JACKS

I can't believe what I'm seeing. He's here—in my trailer—talking to Skye.

This is my nightmare.

"Well that's a great way to say hello to your father." Jerry scoffs and shakes his head.

Skye looks tense and unsure of what to do.

"I'm sorry, Skye, would you mind giving us some privacy? I need to talk to my dad alone."

"Oh uh, of course," she says, nodding and she stands up.

"We'll talk later, okay?" She walks past me and gives me a soft, concerned look as she leaves the bus.

"So," my dad says with a smirk. "Who's the girl?"

My skin crawls and my fists tighten at my sides.

"No one. Why are you here?"

"That's not-so-subtle code for definitely someone."

"No. It's code for none of your goddamn business." I walk past him and throw my bag down on the couch. "What did you say to her?"

"We just chatted. Why? Is there something you don't want her to know?"

"I just know that everything that comes out of your mouth is suspect."

"You're awfully concerned about this girl who's supposed to be nobody. You sleeping with her?"

"She's the tour photographer, okay?"

"That's not a no."

"No! I'm not sleeping with her!" My voice is tense and increasing in volume. "Why are you here? What do you want?"

"Can't I visit my son? Or did you fire me as your dad too?"

If only I could.

I might have fallen for this years ago, but now I see him for who he really is. I'm nothing to him but a prop, someone he can use to get ahead when he needs it. Everything he does has an ulterior motive.

He stands up and sighs.

"How 'bout you save the caring father act for someone who might actually buy it. You don't care about me, you care about my money. Now I'll ask one more time before I call security—what. do. you. want?"

"I'm here to see how you're doing. I had no idea you were busy throwing your career away."

"Throwing my career away? Oh really? Because I hired André as my manager and not you?"

"Because you're clearly fucking around with your married photographer. Or did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"She's not married," I snap. I can't help but cringe slightly at the idea of Skye actually marrying that guy, but I do my best to conceal it.

"She's engaged—don't pretend you didn't notice the ring on her finger. To the press, it'll be the same thing. I can see the headlines already: 'Jackson Ford—Homewrecker.'"

He's not wrong. But the press is something I can deal with. What I can't deal with is not having Skye in my life.

"Why don't you let my manager worry about headlines."

His expression turns cold and his eyes darken. It's as if someone has flipped a switch and revealed the real man beneath the facade.

"You better watch yourself, Jackson," he says, stepping closer to me until he's within two feet of me. I know he uses my full name just to piss me off. I've always hated sharing a name with him, but it's worse now with all our history.

"Yeah?"

"You think your little tween ass had a clue how to build a career? No. I made you. And I can tear you down just as easily. So show some goddamn respect."

I hit the intercom call button and Bruce quickly appears in the entryway.

"Hey Big Man, get this man the hell out of my trailer," I say, turning my back on them both as I head to the bedroom. "And if he shows up again—call the cops."

I lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling, tracing imaginary lines with my eyes for nearly twenty minutes. Just a brief conversation with my dad and I am exhausted. My stomach continues to churn long after he is gone.

Jerry Ford is a tornado, one that flips my life on its head and leaves wreckage in his wake every time.

After our history, I'm surprised he even had the balls to show up here. I'm pretty certain the only reason he did is because he wants something from me—probably money.

You'd think after stealing seven million dollars from me he wouldn't be so strapped for cash.

I stand up and begin to pace in my trailer's bedroom, wearing a divot into the carpet with my feet.

How do I even begin to have this conversation with Skye?

It's no big deal. My father is a narcissist who embezzled from me for years and basically just used me as a meal ticket until I was old enough to see past his bullshit.

Sure, no big deal.

And what did he say to her? He loves to talk, but he has no problem with lying to your face with a smile.

I take a deep breath in and decide to just get it over with, walking to the next bus over and stepping aboard.

Sticks is playing video games with one of the roadies on the couch. The music playing in the back becomes cacophonous when paired with the gunfire sound effects of the game. Skye is on her laptop at the table; her brows knit as she stares at the screen. I step closer as her head lifts and she meets my eye. Her expression morphs from one of concentration to concern.

"Jacks..." she says softly.

"Hey," I say, looking down at the carpet. "Can we talk?"

"Uh, yeah..." Her eyes scan the room. "Outside?"

I nod and walk back out with her in tow. The bus door closes with a soft click. Skye looks down at the gravel beneath her feet, her hands tucked into the front pockets of her jeans.

"So, uh... that was my dad. I guess you already know that part..." I say.

"Yeah."

"Do you um... Did you ever read anything about us in the news or gossip sites?"

"Uh, I saw a couple headlines. I forgot about them till now but something about you suing him or something?"

"Yeah... well, that was just kind of the tip of the iceberg really." I sigh and shake my head. "He embezzled a lot of money from me during my career; that's what the lawsuit was about. I always knew he was getting money as my manager but I later found out he was taking whatever he wanted out of my accounts. He bought himself a house, a new car. I was too young to consider that he might have paid for them with my money."

"Wow." Her eyes meet mine with what I hope is sympathy and not pity.

"I guess I should probably tell you the rest, I uh... well, after that, he and I didn't speak for a while. He wrote a big tell-all book about raising a superstar son and... that was pretty much the final straw. He laid out all our family secrets, mixed with a heavy dose of his own lies."

"Damn. What did he lie about?"

"A lot. He lied about not being guilty of embezzlement. He claimed I was into drugs, which is complete bullshit. He pretended he and I were still on speaking terms."

He also said that he seduced my ex-girlfriend while we were together. I honestly could never tell if that was true or a lie, but I'm not sure which would be worse at this point.

"I'm sorry Jacks," she says, looking down at the pavement.

"Did he say anything to you? I mean... what was he talking to you about?"

"Well, he thought I was a groupie at first." She laughs and looks at me through her lashes.

She's playing it off like it's just funny to her, but it sure as hell isn't funny to me.

"Listen, whatever he said... I don't jus-"

She cuts me off with a wave of her hand.

"You don't have to explain anything to me. It's fine."

It's really not fine.

I want to tell her that she's no groupie and that's not my style, but she's right; I don't have any reason to justify myself to her. Skye isn't my girlfriend; she's somebody else's.

The thought is a sucker punch to the gut.

"Right, yeah..."

"He didn't really say much. We just made small talk."

"Okay," I say. I don't know if I entirely believe he didn't find a way to try and manipulate her to get to me, but I don't want to push the issue.

"Jacks," she says, taking a step closer to me and putting a hand on my shoulder. I can't bring myself to look her in the eye. "Are you okay? You seem really shaken up."

"I'm fine."

Lie.

She looks at me like she can see right through me.

"Just so you know, you are not to blame for the shitty things your parents do."

I look up at her and she gives me a small smile.

"That's not how the media spins it," I say. "They either think I'm an ungrateful prick of a son or that I come from his bad stock."

"Well, I can tell you the whole bad stock thing is bullshit."

"Is that so?" I can't help but smile slightly.

"If it isn't, then me and Ollie would've been totally screwed."

"I thought you got along with your parents."

"Our birth parents were drug addicts and part of some sort of weirdo cult. I don't know all the details but I know they weren't good people. My mom can barely talk about it."

"I'm sorry," I say. "That sucks."

"Jacks..." She leans in and gives me a tight hug. I take in the feeling of her arms wrapped around my back, the way her shampoo smells—like I'm trying to commit it to memory.

She pulls away and looks at me.

"If you're going to listen to everyone's opinions of you, then you have to remember to listen to those people too." She points to the back entrance of the concert venue. "For every dumbass person who thinks you're ungrateful or like your dad or whatever... there are hundreds of people who will pack a stadium to see you. People who wear your face on their shirts and draw your name in their notebooks and write overly sexual vampire stories about you."

I can't help but laugh, and the way she smiles back makes me want to never stop.

Something ignites deep within my chest and I know exactly what it is—it's Skye Kennedy digging into my heart and making a permanent home within its chambers.

There's no sense in fighting it. I'm hers.

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