Because this was my life. What I lived for. My duty.
My brother’s legacy.
I wouldn’t ever let that go.
I blew out a strained breath and turned my focus on Ash. Dude was big and burly, covered in tattoos, menacing if he wasn’t always sporting a grin. But right then he looked like he was about five seconds from losing it.
He swiped an agitated palm over his mouth. “You’ve got to make sure I’m here when the baby comes, man. Need to be here for at least a couple of weeks. Can’t leave Willow alone. I mean, fuck…if I missed it?” His expression was bleak. “Promise me, Anthony. Promise me you make sure that window happens.”
Anthony rocked forward, leaning on his desk. “God, of course, Ash. You think I’d ask anything more of you?”
He glanced around at everyone. “You know I hate even making you all decide. If I could make it simpler, I would. But it’s my job to look out for you as a band. It’s my job to present it to you when there’s an opportunity unlike any you’ve ever had. Now it’s on all of you to decide.”
I just sat there silent, letting everyone else take the lead the way I always did. Maybe it was the feeling I never quite belonged. Or maybe it was simply because I never felt I’d earned the right.
“Okay then, we’re decided?” Austin asked.
Lyrik nodded. “I’m in.”
Ash shook his arms out, like he was pumping himself up. “Okay.”
Anthony lifted his chin toward me and all eyes shifted my direction. “Zee?”
I figured it wasn’t even a question. “You know I’m game.”
I always was.
After the meeting, Anthony pulled me aside, his voice hushed. “Any news on what’s going on with Veronica?”
I expelled a frustrated huff. “She’s still maintaining she can do whatever she wants with that money. Isn’t telling me anything.” I shook my head. “Still can’t believe she’s back down in that shithole. That she’d take him there.”
Anthony eyed me where we had our heads bowed together, our conversation muted. “Are you really surprised? She’s been manipulating you from day one, Zee.”
Anger swelled. “You think I don’t know that? I didn’t have a whole lot of choices, though, did I?”
“Didn’t you?” he challenged.
Old rage, compiled for too many years, fisted my hands, the thought of it more than I could take. “You know what she would’ve done.”
“And that very well may have been another lie, too. You know nothing comes out of her mouth that you can trust.”
“Then what the fuck do I do?”
“You need to decide what it is you want, Zee. You have to keep going along with all her bullshit demands or stand up and demand a change.”
Anger and worry thrummed through my blood. “God…I hate the idea of confusing Liam. He loves his mom, Anthony, and up until I got back from Savannah this last time, I would have sworn she loved him more than anything else.”
Up until then, I hadn’t really given a shit how she’d treated me. Only thing that mattered was the way she treated him.
“Are you worried?”
I ducked my head, scratching my fingers through my short beard, before I eyed him straight. “Yeah…I’m fucking terrified. You know she’s always been a wild card. But in the end, I could always trust her to put him first. Care for him the way he deserves to be.”
Anthony shifted in agitation and doubt. “You think she’s slipped?”
Terror threatened to seize my heart. “Don’t even want to contemplate the thought.”
That was the one promise I’d made clear there would never be any breaking. She had to stay clean.
For good.
Compassion lowered his voice. “You might have to.”
Looking toward the ceiling, I blew out a breath. “I know, Anthony, I know. And now I’m looking at being gone for seven months?” Worry doubled at the thought. “I’ve left so many times before and was able to trust her. Not sure I can do that this time.”
“Just…lie low while you’re here. She’s probably only looking for something else to hold over your head. Don’t give the paps anything juicy to talk about. Smile for the camera. Sign some autographs. Your reputation is squeaky clean. Keep it that way and she won’t have anything to say.”
I rubbed a hand over my face. “Feel like I’ve been lying low my whole damned life. Been stuck in the same spot since I was twenty, pretending I’m someone I’m not. Don’t know how much more of it I can take. I’m going out of my mind, man. I need to know he’s safe.”
Grief pressed and vied for dominance, itching at my skin and nagging at my spirit. Could barely force out the declaration. “It’ll be seven years next month. I’m not sure I can keep going on like this.”
Understanding dawned on Anthony’s face. “I know, Zee, I know.”
Chapter Thirteen
Zee ~ Sixteen Years Old
Zachary shouldered into the packed house. Music blared, and his heart rate increased as he stepped into the dense fray. Bodies were crammed wall to wall, and voices shouted to be heard above the heavy bass pounding from the speakers.
Chest tight, Zee’s uneasy gaze roamed. That discomfort grew as his attention traveled over girls wearing next to nothing, red cups clutched in their hands and even redder lipstick smeared over their lips. Men hovered on the outskirts. Like predators on the hunt, ready to strike.
That apprehension only intensified when his sight landed on a guy who sat on the couch, leaning over the coffee table and cutting lines, two over-eager chicks salivating at his side.
A warning flared at the forefront of his mind. It was that spot inside that told him to just turn around and go. He wasn’t supposed to be there. This was so not his scene. At least not anymore.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever witnessed it before.
For years, he’d tagged along behind Mark, clinging to his coattails and praying one day he might get the chance to be even half as cool as his big brother. Growing up, Mark had been the greatest thing in his world.
That hadn’t changed.
But it’d finally come to the point where Zee had to make a choice. He’d known he couldn’t continue to hang with this crowd.
Sure.
Music was music.
But that didn’t mean they weren’t two entirely different worlds, and Zee couldn’t be a part of both of them and expect to reach his dreams and aspirations.
Everything came at a cost.
With a sacrifice.
But tonight that didn’t seem to matter. He pressed on, maneuvering through the crowd.
He’d promised.
And the truth was, Zee wanted to be there for him.
“Zee, there you are.”
Relief barreled through him when he saw his brother sitting at a high top table just off the kitchen. A cigarette hung from between his lips, and one hand was waving Zee over.
He rushed that direction.
Mark slung his arm around his shoulder and stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray. “About time, asshole. Thought you weren’t gonna show.”
A smile pulled at Zee’s mouth. “Told you I’d be here.”
Mark squeezed him, jostling him at his side. “Then I really shouldn’t have had any doubts, should I?”
With the hand not hanging around Zee’s shoulder, Mark pointed at him, voice elevated as he talked to the group of people crushed around the table. People Zee hadn’t ever seen before.
“This guy right here? My baby brother? Best dude in the world. Can count on him for absolutely anything.”
Affection pressed against Zee’s ribs. It was that same feeling of belonging that engulfed him whenever he was around his brother.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Zee said, grinning at his brother who was always playing him up. Making Zee a bigger deal than he actually was.
Mark shook his head, his voice too eager, his pupils nearly obliterating the brown of his eyes. “Seriously, man. You’re the fuck
ing best. Don’t know what the hell I’d do without you.”
He looked back at his friends. “Goddamned brilliant, too. This asshole?”
Mark was back to jabbing at him again. “Got accepted into some kind of genius school. Kid’s a prodigy. Can play a piano like none other. Sits down and composes a song like he’s been working on it for years. Has been doing it since he was about three. It’s like some kind of Beethoven shit. Next to him, I look like a pathetic hack.”
Mark smiled at him. Too wide and reckless. Zee knew he was fucked up. High on something. He didn’t know what, but it seemed like lately he always was.
Zee hated it. Worried about him nonstop. It was better when he was around. When he could keep tabs on his brother and make sure he wasn’t getting himself in too deep. Guilt grew in his chest, and there he was again, wondering if it was worth it, stepping out of the world he understood and into one where he wasn’t sure he would ever quite fit.
Remnants of the song he’d been working on churned in his mind and twitched like an unfed hunger in his fingers.
He had to believe making that choice was right.
But right then, neither of those things seemed to matter.
The only thing that mattered was that Mark’s pride in him was real. Almost as real as the pride Zee felt for his brother. “Stop it, man,” Zee told him. “What I have going down in my life doesn’t mean anything tonight. We’re here to celebrate you.”
Zee tightened his hold on Mark’s shoulder, his voice low as he muttered it toward his brother’s ear. “You guys made it. You did it. Nabbed yourselves a label. That’s legit. I’m so fucking proud of you…don’t think you have any clue how proud I am.”
He wanted to tell him to guard it. Protect it. To revel in it, but also to make sure he didn’t let it slowly kill him, either.
Because everything good also had a flip side.
An underbelly.
And Zee couldn’t stand watching Mark waste away in it.
But he didn’t say anything, and instead kept it to himself. He didn’t want to ruin the moment.
“Not too bad, right? Now it’s gonna be you watching me on the big stage. No more of that dive shit.” Mark squeezed him again. “Gonna take care of you, man. Always. We’ve got this.”
Zee held tight to his brother. His best friend. The guy he’d always wished he could be.
“We’ve got this.”
Mark grinned as he rocked back, arm still slung around Zee’s shoulders as he jabbed his finger at him again, voice lifted too loud. “Someone get this kid a shot and someone to fuck.”
“Shit…Mark…come on,” Zee muttered, wanting to throttle his brother for being so damned crass all the time. But he guessed he really didn’t mind when he tossed back the shot glass that swirled with shimmery black liquid. He minded it even less when a chick wound her way over to him and slithered up to his side.
No.
He was sure he didn’t really mind it at all.
Chapter Fourteen
Alexis
“Are you ready to talk about it?”
I glanced over my shoulder and found Chelsey sitting at the small round table tucked beneath the window in my kitchen. Midmorning light poured inside, and shimmery silver rivers splashed across the table and tumbled onto the floor.
My older sister stared at me, fiddling with the string of her hot tea bag.
Worry.
It was blatant.
I wondered if it was backward that I was in a constant state of worry over Avril, and Chelsey seemed to be in the same constant state for me.
Or maybe it was perfectly normal.
A typical hierarchy.
I turned back to the dishes I was loading into the dishwasher. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Come on, Alexis. You know exactly what I’m talking about. More than three weeks have passed, and you haven’t said a single thing to me about that night since I dropped you off here after we left the station.”
Our mother had worked two different jobs to support us when we were growing up. Mom had relied so much on Chelsey to be there for me and Avril, and the four of us had become a team that had to work.
Somewhere inside, I knew Chelsey felt just as responsible for Avril straying from our tight-knit flock as I did. She just chose to handle it in an entirely different way.
A sigh filtered free. “I’m not sure there’s anything more to say.”
Her cup clanked behind me, adding to the weighted tension climbing into the stagnant air. “Has she called you since then?”
I hesitated.
“Damn it, Alexis. Tell me you haven’t gone back down there. God…did you give her more money?”
Setting the rag aside, I slowly turned and leaned back on the counter.
I loved my sister. I did. She wanted the best for me. But it seemed what she’d forgotten was we wanted the best for Avril, too.
A shot of defensiveness rose in my chest. “I did give her some money, but I didn’t go all the way back down there.”
Thoughts of Zee sprang into my mind. The heat of his stare as he’d leaned against that wall. A shiver shook through my body.
Shaking her head, Chelsey’s gaze dropped to her tea. “She’s not only putting you in physical danger, Alexis, but also she’s robbing you. Robbing you of your security, of the things you might want to have or do. You work hard at a job I know you really don’t even like, and then you turn around and give it to her. That is so messed up.”
“I like my job.” Why did my argument sound so weak?
“You tolerate your job,” she disagreed, finally lifting her eyes back to me as she tilted her head to the side. “You think I don’t know you’d rather be doing a million other things than working in an attorney’s office?”
“I don’t know how my job has anything to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with it. It’s just another example of you always doing what benefits everyone else instead of yourself. You make great money, but you do it so you can support your deadbeat sister. Before Mom moved to Iowa, you gave up most of your weekends to visit her, and you don’t go out because you volunteer your time.”
I started to defend myself, but she held up a hand. “Before you say something, I’m well aware there’s nothing wrong with wanting to help other people whenever you can. But when was the last time you did anything solely for yourself?”
My gaze dropped to my fuzzy white socks. Maybe it would hide what I knew was ripping through my expression.
The redness and heat and vestiges of the man who’d steadily staked claim after claim.
Stealing my thoughts and my dreams and my breath.
I should have known she’d catch it.
“Oh…” It slid from her like an aha, curiosity blazing free. I wasn’t even looking at her, but I totally knew she had that smile on her face. The smug one that said she’d caught me red-handed.
“Alexis.” She said my name like a prod.
Warily, I peeked over at her.
She was grinning and circling her finger in my direction like proof. “Tell me what that’s all about.”
I cleared my throat, but the words still cracked. “I…I am doing something for myself.”
Her brows rose, a nudge for me to continue.
“I’m…learning how to play piano.”
“You are?” Her smile widened. “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s amazing.”
“It’s new.”
“Where are you taking lessons?”
This was the part I wasn’t sure I wanted her to know.
Chair legs skidded against the tile. Chelsey stood, taking the three steps it took for her to cross the kitchen. She jutted her hip into the counter two feet away from me. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this story than you’re letting on?”
I chewed at the inside of my cheek, wondering how much to give her. Because she was going to want answers, and I had no idea what any of this even meant.
; She touched my shoulder. “Hey…I’m your sister. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”
I turned to look at her. “I do know that.” My tone was cautious. “The guy who saved me…”
Her eyes flared with surprise. “The drummer?”
I nodded.
“You’re kidding me.” It was a dumbfounded breath.
I wrung my hands. “He came to check on me a couple of days after everything. And…we kind of became friends. He offered to teach me how to play.”
Skepticism seeped into her chuckle. “Your expression isn’t exactly saying friends.”
I clutched the counter with both hands, as if it might support me. “Because I’m not sure that’s what I want us to be.”
Concern climbed back to her face. “That’s a gorgeous man, Alexis. Believe me, I get the attraction. That morning outside the station was kind of…intense between the two of you. You obviously went through something together. But chasing a guy like that? It doesn’t seem your style. And the rock star drummer actually plays piano? I just…” Her words trailed off with her own questions.
I understood the paradox. The way that boy looked, so bad and bold on the outside, covered in ink and that mystery each day I wanted more and more to discover. But what she didn’t recognize was the vulnerability that glowed from the inside.
My head shook. “He’s different.”
Incomparable to anyone I’d ever met.
“You need to be careful, Alexis,” she murmured the quiet warning. “You always run headfirst into everything without thinking through the consequences.”
Softly, I scoffed. “You’re always telling me I need to get out and do something for myself, then the second I do, you start telling me to be careful. I’m twenty-five. I’m not a child anymore, Chelsey. You have to stop thinking you need to question and criticize everything I do.”
She touched my shoulder, the words winding with the lightest tease. “But you’ll always be my baby sister.”
Stand: A Bleeding Stars Stand-Alone Novel Page 9