AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Pedro takes Onyx’s hand and leads us outside. Bright lights lead toward a stage with seven people on stage. Two women and a man stand behind microphones in a state of waiting. I clock them as back-up singers. The other four are in full costume and makeup, making it difficult to recognize who they are if I bump into them on the street.
But two of the foursome before are familiar to me. Especially the man sitting behind the drums doing warm-ups I’ve seen and sketched over the last month.
“Is that Liquid Obsession?” Glamma squeals, a foreign, girlish sound coming from her.
“Yes, they’re here to perform for you.” Pedro pulls her closer to the stage. He glances back at me with concern.
I remain outside of the light’s circle, not ready to accept the truth playing out in front of me. The lead singer…no, Khadijah does a brief introduction then launches into a set, but I can’t take my eyes off the drummer.
The man who couldn’t sit in front of an instrument no longer falters as he confidently bangs on his drums and cymbals. The hobbyist is an actual professional, his undeniable talent on display. And I’m a fucking idiot for blindly trusting him.
I force myself to sit through the entire performance, barely registering Onyx as she sings along or halfway through when she pats Pedro down and extracts the ring box. I can only swim in misery and the deep-seated fear that something bad will happen. No one will expect it when it comes, but it will lay waste to hopes and dreams and a future.
Why did he have to lie?
As Liquid Obsession winds down with their final song, I can scarcely see through the tears blurring my vision. When Khadijah leaps off the stage to talk to Pedro and Onyx, I circle to the back. In slow motion, I advance onto the drummer who I can’t admit is the person I know he is. He is packing his instruments.
“Is this the secret project you’ve been working on with Khadijah?” I force the question through my strained vocal cords.
Cameron swings around, shock on his face. “Kenya? How…”
“How am I here? Not by choice.” I avoid looking at him directly. Instead, I take in the official band logo on his bass drum and the equipment cases. “You aren’t a cover band, are you?” I ask. A cover band would want to look the part and would mean he didn’t lie to me. He just hadn’t explained the extent of his hobby.
“No, we’re the original.”
My breath hitches. “I can’t believe you would keep something like this from me. That you’ve been lying to me for months.”
“Let me explain.” Cameron holds his hands out to me.
The gesture is so heartbreakingly familiar, but the comfort I usually glean from it is missing.
“Kiwi, what’s going on?” Glamma notices me for the first time.
“Oh, shit,” Khadijah mutters.
The other two bandmates glance between the action on stage and their lead singer, but remain quiet to the point of backing away as if sensing danger.
Khadijah races to join us on the stage. “Don’t overreact, Kenya.”
“How do you know my granddaughter?”
“We should leave them to talk privately, Nyxie. They’ll have to work things out on their own. Just like we do.” He holds up her hand that now sports an engagement ring.
With one last glance in my direction, Onyx mouths a good luck benediction for me and follows Pedro into the house.
“Let’s go somewhere private to talk.” Cameron approaches me with his treacherous arms extended toward me.
I nod and lead him to my car while holding everything in on a hope and a prayer. If I move too fast or open my mouth, I can’t guarantee that I won’t crumble into dust on the spot.
CHAPTER 33
Cameron
The brief high from performing for the first time in front of an audience, albeit small, is long gone as I sit beside Kenya in the car. She is too quiet as she drives us home. After she pulls into her driveway, she bypasses the main house to go to the bungalow. All the major construction has been completed. Only the interior decorating remains.
Her calm unnerves me. When Cheryl Lee exposed herself as a liar, Kenya’s rage was a living, roaring thing, which makes her current behavior all the more alarming.
As soon as the door closes behind me, I don’t wait for her to demand answers. “Kenya, before you light into me—”
