Tone Deaf(16)

I snatch the phone out of Jon’s hand and scroll to the last photo in the series. The sweltering heat had left all of us sweating by the end of the tour, and some of Ali’s makeup had worn off. Without the thick plaster of foundation on her cheek, I can see the greenish shadow of a fresh bruise.

“Shit,” Jon says, peering over my shoulder at the picture. “Did she have that yesterday?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. But it doesn’t matter if the bruise was there yesterday, because it shouldn’t be there at all. I flip back a few pictures until I find one that shows her arms. Cold nausea slams into my gut as I see what I was both expecting and dreading—a band of bruises curling around her forearm, like a hand grabbed her there. The bruises on her arm are faint, but the fact that they’re old just makes me feel worse. Whatever happened to her face wasn’t a one-time deal.

Jon gives his throat an uncomfortable clear. “Do you think . . . ?”

“Yeah,” I say, not bothering to finish the sentence for him. I know we’re both thinking the exact same thing. Jon comes from a decent family, but he’s spent plenty of time fetching ice packs for me and helping me wrap sprains.

“Shit,” Jon repeats.

He sounds sad and concerned, but it’s nothing compared to the emotions roiling inside me and lighting my nerves on fire. I don’t need this right now. Hell, this is the last thing I need. June fifth is always a horrible day, but it’s only supposed to last twenty-four hours. Then I can spend 364 days shoving away the memories from my past and pretending none of it mattered.

Except it does matter, because now it’s re-entered my life in the form of a girl who is clearly in trouble. I think of how careful she was to keep space between us during the tour, and of the desperate look in her eyes when I mentioned the money. Could this be why?

“Um, do you want to sit down?” Jon asks, his voice strained and uncertain. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

I let out a shuddering breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. My heart thunders in my chest as I take a couple shaky steps toward the bed and sit on its edge. I have the sudden urge to grab the sheets and pull them over my head, to just hide from this situation like I used to hide from my nightmares when I was a kid. Not that it ever helped much back then. It was impossible to escape bad dreams when I was living with a monster.

Jon bites his lip. “You stay here, okay?” He hooks his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing toward the door of the RV. “I’ll go give the girl her money.”

“No,” I say.

“No? Jace, you promised it to her. You can’t back out.”

“I mean, no, you’re not going to give it to her.” I stand up and stride toward the door, walking fast so Jon can’t see how shaky my legs are. “I am.”

Jon sidesteps in front of me, blocking my way out of the room. “You’re not going to ask her about the bruises, are you? We’re trying to keep this girl away from the media. Stirring up drama isn’t going to help things.”

“Drama?” I repeat, my voice a growl. “Someone hurt that girl. That’s not drama, that’s a crime.”

Jon holds up his hands, as if to ward off my glare. “Okay, sorry, that was a bad word choice. But my point stands. There’s no way you’re going to help things by getting involved in this.”

I press my palm against my forehead, wishing I could just shove away the thoughts rattling around my mind.

She’s being hurt.

She’s in danger.

She needs help.

“I have to try,” I say to Jon.

He heaves a frustrated sigh. “Look, Jace, you don’t even know for sure if she’s being abused. Maybe she just—”

“—fell down the stairs?” I say, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Slipped on a wet floor? Got accidentally hit with an opening door?” I shake my head. “I’m sure she’ll have some sort of excuse. And I’m sure I’ll recognize it, because it’ll probably be one I’ve used before.”

Jon gives a frustrated sigh. “Look, Jace, I know you’re going through a rough time right now. I get it. And, yeah, those bruises are really suspicious, so I understand why you’re worried about this girl. But her safety is absolutely not your concern.”

“If you really think that, then you don’t understand at all,” I say. Then I shove past him, stopping only to grab the check before I rush back to Ali.





9


ALI


I GLARE AT the pavement, my teeth gritted so hard that it makes my bruised jaw hurt even more. What’s wrong with me? I never let people like Jace get to me. He’s a worthless jerk, and what he says doesn’t matter.

Except it does. He didn’t just attack me with words; he attacked me with my past. I’ve tried so hard to forget about my musical career, and he tossed all that work out the window. The pain is back, just as raw as it was that day I woke up from surgery and couldn’t hear. Damn it. Damn him.

I take in a shuddering breath. At least this tour is almost officially over. He went to get my check, and as soon as he hands it over, I’m out of here. If he ever comes back, that is. It’s been a solid ten minutes since he left, and I’m starting to wonder if he’s going to cheat me out of the money.