop the bleeding, I’m going to hemorrhage every bloody detail of my sordid past out all over Lucky. Despite my gut telling me I can trust her, I’m not willing to take that risk.
Her phone buzzing in her pocket saves me from having to. She pulls it out and sends a quick text. “I’ve gotta go,” she says when she looks up at me, and there’s something a little mournful in the words.
“See you in L.A.,” I say, backing up the sidewalk.
She swings around the pole to the other side of the chain link fence and looks back at me. “Barring a bus crash, I’ll be there.”
A smile I can’t stop curves my mouth. “Can’t kill an angel.”
Lucky grabs the fence and doubles over laughing. “Did you really just say that?”
I rub the back of my neck and feel the cringe on my face. “Yeah…that was pretty lame, wasn’t it?”
“Um…yeah.”
“I’ll have to do better next time,” I say, scratching my head as I back away a step. “See you tonight.”
“Have a good flight,” she says, lifting her hand in a sort of wave. Or maybe it’s the signal to stop, because something in her eyes is giving that definite vibe.
“No such thing,” I say, still trying to read her. Because, fuck. If she’s feeling what I am…I’ve never wanted to kiss someone as much as I want to kiss Lucky right this second.