He knew she was trying to back him into a corner. He knew he should either kiss her or walk away and that anything else was just picking at the pink puckered beginnings of a new scab. He wanted to rip the wound open and have it done with so it could heal properly.
“You said you’re never frightened. I think you’re frightened all the time. All your tough talk, your smart mouth, your ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude, it’s there to hide a scared little kid who’s weak and wounded, and running from the truth.”
Her eyes widened, she took a step back from him. He could see he’d scored a direct hit and it should have been enough. But it wasn’t. All he had left in him tonight was being a jerk. “A terrible thing happened to you and you never got over it.”
Her chin came up. “Yeah, so you can read. The accident is in every profile ever written on us.”
“Yeah, I read about it.” He sneered, snatching a fist full of the curtain. He was done with this. Done with her. “What I know is Rand got past it—you never did. He grew up; he owns his life. You’re still fourteen years old and shit scared and not tough enough to learn how to live a life you care about.”
He yanked the curtain aside and Rielle’s hand shot out to grab his arm. “You don’t get it. If only—”
He shook her off. “No, thank Christ. Getting you is outside my job description.”
25. Performance Anxiety
Though he was reluctant to take his eyes off Harry, unless it meant seeing Stu pulled down a peg again, Rand saw Rie and Jake argue through the filmy cabana coverings. He saw heads pressed forward, necks straining, hands flying. He saw Rie grab at Jake and Jake shake her off and walk out. He saw passion and frustration and anger and he wished they’d just fuck each other and get it all over with. But when Rie didn’t leave the cabana, he got worried, excused himself from Harry and went in after her.
“That spray on stuff you wear is good, but I still know you’ve been crying,” he said
She looked up, her eyes were red and she was sniffling. “You’re a friggin’ genius.”
He sat beside her. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t want to be here.”
He sighed. “Yeah, tell me something new.”
“I think I screwed up with Jake.”
He grimaced. That wasn’t news. “How’s it different to what you’ve been doing since you met him.”
Rie stood up. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to know you’re okay.”
“I had a fight with Jake that’s all. Of course I’m okay.”
“You’re not. We’re getting closer to Sydney and you’re spinning the freak out.” He gave the word ‘freak’ a rolling r in an attempt to bring the temperature down, talk her off the ledge. One look at her, face screwed tight with tension, was enough to tell him he’d failed.
“Fuck off, my performance is totally nailed.”
He sighed. “It’s not on stage that’s the problem.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? On stage is all that matters.”
He groaned and patted the space beside him. “When did you start believing that?”
She sat. “You don’t believe that?”
He rested his head on the lounge back and stretched his legs out. “Nope. On stage is just part of it. If I thought that’s all there was I’d have blown my brains out by now.”
“It’s all that matters to me.”
He turned his head to look at her. She was her own worst nightmare and always had been. But he’d never seen her so twisted up. Rie didn’t do vulnerable, but she was swollen with it now. She hadn’t done it at fourteen or at sixteen when Dad died or any time since then until they landed in Adelaide, and then it was like some well of emotion she’d kept bottle-stopped had the seal broken open. He didn’t know how to deal with her like this and it worried him senseless.
“You need to get yourself some perspective, little sister.”
“And how do I do that? We’re on tour. It’s all there is for the next seven months for God’s sake.”