“You have to understand, that was a trying time in our lives.” Her mother paused for dramatic effect. “I’d had a terrible accident and was taking those horrible pills—the ones they’ve taken off the market now—for pain?” She looked at Hank. “What were they called?”
No one answered.
She vaguely remembered her parents having an accident on the way back from an awards show. Her parents had only suffered mild injuries—but they were Hank and CiCi King so it had made front-page news. Was that what she was talking about?
What was she saying? What accident? What pills?
“Anyway.” Her mother shook her head, appearing confused. “It was all a haze. All of it. Poor Hank had his hands full with my health, his mother’s passing, his career, the kids and their career, and then Krystal.” She shook her head. “We thought it was all over and done with. How were we supposed to know? She had come home from camp and said it was all made up for attention.”
Krystal stared at her mother, stunned. Her mother was going to undermine her? Poke holes in her story instead of offering her support? Even now. What was her goal? Or was this true? Her daddy seemed to think so. It was easier to accept… But was this the truth? That was the question. Her mother always—always—had a master plan at work.
“No, she didn’t.” Hank patted his wife’s hand. “You were still taking those pills then, sugar. Krystal never said that. I didn’t know about the pills, you see. CiCi here, she likes to take care of all of us—she didn’t want to worry me. If I had, things would have played out differently. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish I couldn’t go back and fix this all.”
He smiled at Molly. “When Krystal came home, she wouldn’t talk about it anymore. At all.” He sighed. “CiCi is right about my mama passing.”
“I’m so sorry,” Molly murmured. “It sounds like a tough time all around.”
“She and Krystal were real close. Bet you didn’t know, but Krystal loves to bake. She’s wanted to do a cookbook for years.” He smiled at her. “But losing her gramma was hard on her, I think. That, on top of everything… It’s no wonder she stopped talking, with no one to listen. I can’t imagine what you went through, baby girl. Tears my heart out.”
Krystal stared at her father in absolute shock. He’d defended her. Publicly. He’d taken away any doubt her mother’s story might have caused.
Jace was rubbing her upper arm. “She’s strong.”
“She’s awesome.” Heather grinned at her. “A real-life hero.”
“I agree.” Molly nodded.
* * *
Backstage at the Austin Country Music Festival Awards was chaos. From the sheer number of acts rotating in and out of the Austin Opry to the mass of fans crowded in front and behind the venue, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite performers.
“I’m not sure I’m cut out for this.” Jace sat on a stool, tuning his guitar. He and Krystal were supposed to perform their duet soon. Krystal, who’d been avoiding him since Molly Harper left the Kings’ place. Krystal, who would barely look at him. They were supposed to sing their duet?
“Get out of your head.” Travis clapped him on the shoulder. “She’s fine.”
Jace shot him a look. “What sort of reception is she going to get here tonight? She could get booed off the stage, Travis. You think she’ll be fine if that happens?” He waited. The interview with Molly was going to air that night, but the sound bites and commercials removed any doubt what they were going to talk about.
“You two have your first single dropping next week. This scandal sucks, but timing wise, it’s not a bad thing.”
Jace’s fingers paused on the tuning peg. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“C’mon, man. It’s called trying to find a silver lining in this pile of shit thundercloud, okay?” Travis threw his water bottle on the stage. “You think I want to be here?” He turned, his narrowed gaze searching. “I can’t shake the feeling he’s here. Restraining order or not.”
“Not if he wants to live,” Jace said. He wasn’t one for violence, but he’d had some pretty vivid daydreams about pummeling the shit out of Tig Whitman. And they brought him great joy.
Travis chuckled. “Right?” He sighed. “She’s putting you through hell, isn’t she?”
He didn’t answer.
“You really love her, don’t you?” Travis’s disbelief was irritating.
“Yes, I love her.” He slid the guitar strap over his neck and stood, looking down the hall toward the side entrance. Krystal and her father had decided to stay in the bus until their performance. After that, they’d slip out. Jace would have gone, too, if Heather weren’t in the audience with Brenna, her college roommate. No matter how many times Heather insisted she didn’t need a babysitter, he didn’t want the press getting to her like they were trying to get to him.
“This is hitting her hard,” Travis said.
“I know.” He nodded. “It kills me that she has to go through this. I just, you know, want to be there for her.”
“You ready?” Travis asked, nodding behind him.