Tone Deaf

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I mutter, even though it’s not true. Knowing I’m going to be alone all evening makes me feel just a tiny bit lonely, which reminds me that as soon as I get to New York, I’ll be completely on my own. And, hell, I’ve survived for years with hardly anyone to lean on. I know I can do it. But now that I have a glimpse into a life that isn’t so lonely, I don’t want to do it.

He gently traces my frown with his fingertip. “That doesn’t look like nothing.”

I sigh and shake my head. “It’s just . . . I’m going to miss you when we get to New York. That’s all.”

“Who says I’m going to leave you?” he asks.

My eyes widen. Could he actually plan on having me around for longer than just the tour? I mean, it will never work out, but still . . . that’s sweet. Probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.

“Thank you,” I murmur, unsure what else to say.

“You don’t have to thank me. I want to be with you.”

My cheeks flush a little, but I can’t stop myself from smiling. I reach up and run a hand through his hair, messing up his fauxhawk. He leans in a little closer, and I take the opportunity to kiss him.

His lips are firm and warm against mine, and he holds my face gently in his hands. This close to him, I can smell his sharp cologne and the woodsy scent that clings to his skin. He runs a hand through my hair, pressing me closer to him and intensifying the kiss.

After a long minute, Jace pulls away and gently strokes my cheek. “If I don’t leave now, someone is going to come looking for me, and they might find you.”

All the warmth rushes from my body, leaving cold nervousness. In Jace’s arms, it’s easy to believe I’m safe. But his words bring reality crashing back down—I’m still thousands of miles from New York and a long way off from being truly safe at all.

Jace frowns at my nervous expression and wraps his arms back around me. His hand rubs soft circles against the small of my back, and I close my eyes, leaning into him.

I stay there for a moment, but then pull away to sign, “What do I do if someone does find me?”

He lets out a long, slow breath as he considers this. Then he presses a gentle kiss against my forehead and signs, “We’ve worked well together getting you away from your dad. So if someone tries to force you to go back, we’ll deal with it the same way. Together.”





24


JACE


WHEN I FINALLY make it backstage, I’m swarmed by the stage crew. The rest of the band is already onstage waiting for me, and the crew buzzes around frantically, speed-talking through last-minute prep. I was planning on actually being on time for once, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave Ali. Usually, concerts turn me into a ball of energy and nerves, and I’m always anxious to jump onstage. But I would have preferred to spend this evening with Ali, who was peacefully dozing by the time I left.

The stage crew is officially freaking out as they recite instructions I already know by heart. Once I have all my mics set up and my guitar in hand, they all stop panicking and direct me toward the stage. Tony is waiting for me by the steps. He rushes forward and grabs both my shoulders in a vise-like grip, and I quickly shrug his hands off, shooting him an impatient glare. He pins me with a similar expression, but lowers his hands to his sides.

“You’re forty-eight minutes late,” he snaps. Tony gestures toward the front of the stage, where the rest of the band waits with all our equipment. Killer catches sight of me and waves. I don’t wave back.

“I got sidetracked,” I say, and start making my way toward the stage.

Tony walks beside me, his footsteps heavier than usual. “Jace, you can’t be late to your own concert.”

“I always am.”

“Yeah, five or ten minutes. This is different. You kept fans waiting for almost an hour. People are getting restless, and it’s your fault. Some people have already left.”

“Then they’re not true fans, and I don’t need them.”

I jog toward the steps leading to the stage. Before I reach them, Tony grabs my arm and yanks on it, stopping me. I curse and whirl toward him, my fists automatically clenching. He backs away a step, but his tone is sharp as he says, “Those people out there are your livelihood. And not just yours, but all of ours. Don’t screw things up.”

“I won’t.”

“You already are. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately, Jace. Something’s off, and I want to know what.”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

“The manager at that studio called to complain that you left early yesterday. He said you were rude to fans, which doesn’t surprise me, but he also said you ignored them. Since when do you ignore people? And then there’s that poor deaf girl you flipped off the other day.”

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