I promised myself after Justin that I wouldn’t ever hit someone in anger again. But I decide shoving doesn’t count. My hands meet his chest, and I push hard. “Shut the hell up, Dad. I mean it.”
His face goes three shades redder, and he points a finger at me. “You better watch yourself, Daltrey.”
“No, you should watch yourself. Insulting the woman I’m in love with is not the way to get me to fall into line.”
He rolls his eyes. “Give me a break. You’re twenty years old.”
“And I’ve loved her for as long as I can remember. She’s the one that was there for me, Dad, when you were so busy building your band. She was the one that cared about me. She never equated my worth with my ability to play piano and make my family famous.”
“How dare you?”
“What do you want from me? I’m here, okay? I will be here through the end of the tour—”
“And then what? You go chasing after her? I knew she was trouble for you, knew it was for the best when she took off last year. The minute her father told me that she was in the hospital—”
“Wait—what?”
He looks away, the anger seeming to seep out of him ever so slightly.
“Did you just say her father told you she was in the hospital? When was this? When did you talk to Mr. Harris?”
He wears a distinctly uncomfortable expression for a moment, then he lifts his chin and looks me straight in the eyes. “He called me last June.”
“He… he called you? What the hell did he call you for?”
“He wanted me to give you Daisy’s contact information in the hospital. He thought it might help her, that she might respond if you tried to get in touch again.”
I have him up against the green room wall so fast I hardly realize I’m doing it. “Are you telling me that you knew she was in the hospital last year? And you didn’t tell me?”
He tries to push me off, but my anger gives me strength.
“You were recording your album, Daltrey. The last thing in the world that you needed—”
“I needed her! And she needed me! Her dad actually reached out to us? And you kept it from me?”
Suddenly, strong arms are pulling me away from my father.
“Okay, man,” Cash says. “That’s enough.”
“Did you hear him?” I yell, struggling against my brother. “I can’t believe you, Dad! You could see how broken up I was about her—”
“That’s my point! She’s too much drama for you. It’s not what you need.”
I finally succeed in pulling away from Cash and shove a finger into my dad’s chest. “You don’t have any idea what I need. And it’s certainly not your right to decide it for me.”
“Okay, let’s just take a break.” Reed’s calm voice sounds from the doorway to the wings. “Everyone needs to chill out.”
I spare him a glance and see that Lennon is behind him. I’m so mad I’m actually scared. The only time I’ve ever felt like this was when I went off on Justin. My hands are shaking. “I’m done,” I mutter, holding out my hands. “I’m fucking done.” I turn for the door.
“Daltrey!” Dad calls.
But I don’t pause. I slam out of the green room and into the dressing room, bypassing the main sitting area for a small back room. I sink into the closest chair, burying my head in my hands and trying to get a handle on my rage.
He knew. I can’t believe it. He knew that she was in the hospital, knew that she had tried to kill herself. And he kept it from me. For what? The band? What kind of father did something like that?
“You okay?”
I don’t bother looking up at Cash. “Don’t, man. Seriously. Just leave me alone.”
“Nah, I think we need to talk.”
That wasn’t Cash. I look up to see that Reed and Lennon have joined him in the doorway.
“Is he out there?” I ask.
“No.” Lennon pulls up a chair and joins me at the table. “We told him to go chill out in the bus.”
“He can go fuck himself in the bus,” I mutter.
“He was way out of line,” Cash says. He folds his arms and leans against the doorway. “No way should he have kept something like that from you.”
I’m surprised at how relieved I feel, knowing that he’s on my side. From the looks on the other boys’ faces, I have a feeling they agree with Cash.
“I can’t believe him.” I pound my fist on the table. “She went through all of that alone, and she didn’t need to. I should have been there.”
“You can’t blame yourself,” Lennon says.