A fresh surge of pain nearly paralyzed her. She’d believed him. Or maybe she’d been so desperate for someone to love her that she’d been blinded. But she had believed in him and his love for her. She’d wanted it so bad even when it baffled her.
She sat up in bed and wrapped her cold arms around herself and hugged as she rocked back and forth. A glance at the clock told her it was nearly two a.m. She laid her cheek on her knees and stared sightlessly toward the window.
She didn’t even know where her mother was buried.
The thought hit her like a thunderclap and she flinched from the realization. She’d been so focused on her own survival that she’d never gone back to see her mother’s grave. Didn’t even know if her life had been marked by a cold slab of concrete.
Had she been forgotten? Brushed aside as a county expense? Had anyone ever brought flowers to acknowledge the life, however short it had been?
Lyric struggled out of bed. Her clothes were wrinkled. She hadn’t changed. Blood stained her shirt. Her pants sported a new tear. She thrust her feet into a pair of flip-flops by the bed and went in search of Kane.
He wasn’t asleep. It shouldn’t have surprised her. The man was more machine than human. He was awake in the living room, a book propped on his knee.
He looked up when she entered and got to his feet with a frown.
“You look like hell, Lyric.”
She blinked at the personal assessment. It was very unlike Kane to offer more than a professional opinion. But it was clear that concern burned in his eyes.
“I need to go to Mississippi,” she said in a stark voice.
Kane’s brows drew together in a frown. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I have to go. Now. I’d like you to go. I may be crazy but I’m not completely without a sense of self-preservation. I’ll pay you. Of course. Your travel expenses. Whatever.”
Kane rubbed a hand through his hair. “Look, Lyric, you’re clearly distraught. No decision should ever be made under this kind of emotional duress. Get some sleep. If you still feel like you need to go tomorrow, I’ll take you.”
She turned, her back ramrod stiff. “I’ll go alone, then.”
A curse exploded from Kane and he crossed the room to grasp her arm. “What the hell is in Mississippi?”
She glanced dully up at him. “My mother.”
Connor’s phone rang at six a.m. He hadn’t slept a wink the entire night. He’d been too pissed and too worried. He reached for the phone he’d tossed on the couch and put it to his ear.
“Malone,” he said shortly.
“We’re coming over,” Gray said in his ear.
“Don’t bother,” Connor muttered.
“Fuck you.”
The line went dead and Connor slouched back on the couch. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. He should have slept. He had to be at his best to confront Lyric. She was going to listen to him, damn it.
He checked his watch. Two more hours. He’d give her two hours and then he was going to take no prisoners.
His doorbell rang and he cursed. Damn interfering friends. He dragged himself to his feet and went to open the door.
“Don’t look so happy to see us,” Micah said dryly as he shoved his way in.
“What the hell do y’all want?” he asked irritably.
“Our women heard of the hoopla. They’re all pretty pissed,” Gray said as he and Nathan came in behind Micah. “That was quite a scene yesterday.”
Connor sighed in resignation and slammed the door before turning to follow the guys into his living room.
“Is everything out?” Connor asked wearily.
Nathan’s mouth twisted. “Yeah, I’d say so. Or at least all the sordid details of her past. Julie’s ready to go kick some serious ass even though she has no idea whose ass she wants to kick.”
“Lyric thinks I sold her out,” Connor said bleakly. “She confided in me the night before. And then at the music store, it all came out.”
“That’s rough,” Micah said. “That had to be a huge shock for her.”
“I told her I loved her,” Connor bit out. “I laid it all out. How could she think I’d betray her like that?”
“I understand why you’re pissed,” Gray said carefully. “But Lyric doesn’t strike me as someone who has a lot of trust. In anyone. Can’t say I blame her if all that shit is true. You have to admit, the timing of it would cause a knee-jerk reaction.”
Connor dropped into a chair and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I get it. I do. I can see how it looks. It looks pretty damn bad.”
“The question is, who spilled her story to the media?” Nathan asked.
Connor scowled. “My money is on her fuck-head of an ex-manager. When she fired him, he threatened her. Told her he could bury her and that he knew things. If not him, then her ex-bodyguards are likely suspects, provided they knew of her past.”
“Want us to find out?” Micah asked a little too eagerly.
Connor surveyed the anger in his friends’ eyes and was grateful to have their support. “Yeah. Whatever you can do would be great. I’m going to be a little busy.”
Gray lifted an eyebrow and a smile glimmered on his lips.
Connor stared over at his friends, his expression resolute. “I’m going to make Lyric listen to me. I get why she thought what she did. I don’t even blame her. It pissed me off, but she was totally unprepared for that to come at her and she reacted. But I’m not letting her go.”
His friends’ faces broadened into grins. Gray chuckled. “I always knew that, of any of us, when you fell, you’d fall the hardest.”
Connor held up his middle finger and they burst into laughter.
CHAPTER 32
Lyric stood over the small, plain grave marker that was smudged with dirt and mildew. Weeds had grown over the plot so much that she’d had to shove them aside to even read the inscription.
It was short and to the point. No inspirational quote or little tag like loving mother, beloved sister or friend. Just her mother’s name and the dates of her life. Like she hadn’t mattered or she wasn’t important enough to rate something nicer.
The flowers shook in her hands. So much so that a few of the petals floated to the ground, marking a stark contrast between the dead, brown grass and the vibrant purple of the violets.
They were her mom’s favorite. She’d loved anything purple, but violets were her favorite and they’d grown wild in their yard. Lyric remembered picking them in the spring and her mother’s bright smile when she’d taken the limp flowers from Lyric’s two-fisted grip.
Lyric knelt and carefully arranged the violets in a decorative pattern. In the distance she could hear the sounds of cameras and shouted questions. Kane had done a wonderful job positioning his men to keep back the small crowd of reporters who’d flocked to the small town of Collins, Mississippi, the instant the details of her past had been made public.
Kane stood a short distance away, keeping to the side to afford her as much privacy as possible. Three of his men formed a wide perimeter around the grave and kept diligent watch on the crowd that the rest of the security team controlled.
“I’m making you a promise, Mama. As soon as I settle somewhere and have a home, I’ll make sure you’re moved. There’s nothing for you and me here. You should be somewhere happier. I’ll make sure you have a respectable headstone that celebrates the mother you were and that you died trying to protect me from a monster.”
Tears slid down her cheeks and made a pattern in the dust surrounding the grave. Her sobs caught painfully in her chest and her throat swelled with unbearable grief.
“I’ll bring you flowers. Violets and maybe some purple irises. I know it’s been a long time since we spoke. I spent so many years angry at you for leaving me. I was wrong. So terribly wrong. I wanted you to know that I did it. I became a singer. Just like you always wanted. I got to choose my new name when everything changed after the trial. I chose Lyric for you. As a promise that I’d fulfill your dream for me. I hope you’re proud of me. I haven’t done a lot to make you proud but I’m going to change that. You deserve more from the daughter you died protecting.”