“Your sister?” I looked sceptically at him. “That’s the best you can do?”
Kyle rubbed his chin. “I swear, doll. She’s got an asshole husband who beats the shit out of her pretty much weekly.” He sighed heavily and threw himself down in one of the chairs. “I want to kill the fucker, but she won’t let me near him.”
I bit my lip and sat in the chair across from him. He seemed genuinely upset.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, as he leaned forward, his head in his hands. He sighed again. “Is there anything I can do?”
He lifted his eyes to mine. “You’re not mad at me?”
I smiled gently. “Why would I be?”
He frowned, puzzlement written across his face. “Because...” I studied him as he moved from confusion to thoughtfulness and then back to confusion. “Look, I understand if you think I’m bullshitting you. But I swear I’m not.”
I shook my head and got up, then knelt beside him. He looked down at me. There was a quiet desperation in his gaze.
“Kyle, I won’t deny that I’ve got some... bad memories.” I was choosing my words carefully. I wasn’t over the hurt that Adam had put me through, but that would come with time. I hoped. “But I believe you.” I brushed my fingertips against his cheek, and he caught my hand in his, squeezing it tightly. I chuckled softly. “I don’t think you could pull off a kiss like the one you just gave me if you didn’t care about me at least a little.”
I could practically feel the wave of relief that came over him.
“You have no fucking idea,” he whispered. He pulled me forward, between his knees, and hugged me fiercely. I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders. “I’m so scared for her, Charlotte.” I could feel him trembling, and I gently stroked his hair. “The son of a bitch has a gun, and if he gets it into his head to really hurt her...” He shook his head and sighed against my neck. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
I turned my head and murmured in his ear. “Is there anything you can do?”
He lifted himself away from me and shook his head again. “Nothing,” he said bitterly, slouching back in the chair. My heart went out to him. “Wendy won’t leave him, and I don’t fucking get it.”
I bit my lip again. This, I could help him with. “Let me try to explain,” I said softly, and he blinked at me. “When times are bad, yes, it’s easy to think about leaving.” I sighed. “But when he apologises, and says it will never happen again...” I smiled wistfully. “When he buys you flowers and treats you to dinner and sings sweetly to you at night, you start to believe –”
Kyle was staring at me. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I’d only ever talked to Samantha about my relationship with Adam. Kyle’s intense gaze was making me a little uncomfortable.
“Please stop looking at me like that,” I whispered. He didn’t. The sadness in his eyes was breaking my heart. “Please, Kyle.”
“Who hurt you, Charlie?” His voice was deep and rough.
I shook my head. I was trying to get over my past, not revisit it. “It’s not important,” I said, reaching for a smile. It was difficult, but I managed. Barely. “I’m just trying to show you why your sister might think that maybe – just maybe – her husband will change. Become the man she married again.”
Kyle’s eyes darkened, and he frowned. He studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
“Okay,” he said quietly. I’d never heard him sound so resigned. “I think I get it.” He glowered. “But I don’t have to fucking like it.”
I rested a hand on his knee. “No, you don’t have to like it,” I said firmly. “And you shouldn’t. If that’s what he’s doing to her, it’s worse than hitting her.” Kyle raised his eyebrows. “Think about it, Kyle. He’s training her to believe that she’s lost without him. That can ruin a person.” He was giving me that searching look again, and I cleared my throat. “Please don’t stop trying to convince her to leave him.”
Kyle nodded slowly, his eyes narrowed. I patted his knee and stood up before he could ask me any questions. “Write it, Kyle,” I said, and he looked surprised. “Write it all out. Make a song out of if you have to.” I smiled down at him, and he nodded thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.
“I think I just might.” He looked up and managed a smile. “Thanks, doll.” He held out his hand, and I took it, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I’ll let you get to work,” I said. “This is something you need to do on your own.”
He nodded again, more firmly this time. “Yeah. Yeah, I think it is.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Good luck, Kyle,” I murmured.
He smiled gratefully at me, and I gave him a little wave before leaving the room and closing the door softly behind me. I leaned against it and blew out a breath. I’d dodged a bullet with Adam; two years of false promises and ruined apologies hadn’t been quite long enough to destroy my self-confidence, but I’d come close. I couldn’t imagine what Wendy was going through right now.
I hoped that Kyle wouldn’t push to learn more about what I’d been through. The sadness he’d shown when I’d described my experience was enough to make me want to protect him from my past. He had enough to worry about with his sister, and the upcoming concert.
And from the way he spoke about his brother-in-law, I suspected that anyone who hurt the people he cared about wouldn’t last long.
At rehearsal that afternoon, Kyle was on fire. Millions of girls swooned over that rich, velvet voice, and no wonder. It was like making love to the perfect man on a warm summer’s night.
I sat in my usual spot on the ancient sofa and watched him. He and Natasha were singing beautifully together, as usual. Whatever else the others thought of her, her voice was gorgeous, sweet and melodic. Kyle had brought another new song to the session, and she’d been over the moon at the lyrics.
Of course, it’s possible that she thought he’d written it for her.
“Baby, I'm falling, falling so fast...”
I wasn’t vain enough to think he’d written this song about me, but I still found myself blushing slightly every time he glanced at me while he sang.
“Each day I pray that this feeling will last.”
Natasha gazed at him with unmistakable desire as she sang.
“Baby I'm falling, falling so fast...”
It was a classic ballad, and she more than did it justice. I envied her voice a little. I liked to sing, but after a handful of lessons in my youth, I’d had to give them up. The money just hadn’t been there to carry on.
“Just be here with me, ’cause we don't need the past.”
My voice would never be as polished at Natasha’s, but I sometimes found myself wishing I could sing a duet with Kyle. Just once. Especially one with lyrics like this.
“I ain't got the words, don't know what to do...”
Their voices blended on the outro like they were made to sing together. I could understand why Natasha was still with Parallel Destiny, despite what I’d heard the others muttering about her prima donna attitude.
“’Cause baby, I'm falling, falling for you.”
When the session finally came to a close, I stood up and stretched. Three hours sitting on a sofa that was probably older than I was had given me a sudden urge to walk around. Kyle and Natasha were debating which songs would be best for the concert, and Joey was playing around on his guitar.
I recognised that bass line.
“Hey! That’s from a Kings of Denial song,” I said, pointing at him in surprise. He lifted his head and grinned broadly at me.
“Yeah,” he said. “You know their stuff?”
I shuffled my feet and shrugged as Kyle slowly turned and stared at me. I was getting that uncomfortable feeling again.
“Some of it,” I said vaguely. “It’s not really a Parallel Destiny kind of tune, though.”
Joey snorted, and Tyler laughed raucously. He started playing along, and I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. Dan joined in on the drums, and Walter rolled his eyes.
“When did I start managing a metal band?” he said drily, and the boys laughed as they played. This song was the furthest from metal that Kings of Denial had ever written. I knew the piece by heart. I ought to; I’d been there when Adam had written it. I’d laughed when he’d told me that every heavy metal band had at least a couple of songs that their fans could play for their parents, as if to prove that the music wasn’t so bad.
This was one of them.
When the boys got to second verse, I started singing.
“When I'm here with you, baby, the days just fly...”
Joey was watching me, but his fingers never left the fretboard. He was good. Really good. The bass line for Lose My Tomorrows was one of the more complex in the Kings of Denial catalogue.
“You treat me like a king, but I don't know why.”
Dan was giving Tyler one of those looks. Kyle had said it was a ‘twin thing’, whatever that meant. The drummer and guitarist were the first twins I’d ever really known.
“I'd walk away from you, but I can't bear the sorrow...”
Now Walter was staring at me, too. My voice started to falter.
“Love me today, and I'll lose my tomor–”
Natasha stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. I stopped singing and turned around, staring after her. I had no idea what had just happened. Behind me, the guys had stopped playing.
Kyle whistled softly. “Huh,” he said. I turned around and saw him rubbing his chin and looking thoughtfully at me.
“What?” I lifted my hands helplessly. “What did I do?”
Kyle glanced over at Walter, who just raised his eyebrows and shrugged. I was missing something, but I wasn’t sure what. And quite frankly, I was getting a little paranoid. They were all giving each other meaningful looks that I didn’t understand in the least.
“Well, someone say something,” I pleaded. “I’m going to get a complex.”
Kyle held out the song that he and Natasha had been singing at the beginning of the session. I took it hesitantly and looked down at it. It was called You’re My World. It had a simple, sweet melody, and the harmony only started on the chorus. The first verse was written for a woman’s voice, from a woman’s perspective. Natasha had done an excellent job with it.
I glanced up at Kyle.
“What do you want me to do with this?”
He smiled gently. “Sing it, Charlotte.” Tyler raised his eyebrows, and Kyle shook his head slightly, then looked back at me. “Give it a shot.”
I blushed deeply. “I can’t –”
“Sure you can,” Joey said cheerfully. I gave him a weak smile. “Go on, spider. Try it.”
I did my best not to clear my throat. I remembered from my long-ago lessons that it was one of the worst things a singer could do. Instead, I grabbed the bottle of room-temperature water that Kyle always kept on the music stand and took a long swallow. I capped the bottle and lifted my chin, trying to project a confidence I didn’t truly feel.
You can do this, Charlie. You’ve been singing since you were six.
Yeah, but never in front of five men who were all looking at me like they expected an elephant to pop out of my head the minute I opened my mouth.