Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jace
My heart bangs in my chest. Zoe left with her father 30 minutes ago. I know he hates me, but everything I’ve done over the past several years has been above board. There isn’t one reason he’d be against us now. Is there? I rake a hand through my hair. I get that I’m older than her and that legally, I’m her step-uncle, but we’re not blood, and I didn’t watch her grow up from infancy, having some ridiculous obsession with her.
Shit. I shove my hands into my pockets. What if he forbids Zoe from seeing me?
Dude, she’s an adult. She can make her own decisions. This is not the Dark Ages or some century where a father bequeaths his daughter to another king for a bounty. Everything is going to be fine.
I walk over to the trashcan and pull out the balled-up piece of paper. The page where I wrote the lyrics to the song I sang on the beach two nights ago.
As I smooth it out, my shoulders relax. It’s a good song. And there were no twinges to need alcohol or drugs to put it down on paper or to sing it. It felt good. Like Landon said, it was as if I was back in high school, sitting in my room writing music. Back before I joined the band.
If I’m being honest now, after all these years, they were in it for the chicks and the free booze. If you’re popular, people buy you shit to get you to hang out with them. They got addicted to the lifestyle, and I drowned because they lost their ambition. Not that it was any better. I drowned in the same stuff, just for a different reason.
I grab the guitar the performers gave me, swipe my phone open, click on the camera app, and hit record before sitting down on the sofa and singing the song I wrote for her. Every note comes from my heart.
This time, I sing for myself. Yes, I’d love to get back into the business and finally fulfill a dream I’ve had since the first time I picked up a guitar, but that’s not as important as finding myself again.
Am I ready to step into the spotlight again? It’s the next step: writing and recording songs, trying to regain a following.
When the last note rings out, the door snaps open. I spin around, expecting to find Zoe, but instead, it’s her father.
“Jace.” His eyes are hard as his jaw flexes in anger. “I told you to leave her alone. I told you years ago to stay away from my daughter.” Seething rage flickers brighter in his eyes. “I told you if you left her alone, I wouldn’t destroy her to punish you. But here you are, violating that fragile trust we’d developed over the years. The fragile trust that has kept me from blacklisting you.” His eyes narrow. “Of course, you’ve managed to fuck up your career fine on your own. If you can call singing at a few random dive bars as a career.”
I rise from the sofa as my hands ball into fists. “I’m not trying to cause problems. I stayed away from her and haven’t contacted her once.”
“Until now.” He slaps his hands on his hips with his chest heaving. “You need to end things with her now.”
“No.” I match his stance, and for once, I’m not backing down. “I won’t. If she decides she doesn’t want to see me, then I’ll honor her decision. But this time, I’m not sacrificing my future because of someone else’s bullshit agenda. I love your daughter. She’s beautiful–”
“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes and waves his hand in the air. “They’re all beautiful. She’s a wet hole to screw. Find a different one.” His eyes bore into mine. “Because if she leaves me for you, I’m cutting her out of everything. Out of her position and future in my company. Out of my life. Out of her inheritance. Out of the music industry altogether. And you know that’s all she’s dreamed about since she was a kid.”
“Why?” Bile rises in my throat as I shake my head in disbelief. I understand him destroying me, but Zoe? His own daughter? It makes no sense.
“I have my reasons, and you’re not important enough to know what they are.”
“She can get another job with a different label.” My heartbeat makes the skin at the base of my neck bounce with each beat. He’s right. This has always been her dream. And she’s proud of what she does. Someone else will hire her. “If she quits, that means she’s chosen me…." I cock my chin up, refusing to let him intimidate me. This time, there’s no reason to be ashamed. “Over you. And there’s no way I’m walking away from her.”
“You’re a fool.” He laughs, sending a chill down my spine. “I’ve already planted the seed of doubt in her head. That blonde bombshell was a gift dropped onto my lap.” He smirks. “The one you hooked up with when you first got onto the island and again two nights ago after Zoe went to sleep.”
“I didn’t. I wouldn’t have done that, and she knows it.”
“Does she?” He pulls up his suit jacket and glances at his Rolex. “The story is hitting the press tonight. It’ll be everywhere by morning. There’s even a photo of you kissing the same woman at the airport before you left. She’s your girlfriend, and you’ve been using my daughter to get my label to notice you.”
“You fucking son of a bitch. None of that is true.” I stalk toward him, ready to beat the fuck out of his face, but he raises his hand. And out of respect for Zoe, I stop, rage flowing over me like a river.
“AI makes everything true. As do the messages between you and this woman who’ll swear in a court of law that it’s all true. The two of you did this so that you could get into Zoe’s pants, get a record deal, and then you and Miss Floozy could live happily ever after, raking the money in. All while my daughter loses everything.”
“You’re a fucking asshole.”
“Yes.” He nods. “Yes, I am.”
“Fuck you.” I raise my arm back, aim, and hit him in the cheek so hard his head snaps backward. But fighting him and ruining Zoe’s life and reputation aren’t worth it. I’m not worth it.
For a second, I pretended that I could come out on top. That we could come out on top. But he’s too powerful. The industry is too powerful, and I don’t have the money or resources to win. Just like in the past, he has the upper hand. But now, he can make anything true at the click of a mouse.
There’s no question he blacklisted me. But now, it’s about Zoe. She’ll lose everything she’s worked for. And to do what? Follow me to Vegas and work at a casino while I run security for Everleigh? “I hate you. You’re the most disgusting person I’ve ever met.”
“Good.” He laughs, sending a chill down my spine. “I don’t care who you hate as long as you stay out of Zoe’s life.”
I punch him twice more. Once in the cheek again and once in the gut. He grunts and doubles over, only to steady himself, yank a handkerchief out of his pocket, and wipe the blood off his face.
“That’s also going to the press. And the police.” He smirks. “I caught you in a lie. You got angry, and you beat up an older, out-of-shape man. That’ll only add to your reputation and solidify you’ll never break into the music industry.”
He sets down a baggie of white powder and dumps the contents onto the end table. “In a coke-fueled rage, you proved once again what a loser you are. The police will be here in a few minutes.” He lifts his chin upward. “Who do you think they’ll believe? Me? Or you?” He smirks. “Now, what are you going to do? Go peacefully by telling Zoe what she needs to hear to ensure she doesn’t spend one more second pining for you? Or spend the next ten years in a Saint Lucia prison for drug possession and first-degree assault, ruin her life, and continue to never amount to anything?”
Rage is too mild of a word to describe the lethal feelings coursing through my veins. I snatch up the crystal bottle of whiskey that never once tempted me while living in paradise, pop the lid, let the liquid burn down my throat, and hurl the bottle at his face. It only misses him because he dodges his head, smashing into the wall and sending splinters of glass in every direction. Fletcher’s hair and jacket are pelted with shards of glass and whiskey.
If I had another one, I wouldn’t miss.