Chapter 28
LIAM
I watch Charlie walk away like she’s carrying the weight of the damn world on her back. She looks defeated in a way no one should ever have to feel. Her shoulders curl in, like she’s trying to hold herself together and barely managing.
And fuck me if that doesn’t sit wrong.
Sighing, I turn back toward the group of friends waiting for me.
Olive, my best friend and business manager, cocks her head. “Who was that?”
“A friend,” I say, the words tasting heavier than they should. I glance back over my shoulder, even though she’s already swallowed by the darkness and the crowd. “I’m heading out.”
Someone cracks a joke about me sneaking off to hook up with a groupie. Normally, I’d throw one back and disappear with a wink and a grin. But tonight?
Tonight isn’t like the others.
I step away and pull out my phone, already dialing.
Phern answers on the second ring, her voice sharp. “What? ”
“Nice to hear from you too. Where are you?”
“Driving to the ranch. I forgot to pack my swimsuit for L.A.”
“Perfect. I’m coming to you.” I hang up before she can argue or shut me down.
Climbing into my truck, I hit the road, windshield wipers working overtime against the rain. With one hand on the wheel, I try calling Sam again. Straight to voicemail.
I try a second time. Still nothing.
“Damn it, Sam,” I mutter, gripping the wheel tighter. “Pick up.”
He won’t. Not tonight. And with every mile I drive, one thing becomes clearer. Something’s been twisted out of place. And Charlie’s standing right in the middle of it.
And I think I finally know who’s to blame.
I pull into the ranch just as Phern is climbing out of her car, her jaw already tight with irritation. She waits for me under the porch light, arms crossed and body practically vibrating with attitude.
“What was so important that you had to come all the way out here?” she snaps, not even bothering with a hello.
I step out into the rain and meet her gaze head-on. “Charlie was at the show tonight.”
That catches her off guard. Her face flashes with shock, but just for a second. Then it hardens into something colder.
“That woman can’t take a hint,” she bites out, turning for the front door.
I follow close behind. “She said some real interesting things, cousin. Like how you’re the one who told her to leave while Sam was in Nashville. That’s a pretty different version than the one Sam shared with me. ”
She tosses her keys on the entryway table and shrugs, flippant. “Tomato, tomato.”
“So it’s true?”
She doesn’t answer. Just walks deeper into the house like the conversation’s over. I shut the door behind us, jaw clenched.
“She was still writing the damn story, Liam.” Phern whirls around, eyes sparking. “Some skeezy guy showed up, asking for her by name. Wanted details. So I protected Sam.”
“It’s been two months,” I say, voice low. “Two months, Phern. And there hasn’t been a single word written about Sam except what his team’s put out.”
She narrows her eyes, defensive. “She probably got scared. Chickened out after I called her bluff.”
“She said she’s been writing him,” I say. “Sending letters. Is that true?”
Her mouth flattens. “As the president of his fan club, you know I screen the letters. Standard protocol.”
“You didn’t give them to him?” I ask, barely keeping the disbelief out of my voice.
“I didn’t open them,” she shoots back.
My stomach sinks. “Jesus, Phern.”
“What?” she challenges. “I was doing my job. You know how much crap gets sent to him. I wasn’t going to let her sneak her way back in.”
I stare at her. Really stare. And for the first time, I see the fear behind the fire. The way her fingers tremble, just slightly, as she pushes her hair out of her face.
“You ever stop to think about what Uncle Billy would’ve said about all this?” I ask, quiet now.
Her head snaps up like I slapped her.
“Don’t you dare bring up my father. ”
But I don’t back down.
“Your dad believed in second chances. Hell, third and fourth ones too. He wouldn’t have turned away someone Sam clearly loved.”
“He didn’t know her, Liam!”
“No, but neither did you. But that didn’t stop you from deciding for everyone.”
She swallows, hard, blinking fast like maybe she’s fighting off tears now.
Silence falls between us, heavy and sharp.
And I realize this isn’t just about Charlie. It’s about control. About fear. About Phern trying to keep the pieces of their family intact the only way she knows how. By not letting anyone else in.
But all she’s done is help break Sam’s heart.
And I’m not about to let that stand.
“Get the letters.”
“No.”
“Get the fucking letters, Phern.”
She flinches at my tone but stomps out of the room. I follow in case she gets any ideas, like tossing them into the fire. She goes to her office, to her desk. Opening the top drawer she pulls out a literal stack.
“Jesus,” I mutter. “Read them. Now.”
I don’t think she’s going to at first, but, with a sigh, she opens the first one. Her hands shake as she unfolds the envelope, the paper already soft and worn around the edges. For a second, she just stares at it like the words might burn her before they even leave her lips.
Then, finally, she reads.
“Dear Sam, I thought I saw you today at the local farmer’s market. Silly, I know. The man had on a cowboy hat and looked like you from behind. But when I touched his shoulder, it was someone else, and I was still alone.”
Her voice wavers, eyes flicking toward me.
“Keep going,” I say, more gently now.
She swallows and reads the rest. Then the next. And the next.
“Each night I go to sleep crying because you’re not there.”
“The new song you played… it’s beautiful, Sam. I know it’s the one you played for me.”
“Everywhere I go, there you are. On the radio, in magazines, on talk shows. But that’s not the version of you I want. I want the man who held me during the storm.”
By the fourth letter, her voice has dropped to a whisper. She's blinking fast, mouth tightening.
She reads the one about Broken Heart Creek, about Sherry saying Sam hadn’t been sleeping. She reads the one about the job offer and how Charlie wanted to turn it down because it felt like giving up on him.
She reads the letter where Charlie says I love you like it’s the only truth she has left.
By the time she reaches the last one, she can barely speak.
Her voice cracks on the words. “I’m fading without you, Sam. I love you. Love, Charlie.”
Phern folds the letter with trembling fingers and just stands there, silent. Crushed. Like she finally gets it.
“She wasn’t lying,” I say quietly. “She never was.”
Phern nods once, a quick jerk of her head. Her jaw trembles, and then she turns to me.
“I fucked up.”
“Yeah,” I say, not to be cruel, but because we’re past the point of pretending otherwise .
“What do I do?”
I pause, then reach for the whole stack of letters and tuck them under my arm.
“You don’t do anything. I do.”
“But I need to fix this.”
“Phern, he’s not going to be happy to see you.”
She squares her shoulder. “I understand. But I need to make this right.”
I stare at her, nodding.
“Then let’s get to L.A.”