Her skin tingled with goose bumps. “Dear God.”
“Obviously, there’s no God if we have another damn Kagan on this planet. Isn’t one enough?”
She snapped her gaze to Nick, her fingernails white from her grip on the phone. “You have a Kagan sitting across from you.”
“You married into the name. Still think you’re insane there, but you know, your choice.” Nick stood up. “So you can see why his nuts are in a knot. I tried to talk to him about it, but he’s all ragey baby tiger. Thought you should see what you’re in for.”
She grabbed Nick’s wrist. “Do you think he’s related?”
Nick’s golden gaze drilled her into the seat with its worry and anger. He might act indifferent, but it was far from the truth. “If he’s not, he’s some crazy cousin somewhere, because that kid?” He nodded to her phone as Ian hit a note that made her swallow hard. “He’s a damn carbon copy of Simon as a teen.”
So much like Simon before. Before he blew out his voice, only there was just a touch more…polish, maybe? Like he’d had lessons from the damn cradle. All the things that Simon hadn’t been afforded.
Now he had the knowledge and the training, but he was forever behind the curve because there’d been damage to work around. And he’d done it brilliantly. She couldn’t be more proud of the darkness Simon had pulled himself out from underneath. But there was a piece of him that had been lost.
No matter how hard he worked, there was a small bit of something he pulled back and kept close to his heart. The child who had been beaten and verbally abused all his life still held a slice of himself away, even from her. And also from the stage that had stolen the very thing he loved with a purity he would never own up to.
She glanced back down at Ian Kagan with his perfect voice, perfect smile, and the swell to his chest, thanks to the adulation of the crowd. Again, so much like Simon when he was high off the feedback from the fans.
“Turn that douchehat off.”
Margo swiveled in her chair and clicked off her phone at Simon’s rage-filled face. She rose and crossed the room to him. “Li is on the phone.”
“I could give two fucks.”
“Simon.” The warning tone made his face go stony. He backed out of Nick and Lila’s room and back to theirs. Margo sighed. “We’re going to head over to the venue.”
Nick nodded. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” She rushed into their room and closed the door. “Simon. Don’t take it out on them.”
“Who the fuck should I take it out on?”
“Not me either.”
He fisted his hands at his sides. Anger vibrated off him like an overplucked string.
She didn’t think twice. Once upon a time, his fury would have dissuaded her. She would have left him to figure it out and calm down. But that wasn’t their way.
Not anymore.
She crossed the room and curled her arms around his waist, locking her hands at his back until they were touching from thigh to chest. She hooked her chin over his shoulder and simply held onto him.
He didn’t want to break.
Holding onto his anger was easier than feeling anything else.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You don’t know he’s your brother for sure.” She hugged him tighter when he simply stood there like a damn statue. She’d wait him out.
Finally, his arms came around her, crushing her tight. “What the fuck, Violin Girl? What the flying fuck?”
“I don’t know. Li will figure it out. You know she will.”
He pressed his cheek against the side of her head before bringing his hands up to cup her face and drag her mouth to his. His kiss was rough and still bursting with anger, but she took it. Swallowed it down until it spun out into that indefinable space between love and lust that sustained them through every rough patch they had to face.
The temptation to take him into the carnal realm where they could literally fuck it out swamped her. It would be easier to pop the bubble of intensity between them and let the orgasms whisk it away, but they didn’t have enough time for that.
Not when they’d need the extra time to figure out how to deal with this news.