Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Rage started in his chest and spread before he could stop it, flooding through him until he felt it at the back of his throat.
Mira’s clothes were disheveled, her cheek cut, the skin around her wrists already darkening into the shape of a man’s grip.
His gaze dropped to her acoustic guitar, mangled on the floor.
“Why would Riley—what exactly did he do, Mir?” He moved closer, desperate to protect her even though he was too late.
“Riley’s my boyfriend, Jay.”
The words didn’t make sense. He heard them, but they wouldn’t arrange themselves into anything comprehensible.
“I’m sorry. What? Since when?”
She looked down at her hands. “A while.”
“How long is ‘a while’?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it fucking matters. Mira, how long?”
She started crying harder, pressing her face into his shoulder. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not—” Jay stopped, forced himself to breathe. “I’m not mad at you. Just tell me how long.”
“A few years,” she managed between sobs. “We—the guitar lessons—” Her voice broke completely.
The guitar lessons.
Jay’s mind flashed back to Riley offering to teach Mira when she was what, fourteen? Fifteen? He’d thought it was generous. He’d even felt relieved that someone else could look out for her while he and Ari were busy.
Busy getting drunk.
Busy being too fucked up to notice anything.
Other memories surfaced now: the way Riley always asked about Mira—where she was, what she was doing—and the way he’d offer to give her a ride home from shows, especially on nights when Jay was too wasted to do it himself. Jay had been grateful then.
Mira had started dressing differently around fifteen, caring about how she looked in a way she hadn’t before. Jay had brushed it off as teenage stuff.
And then there was how she’d gotten more withdrawn over the years. She’d stopped coming to him or Ari when she had problems. He’d told himself it was normal…that she was just growing up and getting independent.
“So it started then, and we’ve never really stopped.” Mira sat up, swiping at her face. “He surprised me tonight. Showed up in one of his rages.”
One of his rages. Like there had been others.
Jay thought about how Mira would flinch sometimes when Riley touched her shoulder in passing—a small reaction, barely noticeable.
There was that time he’d walked into the rehearsal space early and found Riley behind Mira, arms caging her in while she held her guitar.
His chest had been pressed against her back, his hands over hers on the fretboard as he showed her finger placement while sitting way too close.
Riley had casually told him he was showing her a barre chord, not moving away.
And Jay had nodded and set down his gear, thinking nothing of it.
That was how you taught someone guitar, right?
You had to show them the hand positions.
How many times had Riley used “guitar lessons” as an excuse to put his hands on her? How many times had it happened at his apartment, in his car, in the studio after everyone else left—while Jay was too self-absorbed to notice?
His hands started to shake. He shoved them between his knees.
“Mira,” Ava said softly, stepping over and kneeling to her eye level. “Did he…force himself on you?”
Jay’s stomach twisted violently. The urge to throw up nearly overwhelmed him. He was losing control of everything again.
Mira stared at her lap. “It’s easier to let him do what he wants so he’ll leave.”
Jay bolted from the couch at that, a frustrated shout bellowing out of him. “What do you mean, let him?!”
Mira flinched. “He’ll keep pushing until he really hurts me.”
“How often do you let him hurt you, Samira?”
Mira’s face crumpled. She made a sound like she’d been punched, then buried her face in her arms and curled into herself, sobbing harder than before. Ava’s eyes cut to him, her mouth pressed into a thin, furious line.
He knew that look. He was making this worse.
He’d just accused his sister of being complicit in her own abuse.
But his chest was too tight. He was suffocating.
Fifteen years. He’d known Riley for fifteen years. They’d played music together. He’d called him his brother. And for years—since Mira was barely in high school—Riley had been—
“If you didn’t consent, we need to report this,” Ava said, her voice the only steady thing in the room.
“I let him,” Mira cried. “I gave in.”
“Giving in isn’t the same thing. We have kits at the hospital that—”
“I’m not going to the hospital!” Mira snapped. “I want to go home.”
Jay focused on breathing.
Four counts in, hold, four counts out.
He couldn’t fucking count right now.
“Mira, let’s do this the right way,” he tried, but his voice came out strangled. “He—”
“Shut up!” she barked.
The world tilted harder.
He’d already lost Ari. He couldn’t lose Mira too.
“Mir…” he started, but her fierce glare silenced him.
Ava’s hands stayed in Mira’s lap. “Are you sure you don’t want to get some sort of documentation, just in case you want to go back and press charges? I’ll be your witness.”
Mira shook her head. “I’m not pressing charges.”
“Why not?” The words exploded out of Jay before he could stop them. “He’s a pedophile piece of—”
“Jayesh.” Ava’s voice cut like a blade.
He shoved his hands in his back pockets, trying to hide how badly they were trembling now. The rage had nowhere to go, so it kept building pressure behind his ribs.
“I’m not pressing charges,” Mira repeated defiantly. “It’s—it’s too complicated. I love him and—”
“You love him?!” The disbelief choked him. “This has been going on for years, and I was right there. How…”
“Because we hid it.” Mira’s brows scrunched. “He said—he said you and Ari would make him leave the band if you found out. That I’d ruin everything for everyone. So we were careful.”
“Careful,” Jay repeated, the word tasting like acid.
“I’d stay at his place and tell you I was with Maya or at school.
And when we were all together, at practice or shows, we just..
.” She wiped at her face. “We acted normal. Like nothing was happening. And after I turned eighteen, when we could have told people...” Mira’s voice got smaller.
“By then, he didn’t want anyone to know.
Said it would mess up the band dynamic. That it was better to keep it a secret. ”
“Mira—”
“But this—the way you’re reacting—is exactly why I never said anything. Riley said he’d get in trouble and—”
“Of course he’s fucking getting in trouble. He preyed on you!”
“It’s not like that. It’s not…” Mira’s voice broke and fresh tears appeared.
He knew every word out of his mouth was driving her further away, but the image of Riley touching his baby sister wouldn’t leave his head.
Ava shifted gears. “Mira, how did you get here tonight? Did you drive?”
“Rideshare,” she mumbled, now gripping Ava’s fingers so hard they paled to white.
Ava then looked at Jay. “Did you drive?”
He shook his head, not trusting his voice. The shame was radiating in waves. He was supposed to be the strong one who protected Mira. Instead, he’d yelled at her, made it worse, and left her, for years, to the whims of Riley fucking Thorne.
Ari would’ve been better at this. He was steadier and someone Mira could lean on without things cracking apart. Jay wanted to reach for his phone before he remembered why he couldn’t.
“Okay, I’ll get you guys home,” Ava offered. Then to Mira, she said, “Would you be okay if I checked you over at home, just to make sure nothing’s seriously wrong? No hospital, only me. And only if you want.”
Mira hesitated. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course.”
Ava squeezed Mira’s hands before letting them go and making her way to Jay. She touched his elbow, but it didn’t soothe him. He was too wound up—a string on a guitar pulled so tightly it would snap at whoever strummed next.
“Let’s make sure she has everything packed and get out of here, okay?”
Ava’s green eyes darted between him and Mira, and Jay saw the pity there for them both. He knew those eyes well enough to read every subtle shift and every soft flicker of pain.
They gathered Mira’s scattered belongings: some makeup, her phone, a backpack, and a pair of shoes.
Jay watched as she bent to collect her guitar, which now lay in pieces.
Its neck dangled, barely attached, with only the strings straining to hold it together.
Without a word, she walked over to the trash can and dropped it in.
Jay threw her backpack over his shoulder, and Mira slipped on her hoodie, pulling the hood over her head. Ava retrieved her car keys from her pocket and led the way out the back door.
They trudged up Commerce Street in silence. The quiet was unbearable, but anything they could say felt worse.
Jay’s mind wouldn’t stop.
Riley always on the phone with some girl he swore was a casual fling, never saying her name. Jay had never thought to ask why.
Mira suddenly turning up to band practices after their first small tour, when she’d never cared before. Jay had been glad to have her around.
The pet names. The way they always seemed to have already talked before Jay could get a word in with his own sister. The way Riley would answer for her sometimes, just enough that Jay had never noticed.
Last year, while the band was on hiatus—Mira’s broken ribs.
Tripped down some stairs, she’d said. Ari had been the one to take her to the hospital and stay with her.
Jay had been in rehab, too far away to be of any use.
He’d been grateful she had Ari. He’d also been grateful when Riley sent flowers to the condo, had even texted him to say thanks for looking out for her.
He wanted to put his fist through something.
Would any of it have mattered if he’d paid attention? Would she have told him sooner if he’d been someone worth telling?