Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
TORI
M y heart pounds like it’s trying to break out of my chest.
I don’t even hear the announcer. Fueled by Alex’s words, I can walk onto the stage and into the bright lights. I thought surviving a freaking gun might make this easier, but right now, it doesn’t seem to matter.
A silence stretches across the room. I’m almost glad that the spotlight pretty much blinds me.
I take the mic from the stand and start stamping my foot on the floor in a steady rhythm. I’ve visualized and practiced this, but it’s different with the crowd looming in the semidarkness.
“Love,” I say, my voice cracking… which was intentional. I sound like I could cry. That’s good. “Is it a lie? In your eyes, I ask myself why—and how I can care this much and get scared this much when you’re a stranger to me. Cascading through me and you is something that should be tame. But when I look into your eyes and into my heart, I see the same… Feeling I should let it die. In your eyes, I can’t ask myself why I care or why I’m scared, because it all could be a lie…”
I put the mic to my foot and stamp even harder, mirroring the rhythm of my heart, my body flooding with emotion.
“Love!” I scream into the mic, causing people to jump. Good. I’m getting the reactions I wanted, at least. “Am I just your plaything? Your on-the-side surprise? If relations are a ship, are you ready to capsize? Are you spinning tall tales as we travel on small sails and tip these frail scales down false trails? Will it all end with a hurried collision of flesh? And then? And then? ”
Even I’m shocked by the emotion in my voice, the fact the mic is shaking in my hand.
“I was made a promise by Mama Bear’s isolation and her aspiration that love was real, and this… this is my deal: live alone, be happy loveless, and if you never kiss your one and only… At least you’ll never kiss devastation. Heartbreak, avoiding that pain, it’s my only, my only…”
When I rehearsed this, I knew getting teary and emotional at this part would help me. But I never planned on actually feeling this way, tears brimming in my eyes when I look down at Mom and Alex.
They both look rapt, completely fascinated as if they’re seeing a whole new side of me.
“Obligation,” I whisper into the mic. “But lately…” I smile away the pain, something else I rehearsed that feels far easier than anticipated. “There’s this guy who wants to date me. And when I think of my silver fox savior, I feel ever so faintly… Like love just might not, or just might…”
I lower my head, leaving it purposefully unfinished. My breath comes fast, and tears stream down my cheeks. I’ve never had a performance filled with so much genuine emotion. I didn’t have to fake anything about that. It came easily.
Suddenly, the crowd erupts into applause. I look up to see Alex and Mom on their feet, competing to see who can clap the loudest. I brush tears from my cheeks and then take a short bow.
Patricia, the host, touches my arm as we pass each other on the stage. “Just excellent , dear,” she says effusively. “Stunning and moving. You should be so proud.”
Back at the table, Alex stands, sweeping me into his arms. I’m caught up in the moment, spinning around, laughing in delight, feeling like I could take off. The high from the performance mixes with the high of simply being close to him.
“That was incredible,” Mom says. “Really, Tori…”
We sit, and then Alex takes his phone from his pocket. I’m sure I see the name ‘Catelina’ flash on the screen. My stomach drops, my good mood vanishes, and my thoughts spiral.
“I’m sorry. I have to take this.”
Mom must see the way I’m watching him as he walks across the bar. She touches my hand and says in a low voice, “Don’t let your thoughts get the better of you. You’ve got no idea what that call is about.”
When Alex returns, all positivity has drained from his face. He looks much like he did in the alleyway when he went fully ferocious, ready to tear somebody apart.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Somebody threw a brick through the window of my beach house,” he growls. “No idea who, but it feels like too much of a damn coincidence.”
“You think it was Damien?”
“Like I said, I don’t like the coincidence. I need to go and check on Elliot. He must be terrified.”
I stand. “Let me come with you.”
Time seems to slow as I wait for him to say no, to invent some excuse, but then he nods. “I think you should come, too, Monica, since you’ve got a connection to the Kents. If this does have something to do with them, we don’t want to leave you unprotected.”
We leave the car and rush across the street. Alex pushes the door open and runs through the house. The beach house is beautiful, with incredible views of the ocean. The idyllic look of it and the events don’t seem to match.
Mom and I wait in the foyer. A woman approaches us, probably around fifty, with a kind smile and worry in her eyes. “Hello, hello,” she says anxiously. “I am Catelina, Elliot’s nanny. Sorry to disturb your evening.”
Elliot’s nanny…
Well, hell, Tori. See where paranoia gets you?
“Uh, nice to meet you,” I say, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot.
Mom gives me a ‘told you so’ look.
Alex returns, carrying a boy, arms wrapped tightly around him. Elliot looks around with an anxious expression. Alex puts him down. “Elliot, this is Tori and Monica, my… friends.”
“It’s great to meet you, Elliot,” I say, leaning down and smiling at him.
Elliot grins. “You’re pretty.”
“Elliot!” Catelina says in surprise.
“It’s okay, Cat,” Alex says. “I happen to agree. Why don’t you get them settled with something to drink? I’m going to call the cops.”