Parker grabbed my hands and pulled them toward his lap. “I’m not siding with anybody. I just want you to step back from your anger for one second and imagine if it wasn’t her. What if Randy or one of his guys got in our room and planted it? Wouldn’t you feel shitty for accusing Jade then?”
“The facts speak for themselves. I don’t care if it’s shitty to accuse her. I live by the phrase, ‘Apologize later.’ I am going with my gut here, and my gut says it was her.”
“Okay, babe. Then it was her. What do you want to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean are you going to let it ruin your day, the tour, your life? Are you going to confront her? Are you going to let it go? What’s next?”
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“Well sitting here with all this anger isn’t going to do anybody any good.”
He was right. The words were harsh to my ears, and it was certainly something I didn’t want to hear, but I couldn’t deny the truth.
“Subject change.”
“Verbal dodgeball?”
I nodded. “Deflecting the conversation from me back to you. Tell me more about Kimmy and your family.”
“I figured you’d at least let me get away with twenty-four hours before I’d have to give you more,” he said dryly.
“Nope. Spill it, my friend.”
“I’d rather not get into the subject of my family right now. Suffice it to say that Kimmy was adopted into my family and we grew close.”
I thought back to the snippets I’d written in my journal and the connection I had made. “Does she have anything to do with why your tattoos are all Chinese symbols?”
His eyes darted to mine. “Good guess.”
“What did you have to protect her from, Parker?”
“I already said I didn’t want to get into it.”
“So you had to protect her from your family?”
He stood from the bed and started pacing.
“You want the story? Here’s the goddamn story.” I was frankly shocked at his tone. I watched as his eyes moved around the room. His focus was on anything except me. I didn’t want to hear it like this, whatever his story was. I wanted him to tell me because he wanted to. But I’d pushed him, and now we’d gone too far to turn back.
He walked over to the minibar and pulled out a tiny bottle of whiskey. He shot it down before he started talking.
“I feel like I’ve been protecting people my entire life. Always from other people. Always people I care about who need someone looking out for them. Let me begin with my asshole father.”
He heaved in a deep breath, as if this was a struggle for him. He stopped near the window and gazed out. He leaned forward, his hands on the windowsill. I couldn’t help but take in his tall frame. He was always strong, but leaning forward on straight arms, elbows locked, showed his vulnerability. His black shirt stretched across his sturdy shoulders. I wanted to wrap my arms around him. I wanted to stop him from telling his story. I wanted him to know that he could wait, that he could tell me on his own terms. That he could come to me, that I would hold him while he spoke whenever he was ready.
And just as I opened my mouth to stop him, he continued talking.
“My dad resented me because it was my fault my mother couldn’t have another child after me. So they adopted Kimmy. Everything was fine when we were young, and then around the time we were in middle school, my dad lost his job. Rather than trying to find a new one, his life’s goal became getting to the bottom of as many bottles of alcohol as he could. He was a mean drunk—mean to me, mean to Kim, mean to my mother.”
He stared out the window, thinking about his past. His voice lowered. “Eventually it killed him, all the drinking. But not before he inflicted pain on everyone around him.”
“Oh God, Parker,” I said, wishing I had some way to comfort him. His body was rigid.
He stared out over the city of Chicago, the Windy City that he had called home for the majority of his life. I was trying to give him space, but I wasn’t sure if space was what he needed from me.
“I both love and hate coming back here. I hate what it means, what it represents. I hate my dad. I hate what he did to Kimmy, to my mom. To me. He was trash, and I grew up having to protect my sister and my mom.” He was lost in thought, expressing his innermost feelings aloud to me. This was a major breakthrough for us. It marked the first time he openly let me in.
But I could tell how difficult this was for him, and I felt guilty that I’d pushed him into talking.
His voice broke when he spoke again. “Except I failed where my mom was concerned.”
Failed? What did that even mean? I wasn’t sure how to break his monologue to ask. He’d revealed much more than I’d bargained for when I had started this conversation. I’d just wanted him to let me in. I had no idea what I’d been asking for, but if this was who he was, I needed to know.
I needed to know because I loved him. I wanted to know the beautiful parts of him, but I wanted to know the ugly parts, too.
I wanted it all.
“When my dad started drinking, I started writing. My lyrics are based on my life. My dad thought I was a sucker for trying to protect the people he was trying to hurt. He made me want to give up on everything, especially when he told me what he really thought about his son becoming a musician.”
His reference to being a “sucker” was immediately clear. The words tattooed on his torso flashed through my mind.
“Trial and Error” wasn’t about some broken relationship he’d had with a woman.
It was about his father.
I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure how to put the lid back on the can of worms I had opened. I had started this, and now that I knew the truth, I needed to see it through. I needed to find a way to provide the comfort that Parker deserved. He didn’t want pity. He didn’t want sympathy. He was too masculine for that shit. But he needed to be loved.
And as angry as I’d been about the lies for my protection and the omissions of truth, I knew that I was the one meant to love him.
I could sense the hatred he felt for his father. That had to be why he’d grown so close to my own dad. He’d only had his father’s presence in his life until he was in middle school; after that, he’d had to grow up far faster than anyone should have to in order to protect the women in his life. I still didn’t know what he had meant about his mother when he said he’d failed to protect her, but in time, I was sure I’d learn the truth. But this time I wouldn’t force it. This time it would be on Parker’s timeframe.
I stood and walked over to him. I touched his shoulder gently. He still gazed out the window, and our eyes met in the reflection of the glass.
“He killed her, if you’re wondering.”
I didn’t say anything, but I trailed my fingertips from his shoulder down his torso, and then I slipped both of my arms around his waist and gave him a hug from behind.
“It was an accident, but I blame him. I’ll always blame him. Do you have any idea what it’s like to blame someone for something that no one can ever change? I thought once he died that I’d forgive him, but I didn’t. I thought I’d pray for him to rest in peace, but I can’t.”
“You don’t have to, Parker.”
“I wish I could.”
I tightened my arms around him. The only thing I could think of to say was the one cliché I hated when I’d lost Katie. As I tried to think of the right words, he continued.
“She’d just taken the garbage can to the curb. It was dark out. She was in the driveway, and he didn’t see her when he pulled in from whatever bar he’d been trolling.”
I pressed my cheek against the back of his shirt. “And that’s how you lost her?”
He nodded. I didn’t see it because my eyes were squeezed shut, but I felt it.
“How old were you?”
He didn’t move. I felt his voice hum through his back. “Twenty-two.”
“My age. She’s only been gone six years?”
“Yeah. And my dad drank himself to death the night of her funeral.”