Chapter Sixteen #2
“What in the name of all things holy, do you think you are doing here?” she bites out, her voice a low, lethal whisper, like she’s holding back a scream with every ounce of control she has left.
There’s no invitation in her tone. No warmth. No forgiveness. She is Lyric’s shield right now, and I am the threat.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I’ve never had Rory direct her fire at me like this before, but I understand exactly why she’s this angry. She’s fighting for her friend, and no matter how much it stings, I’ll take it.
Every. Last. Bit of it.
Because I deserve it.
“Rory, I—”
“Don’t you ‘Rory’ me. My girl’s a mess in there. You threw a wrecking ball of epic proportions right through her fragile heart tonight. She doesn’t deserve whatever sick game you were trying to pull her into—”
“It wasn’t a game, Rory,” I interrupt, trying to defend myself.
Her eyes widen. “Oh, it wasn’t, was it? Then what’s your real name, Chase?
You think you can just tell your girlfriend of four months your name is something entirely different than what it actually is…
Chase Covington Jr.?” She says my name with pure and utter contempt.
“You think she’s just going to accept it and be like…
oh, yeah, that’s fine, just lie to me. And okay, sure!
I’ll put my beliefs and needs aside so I can sign with your motherfucking record label, you son of a bitch!
” Her tone goes from angry to mocking back to furious.
Rory is raging mad.
And I don’t blame her.
She finally stops her verbal assault, and I take a breath, steadying my thoughts. I could try to defend myself, but there’s only one woman I want to talk to right now.
Rory is not her.
“I need to see Lyric.”
Rory gawks as if I’ve just spoken another language. “Have you heard nothing I’ve just said?”
Starting to become impatient, I use a little more force. “This isn’t a request. Rory. I. Need. To see her. I have to make this right.”
She folds her arms over her chest. “No! You’re not coming in.”
“I don’t want anything to do with you,” Lyric yells from the other side of the door.
Oh, fuck!
My stomach tightens as I duck my head around Rory and push open the door, making her swat at my head. But I don’t care as she continues to slap at me. “I’m sorry, Lyri. You were never meant to find out that way.”
Her eyes catch mine as she sits up on the sofa, glaring at me.
“I should never have found out at all! You should have been honest with me from the start.” She turns her head away, breaking our eye contact while Rory continues to try to push me out the door, but I don’t budge.
“I don’t trust you, Chase. Our relationship was built on nothing but lies.
Built on the foundations of a fabrication you continued to seed.
You need to leave before I call the cops. ”
My body freezes. With my felony charge, anything to do with the cops is a bad idea.
I don’t need her finding that shit out as well at this moment, on top of everything else.
So as much as this kills me, I need to admit defeat and leave.
“I’m not giving up on us, Lyri. But I am going to give you time… I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I’m going to change my number,” she yells back through a heavy sniffle.
My heart sinks, my stomach churning with anxiety. God, I hope she doesn’t. “I’ll still call you tomorrow.”
“Fuck off, Chase Jr.!” Rory pushes me with all her strength, and seeing as I have now lost all of mine, I stagger out of the doorway, almost losing my footing before I stumble down the stairs. My heart rips apart hearing Lyric’s sobs again as Rory slams the door behind me.
I spin around and stare at the woodgrain, my body shuddering with pent-up frustration.
How did it get to this?
Hearing her sobbing cries through the door reminds me of the asshole I truly am.
I did that to her.
She’s falling to pieces all because of me.
We’re apart because of me.
Regrettably, I turn and head to my car, defeated.
How can a night that was going so fucking fantastically escalate into something so dramatic this damn fast? The woman I’ve fallen for, the woman I love, hates me beyond anything she’s ever known, and I don’t blame her.
She thinks I was in our relationship purely to sign her as an artist. She doesn’t know how wrong she is.
Yes, when she gave me her name, and I first heard her sing, I saw dollar signs for sure.
But when I listened to her story and knew what singing meant to her, I knew she was done with it.
However, most of all, telling her I was a producer would only make her think the worst of me.
And as time went on, it got harder for me to admit the truth.
I guess the longer I left it, the easier the lie felt on my tongue. Then coming clean just got harder and harder, knowing that when she found out, this exact situation would happen.
Do I wish I could go back, make it right? Yes, with everything in me.
But wishing never gets you anywhere.
I need to take action.
Pulling up to my lavish mansion in Beverly Park, I walk in feeling like this place isn’t my home anymore.
I’ve spent all my time at Lyric’s because her gorgeous place feels more like home to me than I have felt anywhere in forever.
This is a stylish mansion full of expensive belongings.
They’re just things, and they’re certainly not what makes a home.
I drag my sorry ass to the bar and pour a drink, the weight of what I’ve done sitting heavy in my gut.
What can I do? The fact of the matter is, as soon as she mentioned her full name, I knew who she was.
As soon as she started talking about her family, it confirmed it.
Her father, Stylo, is a huge ’80s rock icon.
I’ve met him. Had lunch with him. Hell, I even produced one of his more recent albums.
I know the two sides of the Griffin family coin.
Lyric’s version, the one of her childhood, where her father was completely absent, leaving Lyric alone to tend to her brother and sister, and that’s nothing but the truth. She felt abandoned. She felt like music stole her childhood and the life she should have had with her parents, with her family.
I know her father, and all he talked about while I was with him was his eldest daughter and how she’s the light of his life.
How everything he did and is doing was for her.
He was always on tour, so the money they brought in would give her and her siblings everything they could ever dream of or want, even though they’re all grown now.
He still wanted to provide for them, even if he didn’t always show it.
The only thing he didn’t realize was that she didn’t want materialistic things.
She simply wanted her parents and their love.
I lounge back in my big leather armchair, sipping on my whiskey.
I need to think.
Consider my options and weigh what I need to do to win Lyric back.
It’s dark. There’s not a light on in the house as I ponder, getting fueled more and more by my whiskey. The thing is, I think it’s helping because I have to come up with a plan.
A plan to get back in Lyric’s good graces.
And I need some backup to help me do it.