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We were driving up from St. Louis after the show when Parker asked me a question. We were lying in the bed in the back of the bus together. It was about a five hour drive from St. Louis to Chicago, and Parker’s exhaustion was starting to show. In these quiet moments we had together, the down time, he spent more time sleeping than anything else.

I didn’t mind. It was peaceful to watch him sleep soundly beside me. And I knew the only moments of peace he allowed himself were when he knew I was safely by his side.

He’d been essentially working double duty for months, focusing on his band’s rising success while simultaneously working as my personal security guard.

We were both nearly asleep when his question slipped out.

“Can I take you home to meet my sister?”

“Of course. I’d love to meet her.” I’d immediately replied, but about a million questions darted through my head instantaneously.

For starters, why was he taking me home to meet his sister and not his parents?

That only led to more questions. Where were his parents? Why had he never told me about them? Why didn’t he want me to meet them? Were they still around? Were they married? Divorced?

I could’ve gone on and on, but the only person who could answer those questions was Parker. And almost as soon as I had answered his question, his breathing had evened out. He was asleep, and I was wide awake considering his question and every little silent meaning that was behind it.

We awoke on the bus in Chicago. The buses were parked behind the Allstate Arena. Black Shadow always had a deal with each venue to arrive a day early for set-up, although the crew had it down to a science. It wasn’t necessary, but it was cautionary. Since they’d been together for as long as they had, Black Shadow knew how to run a tour.

I had a text from my dad that said George was ready to take us wherever we wanted to go. Parker said he had some plans for us for our one free day in the Windy City.

And apparently that included meeting his sister.

We stepped off of the bus into a nice, seventy-five degree day. “This isn’t typical for Chicago. Usually it’s raining or more humid than hell,” Parker said with a smirk as he helped me into the back of the car George had already managed to procure to drive us around for the day.

I knew my dad was only being cautionary by keeping George with us, but I kind of wanted to explore Parker’s hometown with just Parker. I didn’t want a third wheel hanging around.

And then I thought about Keith and Vanessa. They’d gone out in New York, just the two of them, and the results had been disastrous. I wasn’t willing to risk Parker’s safety for a frivolous non-chaperoned tour of Chicago.

It made me wonder how long this was going to go on and when just the two of us would ever be able to go out alone.

Parker gave George directions, and then he joined me in the backseat. We traveled around for a half an hour or so. We passed a Hard Rock Café, and then George pulled around another corner and parked the car. Parker grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the backseat, a boyish smile lighting up his face.

“Where are we going?” I asked, jogging to keep up with Parker’s fast pace as he dragged me around the corner.

“My favorite restaurant of all time,” he said.

I turned around and saw George walking at a clipped pace, his eyes scanning everything as he kept pace with the two of us.

I read the name on the outside of the restaurant: Portillo’s.

The music inside was fast-paced and the air smelled of greasy deliciousness. “What do you order?” I asked.

“They’re famous for their hotdogs, but I always get the Italian beef sandwich and fries. And the chocolate cake shake. It’s the best meal you will ever eat.”

“You just order for me. The best stuff on the menu, okay?”

Parker smiled and leaned in for a quick kiss. I started to walk away, and he grabbed my elbow. “Where are you going?” he asked, the smile fading as panic took over.

“To the bathroom. Do you need to follow me there, too?”

He sighed. “No, but if I don’t, George will.”

“Parker, I’m right here. We’re in the same restaurant. Nothing bad is going to happen. I just have to pee.” I patted his arm, trying to be placating, but the panic didn’t leave his eyes.

If I ever had any doubt as to his feelings for me, that panicked look in his eyes would definitely have erased it. It would have been convincing enough to prove to me that he truly did care.

Unfortunately, I was wrong. I told Parker that nothing bad was going to happen, but something bad did happen.

My phone started ringing as I was washing my hands. My hands were too wet to answer, so the call went to voicemail. As I dried my hands under the blower, my phone started ringing again.

I wiped my hands on my pants and grabbed my phone out of my pocket. It was my dad.

“Hey, Dad,” I answered.

“George doesn’t leave your side today, okay?”

I sighed in frustration. “How is this different from any other day?”

He ignored my question. “I found your journal.” He paused, and my heart sped up. He found it? Where the hell had it been? “It’ll be waiting for you with me in my room when you get here.”

“Where was it?” I leaned against the wall, glad the bathroom was empty during my conversation.

A few seconds of thick silence passed between us.

“Where, Dad?” I whispered, my hand gripping my phone tightly.

“In one of Jadyn’s bags.”

I slid down the wall until I felt the floor beneath my ass. I wasn’t sure what to say. “I knew it” didn’t seem appropriate. “I told you so” seemed even worse.

So instead I said nothing, trying to come to terms with the fact that I’d been betrayed by someone who was supposed to be on my side, someone who was supposed to be in my inner circle.

I didn’t know what else that meant. I didn’t know how bad the damage would be.

I knew that I couldn’t trust her from the very beginning. I just wasn’t sure what she would want with my journal.

What the hell was she up to?

My dad’s wedding day popped into my head. I’d forgotten that I’d overheard her in a whispered conversation in a secluded hallway, and suddenly now seemed like a good time to tell my dad.

My dad broke the silence stretching between us. “We don’t know how it got there—”

I cut him off. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“‘We don’t know how it got there.’ You say that like she didn’t do it.”

He sighed audibly over the phone. “I don’t think she did, CC.”

“My fucking journal was in her bag and you don’t think she took it?” I stood from my position on the floor, anger fueling my thoughts. “Do you think it just grew legs and magically walked over there to make it look like she did it?”

“I don’t know what happened. I just wanted you to know that I found it.”

“Do me a favor and don’t read it. And don’t trust that bitch you married.”

“Hey,” he said sharply. “You don’t know her. At all. You haven’t bothered to give her the time of day and you don’t reserve the right to call her a bitch.”

“You know she was sneaking around on your wedding day? You know she was whispering to some man I don’t know that she’d be in touch with him? Maybe I don’t know her, Dad, but you need to watch yourself around her. Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think you do.”

He sighed heavily but didn’t respond to my accusations. “I’ll figure out what happened.”

“Whatever.” I hung up. He called back, but I had nothing further to say to him. He didn’t leave a voicemail.

My dad was one of my best friends in the world. He was my rock. I depended on him.

But lately, my relationship with him felt an awful lot like a series of letdowns.

Parker had become my new rock. While no one could ever replace my dad, Parker had become the one man who I depended on the most.