Hard Freak

“Thanks, Polly,” I said.

She nodded without asking me what I thanked her for. I practiced putting on a smile. I checked the mirror. It might look sincere from a distance. I tried to bring my energy levels up. I’d be so much happier curled up in bed with a mountain of chocolate, but that was impossible. Not so long ago, I’d been bragging about how I was made for this life. Well, now was the time to prove that. I’d get up there and shine, no matter what. Anyone could shine when they were in the sun, but I had to shine in the darkness as well.

Before we got onstage, my stomach quivered. I knew what I had to do; I just wasn’t sure I had it in me to do it. I walked out there, though, to the cheers and the energy. I gulped, then I put up a wall in my mind. My personal issues and my sadness could stay behind that wall for a while. There was only me and these people. That was the relationship I had to worry about while I was on that stage.

A few times while we were playing, I glanced to the side, not wanting to search for Crow but not able to help myself. Of course, he never appeared. And every time I did it, the knife twisted in my heart. I couldn’t even pause when that pain hit. Pain was for the weak, though. I had no time for pain when I was in front of all these people. Instead, I bent down to the cameraman squatting on the stage, giving him a cheeky smile and a wink that got beamed up to the screens surrounding the place.

Every time I did that, the arena filled with screams and hoots. Okay, maybe I flashed a bit of boob leaning down like that, too. But all those screams fed me. They took away the pain for a little while.

We got through the set. I might’ve been a bit less energetic than usual, but I did it. I tried to scream, and I tried to joke. I might’ve even gone overboard on the sexy stuff to compensate.

“Well done,” Polly said as we walked off. “You proved yourself tonight.”

Her words were a glimmer in the darkness of my heart. That had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done, but I’d done it. I walked off that stage knowing I hadn’t let myself down, and I hadn’t let the fans down. I’d salvaged something from this mess.

The Freaks were still playing their set when I went back to the hotel. Even though my heart screamed to stick around and try to make things up with Crow, I had to get out of there.

But, when I got back to my room, there was nothing but emptiness. I turned on the television, but it annoyed me, so I turned it off again. Then I got on my phone, but that annoyed me too. I had so many photos of Crow and me together.

I tried reading, and I tried sleeping. Nothing worked. I rang room service and ordered a big parfait, but when it arrived, I couldn’t face eating it. I left it sitting until the ice cream had melted and it all became a big, sloppy mess. Much like my life.

Eventually, I heard the others return. I sat in the armchair by the window for a long time, hoping that Crow would knock on my door. He’d come to me. He’d tell me he forgave me, and things would be right between us. But would he? If he could let his sister walk away and not once in ten years try to contact her, would he bother to fix things with me?

When he’d told me that story, my heart had ached for him, but I’d missed the underlying message: he wasn’t a man who forgave. But forgiveness was the only thing I wanted.

Chapter 25

I WASN’T SURE IF CROW would answer the knock on his door. He’d know it was me. Maybe he’d pretend he didn’t hear it. I’d fought so hard to keep away from him, but my heart took me to his door even while my brain protested.

I jumped from foot to foot as I waited, unable to keep still. I wouldn’t knock again. I didn’t want everyone on the tour to think I was crawling back to him. I had my pride. But, damn it, I needed to talk to him.

Just when I’d almost given up, he opened the door.

“We need to talk,” I said.

He shook his head. “Go back to bed, Fay,” he said, as though I was a tiresome child.

The way he said that made something stir inside me. My sadness and disappointment turned to anger. Maybe I’d done the wrong thing, but he didn't have to be like this. Elijah was right. He had to accept me as I was, or we had nothing at all. But Crow had no acceptance to offer.