Page 152 of Fame and Obsession
She’s been a shell ever since.
And Ty… He lost his sister for the second time. Only this time, it wasn’t to a physical disease and death. He lost Tanna to mental illness and unforgivable betrayal. Ever since the police took Phoebe, Tanna, and me to the hospital, no one’s seen Ty at all.
Zane tried to call him a few times but just received multiple texts telling him to fuck off. He needs time to come to terms with his shattered trust. Ty is an intensely private person. The only way to get him back is to leave him alone. Somehow he’ll make sense of it.
We’ve all been changed by what happened. Not one single person involved is still the same person they were before Tanna infiltrated our lives.
The irony hits me hard.
Billy Lamee was the kindest, gentlest soul to ever walk this earth, and his death was avenged by the most hateful sibling who could’ve ever shared his blood.
It’s reprehensible, but it’s our story to tell. And only one person can tell it—in my autobiography she’s still writing. MetroGroup’s tell-all book has suddenly morphed into a best-selling crime drama.
I turn to see Phoebe lying beside me, and a smile curls my lips despite my depressive state.
Five days ago, I’d insisted on being near her, even though security was tight.
Five days since the moment I understood what it meant to be thankful.
I have to admit, I got choked up during the ultrasound when I heard what sounded like a horse galloping. Confused, I’d looked down at her in time to see the tears rolling down the sides of her face.
Hearing the baby’s tiny racing heartbeat stopped mine forever. I couldn’t speak after that.
Our child proved to be a fighter just like its mother.
I trace the outer lines of her collarbone as a deep-rooted sigh escapes her lips. I know that sigh. I hate that sigh.
“Just say it,” she says, curling up beside me.
We were only down the hall from each other in our respective hospital rooms, but I snuck down the hall and crawled right into bed with her. I wheeled my IV pole right along with me and fucking dared anyone to tell me to leave.
Especially after what I had to tell her.
“I have to leave in four days.”
Lifting her head, she balances her chin on my chest. “I know you didn’t say what I think you said.”
“We have a charity event in Los Angeles. It’s some huge gig Helena booked a long time ago. Honestly, I forgot about it until she texted me a little while ago.”
She squints one eye. “And you’re just telling me this why?”
“Because I didn’t want to upset you in your condition.”
“Julian, I’m not on my deathbed. By the time you leave, it will have been over a week and a half since the attack. I’ll be fine.”
I drape an arm across her. “If the concert wasn’t a kid’s charity and already sold out, I’d cancel. I just don’t like leaving you here alone. I don’t know who…” I stop and avert my eyes.
“Who, what?” she prods.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t nothing me, Bale. I know when you’re being evasive.”
I tighten my jaw, refusing to look at her. “I’m scared I’m going to leave and the fucking bottom is going to fall out from under us again. Every time we turn around something is hiding in the shadows waiting for us.”
She squeezes my hand. “Julian, I should know better than anyone that monsters can hide in plain sight. They can hold your hand as you cross the street and then push you in front of a car when your back is turned. We can’t hide from the world living in a bubble of what ifs. Evil doesn’t have a face. It just is.”
“Can we just drop it? I don’t want to spend the rest of my time in New York sitting here arguing.”
