The achy pounding in his chest had returned with a vengeance. The scene with Keira kept replaying in his mind. That she’d just walk out on him, then lie to him about something so important. He hadn’t thought she would do something like that, especially after everything he’d shared with her. She knew how much it had hurt when his dad walked out on their family. For her to keep that from him. It seemed like his taste in women hadn’t gotten any better. First, Talia the opportunist and then Keira.

The ache of betrayal pounded in his chest. How could she have done this to him? Let it come out in the news like that? He’d stopped accepting calls from his mom. She’d called him at least twenty times a day, every day since the story broke. He couldn’t believe she’d lied to him all these years and to bring Keira into it. Keira had given up with the calls after the first week.

There was a knock on the tour bus door and he strode down the aisle wrenching the door open. He stumbled backward as he came face to face with his mom. The retreating figure of Smithy off in the distance. Traitor.

“Now’s not a really good time mom,” he grumbled.

“Don’t give me that shit,” she said, barging in past him. She climbed the steps and he followed her. “You’re going to talk to me whether you want to or not. Eric Yancy Newcastle.”

“Really, all the names, mom? Fine, talk. I don’t know what you can say to explain away the fact that you kept Dad away for years,” he said, leaning against the counter.

“Eric, you need to understand. I wasn’t keeping your dad away. I was keeping away the drug addict who’s taken over your dad’s body from you. He’s not who you remember. He’s not someone you can trust. Trust me. I know. I’ve tried. I’ve given him so many chances over the years. So many.”

“But you didn’t give me that chance to see for myself,” he said, jabbing a finger into his chest. She hung her head, shaking it.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. I was trying to protect you. I was trying to preserve any good memories you had of him. I didn’t want you to know he chose drugs over us. I had to go buy your guitar back from the pawn shop downtown the night I put him out for good. That was the last straw. He knew how much you loved that guitar. He knew it, but he pawned it for some quick cash,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. The cracks were back now, deeper and more painful than ever. He closed his eyes.

“Mom—”

“I’m sorry, Eric. More sorry than you could know, but I did it to protect you.”

“Keira knew. You told Keira and not me,” he said, remembering the way the bile raced up his throat when he realized she’d been a part of the lie.

“It wasn’t her fault, honey. It wasn’t. I made her promise me. She overheard me arguing with your dad that night you came to visit. I made her promise she wouldn’t say a word and told her I’d tell you soon. She was just trying to protect you too. She knew you needed to hear it from me,” his mom said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. He grabbed some napkins off the counter and put them in her hand. She wrapped hers around his, pulling him down to her. She cupped his face in her hands.

“My sweet, sweet boy. Please don’t let my mistakes or the mistakes of your father get in the way of your happiness. I know how much she cares about you. I know you can’t see it right now, but I put her in an unfair position. And I’ll apologize to her when I get the chance, but please don’t give up what you have with her because of what I did. She loves you, Eric and wanted to protect you. Don’t take that for granted, sweetie.”

As much as he wanted to rage against his mother and tell her she had no right, he’d already come to the same conclusion about his dad’s motivations. He’d called the tabloids to get his dad’s contact information. To try to get in touch, but he hadn’t even left a phone number with them. He’d taken the money and ran, never even cared about meeting him. His dad only cared about getting more cash to feed his habit. He didn’t know what hurt more, knowing his mom had lied to him or knowing that she’d probably done the right thing to protect him from whatever shit his father would have rained down on him.

Now to figure out what to do about Keira. He didn’t think a simple ‘sorry’ would cut it. He’d have to go big on this one.

* * *

Her camera hung around her neck, Keira nearly forgot to take pictures as the dancing sharks made their way across the stage. After less than a week on the tour, the sheer number of people involved in the production made the roadies that worked with Uncharted and the handful on tour with Eric seem like a high school musical production. The pyrotechnics almost singed her eyebrows off the first night, when she thought she’d found the perfect spot on the edge of the stage to get some shots.

With over twenty dancers, a few personal trainers, assistants and even more production staff, she needed a homing beacon to find her way around. The laminate around her neck was essential to not be kicked out on her butt at any given moment. With so many people involved she didn’t even think that a quarter of the people on tour knew she’d been added to the roster. Their tour busses rolled from city to city like a moving battalion.

Her roommate, a dancer, showed her the ropes and made sure that she knew where to pick up the daily itinerary, daily laminates and had a full list of the shuttle schedule from the hotel to the venue. There were hourly shuttles back and forth. The well-oiled machine could easily chew you up and spit you out, if you weren’t careful. But the opportunity that this photo tour book could give her had her running through data cards like a madwoman. The sheer magnitude of the production meant there were always chances for great candid shots. Whether it was Segway races behind the venue, whipped cream fights or the nightly all team huddle and dance break before a show that always devolved into laughter and catcalls. With over eight thousand pictures taken in under a week, it was going to be intense to pick the best ones to include in the book.

With her mini book from Eric’s tour, she’d already been contacted by three other artists interested in having her travel with them on their upcoming tours. The overwhelming pressure of what this could become sometimes stopped her in her tracks. She’d lean against the nearest surface and take deep breaths until her heart rate and the uncontrollable sweating slowed. Eric hadn’t attempted to call her once since she left. That yawning abyss of sadness that opened whenever she thought about him could be temporarily closed when she kept busy running around from backstage to onstage to the tour buses. But in the quiet moments, lying in bed, her roommate gently snoring, she couldn’t help but think about him and how she’d screwed it all up. She’d stopped calling after the first week. If he wanted to, he knew where to find her, but her fear was that he didn’t want to and it was over between them. One secret and it all blew up in her face.