Delicate Us

Chapter 23

Trace

"Let me in," Trace urged, holding down the button in front of the gate until his finger turned white.

Syler's voice was quiet as she said, "Okay, hold on."

A moment later, the gates cracked inward and Trace wasted no time waiting for them to open before he turned to the side and slipped between the two iron doors. He ran down the cobblestone path, the enchanting atmosphere slowing him just a touch. The trees, the fireflies, the sound of crickets was something he was very conscious about admiring. Especially if this was the last time he'd ever lay eyes on it.

The front door came into view as he plodded up the steps to it, knocking hard and loud.

Another speaker buzzed beside him. "It's unlocked," she said weakly.

Without a second to lose, he twisted the knob and pushed it inward, the warmth of her house enveloping him. Without scanning the living room and kitchen to the left of him, he turned his head to the right and ran up the stairs, barging into her room, saying, "You bargained with your rights? Are you out of your goddamn mind?" before letting his vision even focus on her. Trace couldn't help it. It burst out of him. It had festered long enough in his chest. It was time for him to take Lucy's advice and let Syler hear his panicked thoughts.

She sat up from bed, crystal blue eyes wide with alarm. The color in her cheeks was finally reddening back to health, and that Syler Trixie glow he had come to love had returned to her creamy skin since last he had seen her. The lower half of her body was cuddled beneath her white comforter. Her body faced the muted TV on the wall across from her, turned to the channel of the game. Preston was being interviewed.

"Your music rights? Are you serious?" Trace snapped.

The covers bundled at her knees as she maneuvered out of them. Her black silk shorts and matching spaghetti-strapped top showed off her midriff. On her knees, she shuffled to the edge of the bed where Trace met her. When she reached for him, his hands came down on her waist to keep her steady as she rested hers on his shoulders. "Calm down," she breathed out.

He did. Barely. Only because she requested it. His body still tensed with the stress, but his voice lowered. "Calm down? I'm angry, Syler."

She swallowed hard and said, "I can tell."

He clenched his teeth. "If I had known, I would never have signed that stupid contract. You have to know I'd have never asked this of you. I'll be tearing Kyle a new one after this."

"I believe you," she answered, but Trace steamrolled right over her words.

"I wouldn't have," he repeated.

Her hands moved to his cheeks, her blue eyes piercing into his soul, seemingly trying to calm him more as her brows turned upward.

"Read it to me. I want to hear all of it. I want to know every word, every period, every comma, every apostrophe of that stupid contract."

Her eyes brightened, but he still couldn't decipher her emotion that went along with it. All he knew was that she wanted him calm.

So he took a deep breath and continued, "I don't want your music, Syler. And I certainly don't want Kyle having it either. How do I get you out of this? I-I-I broke the contract first. I didn't protect you with Madds."

A gentle shake of her head had Trace's vision zooming into her, everything around her blurring. "It's okay."

His hands loosened around her waist as if knowing she was slipping away already. "How is this okay?"