Get Off on the Pain(57)

“What are you doing here, father? I have work to do. I don’t have time for your shit.”

He takes a deep breath and I can tell he’s trying to push back his anger. He’s not used to people refusing to listen to him. He’s used to getting everything he wants. “I want you to come have dinner with me so we can spend some time together. Whether you believe it or not . . . I miss you.”

I shake my head and bite my bottom lip. I want to scream at him and tell him to fuck off. I don’t need him, but a part of me feels bad for him. No one truly respects him. They all fear him. He’s alone in this world and he expects me to love him, when really I just despise him. “Are you still in the business?”

He steps up to me and grabs for my hand. “Lyric, let’s not talk about that. There are plenty other topics of conversation.”

I yank my arm out of his reach. “Then the answer is no. Do you not realize that you ruined my damn life, that I had feds constantly hounding me to give you up when you ran from Chicago? They contacted me again four months ago. It’s never fucking going to end. Do you get that?” I shove him toward the door. “You wanted me to fight. Well here.” I point at the door. “Get out of my life.”

“Lyric.” He grits his teeth and gets ready to say something else, but the door opens and Bailey and Liam walk in.

My father just shakes his head and fixes his suit, while walking toward the door. “I’ll be back, Lyric. I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me. You’ve got one week.”

I look to Bailey, who is staring my father up and down as if she thinks he’s hot. Fucking gross. I then turn back to my father. “Goodbye,” is all I say before shutting the door. I can’t do it. I won’t. He’s no good. He ruins lives. That’s all he’s ever been good for: hurt, pain, and suffering.





ALEX PUTS HIS TRUCK IN park and we both just sit in silence for a while, neither one of us making an effort to move. This will be the first time that we have both come here together. It hurts. I admit it. It feels as if my heart is being ripped straight from my chest. I can tell he feels it too. I can see it in his expression.

This place is my weakness, the one place I allow myself to feel vulnerable. My walls crumble here, making me feel useless, and making it hard for me to breathe. I need to push it aside to be strong for Alex—for my mother.

How can you help someone when you can’t even help yourself? How can you fight when you’re not even sure you want to win? I’m so fucked up that I’m not even sure I know what I’m saying. Every day is just another day that I’m chugging along, and riding this fucked up ride we call life.

Well, where the hell do I get off?

Pushing back my emotions, I reach in the back for my guitar, grab Alex’s shoulder and squeeze, letting him know that I’m ready. No bullshit this time. I can’t run off like a pussy again. I need to face her, to let her know that I’m sorry.

“All good, man?” Alex grabs the back of my neck and squeezes, as I look straight ahead with my jaw steeled.

“All good.” I push my door open and swallow. “Let’s go.” Hopping out of the truck, I sling my guitar over my right shoulder and walk side by side with Alex. With every step that we take I feel my heart breaking more, making my throat burn with the emotions I’m trying to keep hidden. Something about being here with Alex makes it feel more real. It’s a huge dose of reality and it fucking sucks.

My eyes stay zoned in on my mother’s headstone, even before we get close enough to see it. I just keep my eyes locked, knowing that it’s there. I can feel it in my heart. I could never forget where she is. I have a feeling I could find her spot even with my eyes closed.

It’s cooler than the last time we were here, a little too cold. The wind is blowing, sending a shiver up my spine. It reminds me so much of my mother and what she taught me as a young man.

Stepping up to her grave, I grab her jacket out from under my left arm and carefully drape it over the ground above her. My eyes unwillingly start to water as I kneel down and place my hand on the ground between my knees so that I can get closer to her.

“It’s cold today,” I whisper. “I remember you always told me to never let the ones you love go cold. You said to keep them warm and close to your heart, that way they’ll never forget how much they mean to you. That’s what you always said when you used to put your jacket on me when you caught me outside without one. You always were the most loving, caring woman I had ever met.”

I close my eyes and remember the feeling I got as a child when she would drape me in her coat to keep me warm. It made me feel safe and loved, because I knew her jacket was always close to her heart. “I haven’t forgotten,” I say softly. “I remember.” I take a deep breath and slowly release it. “I’ve met someone a lot like you. She’s tough . . . a fighter. She doesn’t seem to give up so easily on the ones she cares about, no matter how hard you try to push her away. That was one of the things I always loved about you, and to this day I still do. You never gave up on any of us, even when you should have.”