Chapter 9
“ W e should go before we get caught.” Peace grabs my hand.
“Huh?” I register her words but only vaguely. Beside her in the lounge, my feet are solidly planted on the floor, but the rest of me is soaring on the currents of the music we just heard our dads create.
“Please, Bo.” She points at the band and tugs my hand. “They’re starting to put their instruments away.”
“Shit,” I exclaim. Of course they’re done. The song was fantastic. No further tinkering is necessary. Tempest is going to kick Brutal Strength’s ass.
“Oh, no.” Footsteps sounding, Peace dashes for the door with me in tow, but it’s too late.
“Hide,” I order. “There.” I shove her under a large end table that has a throw blanket from the nearby sectional partially draped over it.
“We’re going to get caught.” She stares up at me wide-eyed as I duck under the table too.
“It’ll be okay.” I draw her close. We both watch as her dad exits the recording room. I hold my breath as he walks past where we’re hiding. Giving Peace a squeeze, I exhale in relief, but unfortunately, it’s short-lived.
“What the hell, Peace Addison Jinkins?” War backtracks and stops right in front of the end table.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” She peers up at him, her eyes growing to spotlight size.
I lift my chin as my dad appears beside hers. I’m not going to cower. We didn’t do anything wrong.
“You know my studio is off-limits.” War stretches out his hand, and Peace takes it.
“I know.” Her voice warbles. He pulls her out. She raises her chin. He searches her gaze, apparently trying to figure out what her motivation was for disobeying him. She apologizes again. “I’m really, really sorry.”
Fuck this.
“It was my idea.” I climb out from under the table on my own. Straightening to my full height, I lock eyes with War. Bully is bigger than both of us.
“Was it?” He shifts his displeasure to me like I wanted him to. I rock like an avalanche slammed into me, but I stand my ground.
“Yeah, totally.” I square my shoulders and crank up my chin. “Stupid-ass rule, if you ask me.”
“Stupid, huh?” He seems to fight a grin as he studies me. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”
“We weren’t bothering anyone.” I spread my feet apart, withstanding the brunt of his anger and preparing to take the punishment, whatever it may be.
“Peace had nothing to do with you two coming in here, huh?” He cocks his head. “You forced her to come with you? Is that really what you expect me to believe?”
“Sure,” I declare flippantly. “Though I don’t care what you believe.” I just want to protect Peace.
“Is what he said true?” War refocuses on Peace. I throw my arm around her. She’s trembling.
“No, Daddy.” Peace meets his gaze. “It was my idea.” Her eyes glisten and her lips tremble like the rest of her, but she denies my involvement and takes the blame. No one has ever attempted to protect me after I’ve screwed up.
“That so?” War raises a skeptical brow.
“Bo wanted to hear you practice. I told him about your rule, warned him we had to be careful. I told him it would be okay. I didn’t think we’d get caught.” She starts shaking so badly she drops her journal.
“What’s this?” War scoops it off the rug before I can.
“It’s nothing.” With her cheeks as pink as the pen she used to doodle all over the cover, she glances away. War’s eyes, which are strikingly like hers, narrow. He’s not buying it. It’s obvious that the journal is extremely personal to her.
“Try again,” he says softly.
“Why are you being such an asshole?” I move between Peace and her old man and glare at him.
“Robert,” my dad snaps. I was so focused on protecting Peace, I forgot about him and didn’t even notice the others have gathered around us. “Come here right now.” He crooks his fingers.
“Fuck.” I turn my back on him. “It’ll be okay.” I take and squeeze Peace’s hand before turning around to face my father’s wrath.
“Sorry about Bo,” my dad says to War, while dropping a heavy hand on my shoulder. I feel his disapproval sink into my bones. “I’ll take him upstairs. Have a word. I promise he won’t come into the studio again.”
I jerk up my chin, trying not to let on, but something about how small he makes me feel must show on my face.
“Don’t be too hard on the kid,” my uncle Dizzy says. Moving beside War, he looks at me. “They’re just curious. It’s not like they’re breaking the law or doing drugs.”
Sager and King murmur their agreement.
Great, might as well have the whole band present to witness my embarrassment.
“Noted.” Dad acknowledges his bandmates, but his expression doesn’t lighten as he steers me toward the door. It shouldn’t bother me that he’s mad at me. But he’s not just mad. That I could handle. He’s ashamed to be my father.