Jagger
Anger. Frustration. Disappointment. Only one of the few things I’ve felt since I woke shortly after midnight and realized Poppy was gone. It increases the longer my calls go unanswered and my messages unread, with worry being added to the mix a few hours ago.
Gripping my chin, I twist my neck, forcing it until a satisfying pop alleviates some of the pain my stress is causing, then do the other side. The guy drones on and on like Charlie Brown’s teacher—wah-wah nothing—because my brain’s still stuck on Poppy. Why she left. Why she’s ignoring me.
I lean back in my chair, resting my elbow on the arms and bringing my knuckles to my lips, brushing them back and forth as I replay everything. My knee bounces at a relentless pace as my anxiety grows by the minute.
Did I imagine it all last night? Mistook goodbye for a silent declaration of love?
It won’t be goodbye. I told her that again and again. There’s nowhere she can run or hide from me that I won’t find her, but right now, I can’t. My anger—the old feelings of betrayal and abandonment have been triggered—will cause me to do something I’ll regret.
It’s already been a battle not to make a phone call and get something to take the edge off.
“Jagger, are you there?”
No.“Yeah, I’m here, Frankie. Get me the demos, and I’ll see about getting out there to check her out.” I look at my watch, knowing I need to go to Graham’s office. He’s been texting me all morning, but I’ve ignored him, not in the mood for whatever stunt he’s about to pull. “We’ll talk later.”
I end the call, then dial down to the company nursery. “Jagger, for the last time, he’s fine. I swear, you’re worse than Maddox and Ryder,” Heaven, Ryder’s girlfriend, tells me. I was glad she was volunteering today, or I might not have left him. My gut is telling me something is wrong. I don’t know what, but it would be my luck to break my kid on the first full day I have him. “The day is almost over. Once everyone is cleared out, I’ll get Ryder to help me bring him down to you.”
“Thanks, Heaven,” I sigh. “Sorry, I’ve been such a pain.”
“I get it,” she says, her tone now sympathetic instead of exasperated. “It’s new to you and new to him, but he’s had a blast.”
“Good.” I lean forward, shaking my head. “That’s good.”
“You have a world of support behind you, Jagger. We are all here. Don’t forget that.”
I nod and hang up. Pushing to my feet, I round my desk and head for the door. The entire way to Graham’s office, a sense of dread washes over me. Dammit, I’m not in the headspace for this.
When I push open the door, it’s all I can do not to throw my head back and groan. Behind his desk, Graham is leaning back, looking relaxed as ever. Probably because he’s about to get on a jet and whisk Casey away for the week. He lifts a brow when he spots me. “Perfect timing.”
“Or the worst ever.” I stalk across the room, agitation circling me like a thick fog. I plant my ass into the chair across from Graham’s desk, crossing an ankle over a knee in hopes of keeping the other still. “Maddox. Ryder.” I acknowledge their shit-eating grins. “Do you two go anywhere without the other?”
“Sure we do,” Ryder answers, his grin growing wider at my annoyance. The way he gets off on people’s discomfort astounds me.
“I will get right to the point,” Maddox says, his eyes rolling at his best friend. “Let’s be real here. I’ve known those songs weren’t written by Maverick since he brought them to me. Maverick is good. Great even. But the arrangements were more complex than his usual style…” His eyes penetrate me with a deep knowing. “I know Maverick’s past, so the lyrics fit him, but that’s not his usual avenue of writing. He tends to focus on a different kind of pain.”
I cut my eyes to Graham, swiping my tongue over my teeth. “You told them.”
He shrugs, his hands lifting in the air, before dropping back down over his chest. “And you knew I would. I’m not letting you hide behind Maverick or anyone else.”
“Why would you?” Ryder asks, this time without a single hint of sarcasm. “They really are bloody good songs, mate. So why are you hiding? I mean, there are uncredited songwriters all the time, but it’s usually for privacy reasons. You don’t have that now, so what’s the deal?”
So I tell them. Feeling more pathetic with every word. Realizing I let my mom plant a seed in me when she was sick, despite knowing she didn’t mean it, then I let Maxwell nurture it until it became this monstrous, parasitical vine, choking me until I buried my passion.
Maddox makes an irritated sound, shaking his head as those bright blue eyes dance with rapid thought, but Ryder is the first to speak up. “Your dad is a fucking twat. Take it from someone whose mom is a bloody cunt, no pun intended, cut ties. You’ll be a lot fucking happier in the long run.”
“It’s hard,” Maddox starts, his eyes growing distant. “When it feels like you’re not enough? That you constantly disappoint the one person whose approval you want? It’s so fucking hard. I’ve been there. My story is a bit different from yours, though. Ryder is probably right about getting the poison out of your life. Sometimes you have to.”
I glance toward Graham, who looks just as disappointed as I feel, but he’s nodding in agreement. “He is right. I can’t tell you what to do, but I made my decision last night. He doesn’t get a second chance. Not when you tried to tell him. Not after what he said. Everything that happened to you is on me for not noticing, but it’s on him for not listening.”
Will there ever come a time this shit doesn’t follow me? That I’m not reminded about what happened? What I allowed to happen?
I already know the answer. Even if I cut everyone involved out of my life, the truth is the memories would still be there.
And somehow, everything Krista did pales compared to Dad. The way he tore me down over the one thing I was passionate about. Then brushed me aside when I needed him. He didn’t do any of it, but he wouldn’t listen when I tried to tell him.
He was my father, but he stopped being my dad long ago. Maybe he never really was. I only wish I’d realized sooner. That I wouldn’t have spent so many years torturing myself.
