“Which tour stops?” Lisa sounded obstinate, like she believed she had a right to the information.
“LA, Chicago, New York, and Miami,” I mumbled, while pulling Mona forward and against me by the fabric of her pajamas. I smoothed my palm down the length of her arm, entwining our fingers together. How many hours had I spent thinking about this? Hoping she would still let me hold her hand?
Too many.
We have time.
Mona, splitting her attention between me and her sister, whispered sweetly, “I missed you too.” And that made me smile.
But Lisa made a sound of indignation. “LA? New York? Why the fuck would you do that?” And that made me scowl.
“Lisa.” Mona’s voice was beseeching, and I leaned away to study her profile. She looked fretful, unhappy. Damn.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Curling my free hand into a fist, I gathered a steadying breath, filling my lungs before turning from Mona to face her twin. Never mind that I’d barely slept in almost thirty-six hours. Never mind Mona and I hadn’t seen or spoken to each other in almost a week. Clearly, if I wanted to spend any time with Mona, the sister would have to be dealt with first.
“Let it go,” I said, deepening my voice so I wouldn’t shout. “It’s done, and it has nothing to do with you.”
Lisa seemed to clench her jaw at my statement, her lips tightening, but kept her eyes—shining with accusation—stubbornly pointed at her sister. “You know what he did to me. And now your boyfriend is going to launch his career?” Ignoring me and addressing only Mona, her voice had become softer, and yet definitely angrier. “Fuck that and fuck you! You know that’s not okay. I’m your sister! Don’t just stand there and let him—”
“Hey.” A sudden and savage spike in temper, the single word erupted from me, sounding like a bark, and Lisa’s startled glare cut to mine. “Back off.”
Mona’s sister angled her chin, her eyes narrowing into slits. “You don’t tell me what to—”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t care who you are, no one talks to Mona like that. No one.”
Lisa scoffed, sneering. “Oh yeah? You speak for Mona now? Give me a fucking break. She is one of the most intelligent, amazing, strong, capable people in the world. She’s a genius. She doesn’t need you intervening on her behalf. Mona can more than speak up for herself, and this isn’t any of your business, Abram.”
“No. This isn’t any of your business, Lisa. You’re right about your sister. She is amazing, strong, capable, but she also has a huge and sensitive heart that you don’t seem to have a problem kicking around whenever it suits you. I see you’re angry. I get why. But your anger isn’t going to change a damn thing. Giving Tyler’s song a spot was my decision. Mine. Bullying Mona isn’t going to change my mind. You talk to her like the queen she is or shut the fuck up.”
That made her flinch, her eyes blinking, a crack forming in her stony exterior as though I’d touched on a vulnerability, a fear. “I’m not—I’m not bullying her.” Her gaze, now looking agitated, shifted to Mona at my shoulder. “I would never do that, I would never—”
“Yeah. You are.” Some protective instinct had me stepping to the side, blocking Mona from her view. She didn’t need this, especially not from her own sister. “She’s not responsible for your screwups. No one is responsible but you. You don’t like it? Too bad. You made the shit sandwich, now you have to eat it, all by yourself. Want to whine to someone? Call your brother. But back off Mona.”
“Abram.” Mona squeezed my hand, her voice—again—sounded beseeching, and my name on her lips, in her lovely voice, acted like a pin puncturing my swelling fury.
Turning, I stiffened at the sight of her conflicted gaze, and my stomach dropped. But I fought against the reflex to apologize. I was contrite, but I wasn’t sorry. I’d never be sorry for defending her. Mona’s sister—and her brother—they didn’t know her, didn’t understand how sensitive she was. They didn’t take care of her or look out for her like she deserved, like she needed. They made assumptions that were unequivocally false, and it pissed me off.