Reckless Reunion (The Reckless Rockstar Series)

by Samantha Christy

  I can’t stop smiling. I feel partly responsible for his success. I helped him study five hours a day for several weeks. “Of course you did.”

  He puts me down and suddenly we’re looking at each other in a way we never have. And before either of us knows what’s happening, our lips collide.

  Chapter Forty-one

  Garrett

  Six years ago …

  It’s been two months since Reece broke things off with me, so I didn’t expect her to be at the airport, though deep down I hoped she would be.

  “Honey!” Mom cries after I get through customs. She hugs me tightly. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Rob didn’t come?”

  “He’s working. You know how their hours can be.”

  “Right. So he’s a bona fide lawyer now? I haven’t talked to him much in the past few months. He move out yet?”

  “Yes.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. She’s usually much chattier. “Mom, is everything okay?”

  “Sure. Just happy to see you. Let’s get you home. I had Zola make all your favorites.”

  “Sounds great.”

  In the car, she acts more like her old self. “You should see the house. We painted it. It looks incredible. Your dad wanted brown, but I was able to talk him into gray. We had the pool resurfaced and redid the hardwood floors. I hope we put everything back in your bedroom the way you had it.”

  She goes on and on about home improvements, Dad’s new car, the summer vacation they took. She talks about everything but Reece. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to upset me.

  “How’s Rob doing? I thought you’d spend the drive telling me how proud you are of him. He passed the bar, and he’s probably the youngest lawyer in Dad’s firm.”

  She pats my arm. “I’m proud of both my sons. Tell me all about Australia.”

  I spend the rest of the drive giving her details of the last six months. By the time we get home, she’s practically in tears. I guess she really is proud of me, too.

  “Why don’t you get unpacked and relax before dinner?” she says, helping me carry my suitcases to my bedroom.

  I fetch the keys to my bike off the dresser, right where I left them. “I want to take a ride first.”

  She seems hesitant. “Where are you going?”

  I lie. “Nowhere in particular. I’ve missed riding, that’s all.”

  “But it’s cold.”

  I grab my coat. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Don’t be long. Dinner is in an hour.”

  “I won’t.” I dig something out of my backpack and leave.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m knocking on Reece’s door. I would have stopped for flowers if I hadn’t been on the motorcycle. I remove the small box from my coat pocket, hoping she’ll accept my gift and take me back.

  A man answers the door. I try to see behind him, but he’s big and much older.

  “I’m looking for Reece.”

  “No Reece here,” he says and closes the door.

  I check the number on the door and knock again. Then he’s back.

  “I’m confused. I thought Reece Mancini lived here.”

  “Nobody here but me.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “’bout two weeks.”

  “Oh.” I turn to leave but spin back around. “Do you happen to know where she might have moved?”

  “Now why the hell would I know? Maybe she don’t want to be found. You ever think of that?”

  I put the box away and leave. Before I hop on my bike, I leave her a voicemail. It’s about the twentieth one I’ve left in the past two months.

  “Reece, it’s Garrett. I’m home and standing outside your apartment. Only it isn’t your apartment anymore. Where are you? I only want to talk. Please call me.”

  Back at the house, I unpack, then join my parents in the dining room for dinner. Dad lifts his chin at me. No “Glad to have you back” or “How was it, son?” Some things haven’t changed.

  “Reece moved out of her apartment,” I say.

  They look at each other.

  “You knew?”

  “Can we just enjoy dinner?” Dad grumbles.

  “Where is she? She leave town?”

  “No.”

  “So you know where she is?”

  Mom nods.

  “Why is everyone being so fucking obtuse?”

  “Mouth,” she warns.

  “Have you seen her since she broke up with me?”

  My dad slams his hand on the table. “For chrissake, Sandy. How long do we have to keep up these shenanigans?”

  “What are you talking about? Where is she?” I see fear in Mom’s eyes and swallow hard. “Is she dead?”

  “Heavens, no.”

  Zola places food in front of me that I want nothing to do with. I push the plate away and stand. “Where is she?”

  “Come.” Mom gets up and goes to the kitchen. She writes something on a piece of paper and hands it to me. It’s an address, and it’s not in an area of town Reece can afford.

  “Did you guys rent her an apartment?”

  She hands me keys. “Take my car. It’s too cold to ride your motorcycle now that the sun’s gone down.”

  “Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?”

  “I think it’s best you talk to her.”

  “But she doesn’t want to talk to me. I’ve left her a dozen messages.”

  “You have her address now. You’ll have to make her.”

  I go out to the garage. I’ve been home for two hours and it’s like I’ve come back to an alternate universe. The house is different. So are the cars. My parents are acting weird. Reece has moved. And why didn’t Rob come to dinner? He knew I was coming home.

  It doesn’t take me long to get to her new place. I take in the impressive condos as I weave through the parking lot looking for hers. Did my parents put her up here? I can’t imagine my dad allowing it.

  I approach the door, dragging my feet, afraid of what I might find when I knock. Before I even raise my hand, the door opens, only it’s not Reece I’m looking at. It’s Rob.

  “Mom said you’d be coming over,” he says.

  “She called you? Why would she do that? Why didn’t you come to dinner?”

  “Dad asked me not to. He didn’t want us to cause a scene.”

  “Why would we cause a scene? Where’s Reece?”

  “Gare—”

  Shit is getting weird. Before he can get another word out, I push past him and into Reece’s place, only it doesn’t feel like hers. I recognize an old guitar of hers, but everything else is Rob’s. His collection of whiskey bottles lines one bookshelf. I recognize a chair from our house. On the wall is his framed diploma.

  I quickly peruse the other pictures on the wall. There’s one of Rob and me, then the entire family. But it’s the last one that gives me pause. It’s a picture of Reece and Rob. He’s in a suit. She’s in a long cream dress, holding a bouquet of flowers.

  What the fuck?

  I turn to Rob and zero in on his left hand. He’s wearing a wedding ring.

  A sound comes from another room. I run to investigate and see Reece on the floor, playing with a puppy. “Let me see your left hand,” I demand.

  She looks behind me at Rob. He nods. She holds up her hand, looking as guilty as I’ve ever seen a person.

  My head is spinning. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “We” —Rob gazes at the dog, refusing to make eye contact— “there’s no other way to say it. We got married.”

  My fist connects with his face before he knows it’s coming, and he falls to the floor. Reece screams, “Garrett, no!”

  I laugh bitterly. “I should have known. You’re incapable of being alone. You love every poor bastard who sticks his dick in you.”

  She cringes. “It wasn’t like that. We didn’t … Not until you and I broke up.”

  “You mean not until you dumped me and then ghosted me, knowing I
had no way to convince you otherwise.” She opens her mouth to speak, and I hold up a hand. “Don’t fucking talk to me.” Rob is getting to his feet, and I shove him back to the floor. “Let’s get one thing straight. We’re no longer brothers.”

  They call after me as I rush from the room. Before I reach the front door, I take the box out of my pocket and toss it in their trashcan.

  I drive around for hours. They got married? How in the hell did that happen? Then it dawns on me. Mom and Dad knew. They knew and didn’t tell me. I speed home, surprised I don’t get pulled over. It’s late, but Mom is still up. She’s sitting in the kitchen with a glass of wine. I glare at her.

  “I wanted to tell you,” she says. “But Rob and Reece talked me out of it. They said if you found out what they were doing, you might throw away what you’d worked so hard for and come home to try and stop it.”

  “When?”

  “They married three weeks ago, and before you say anything, please know I didn’t support it. But they were dead set on doing it before you got home. They didn’t want you to have to witness it, knowing it would upset you.”

  I stomp around the table, fire burning in my gut. “Upset me? They didn’t want to upset me? What the hell, Mom? They got married? And they have a fucking dog?”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “You knew and you lied. Every time we talked, you said you hadn’t seen her. Did you go to the wedding?” She looks guilty as hell. “Oh my God, you did.”

  “It was only me and few others. Dad didn’t even go. It wasn’t anything big. A justice of the peace officiated.”

  “Why didn’t you stop them? At least until I could get back and fight for her.”

  “I tried.”

  “You should have told me.”

  She gazes into her wine glass. “Would you have left the program?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I was right not to. There will be other girls, honey, but you’d never have another opportunity like Australia.”

  “I hate you. I hate all of you.” In my room I re-pack my stuff and leave.

  Gunther said our worlds would change when we returned home, but I hadn’t believed it.

  He couldn’t have been more right.

  Chapter Forty-two

  Reece

  The baby is crying. I pat the bed next to me, but nobody’s there. Is he getting her? I can’t remember whose turn it was. I try to fall back asleep but can’t. She’s crying really hard. Maybe she’s hungry again. I get up and go down the hall in a daze. I enter her room, but it’s quiet now. I glance into her crib. She’s not there. It doesn’t even appear to have been slept in. I turn to see Garrett in the doorway, holding her in a blanket. He looks at me with disgust, then lets the baby fall from his arms. “No!” I race to catch her, but it’s only a blanket. It settles in a heap on the floor. I fall to my knees and hold it to my chest.

  “I’ll never forgive you for killing her,” he says and walks into blackness.

  I jolt awake, sweating. Crying. It’s the third time this week I’ve had a nightmare. They’re coming more frequently now. They’d all but gone away until our fight. I rub the thin, raised scar on my wrist, a constant reminder of everything bad I’ve done.

  I hope the rhythmic sway of the bus driving down the highway will rock me back to sleep. It doesn’t. It never does. Not after those dreams. I pull on yoga pants, which is not easy to do in my narrow sleeping bunk, and go up front.

  Marnie, the singer from the band we’re sharing the bus with, is smoking a cigarette. She quickly extinguishes it, knowing I’m not a fan. “It’s okay,” I say. “Just crack the window.”

  She picks up another and lights it. The tattoos on her arm remind me of Garrett. Everything reminds me of the man I haven’t heard from in twenty days.

  “I know you’re bummed he didn’t show up in Winnipeg,” Marnie says.

  She and I have become close during our time on the road. She doesn’t sleep much either, and we often stay up talking. Marnie’s had it much worse than me. She grew up in foster care, too, but she was abused time and time again, turning her to drugs. She’s been through rehab three times. Smoking like a chimney apparently helps. Also, Red Bulls; the fridge in the bus is stocked with them.

  I rub my eyes. “I really thought he might.”

  “Maybe he’ll come around once you get back to New York.”

  “I don’t know. Our friends say he’s in a bad way. He still hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts.”

  “You’ve had over six years to process what happened. He’s had three weeks. Give him some time.”

  Jonah appears from the bunk room, stretching his arms over his head, wearing only his skivvies. He’s got an erection he doesn’t bother hiding. “What’s up?”

  I roll my eyes. “More than I’d like to see.” I turn to Marnie. “See you tomorrow.”

  “You don’t have to leave,” she says. “I can send him back to bed.”

  “It’s okay. I’m exhausted.”

  Jonah moves aside to let me pass. “Thanks for being a good sport.”

  “Yeah, well, someone should be having a good time here.”

  Marnie and Jonah hooked up the first night of the tour. They’re not the only ones on the bus having sex. Carrie and Drew, also in Marnie’s band, are a couple. I’m glad the drone of the bus is loud enough to drown them out. Jolie, the last member of Sunday Brunch, is single and perfectly happy with her status.

  Keith and Cade’s girlfriends flew into Winnipeg, where we had a two-day break. I think Darren was secretly hoping he and Jonah would have something, considering we’ve all heard stories about Jonah being bi.

  I often think how relieved Garrett would have been to know Jonah set his sights on someone else. I talk to Bria or Ella every few days. They say he doesn’t mention me, or maybe they’re just being nice by not revealing how badly he speaks of me.

  I climb up into my small bunk on the top row and hear Keith snoring below. This bus is a far cry from the one I rode on with Reckless Alibi. It has three pods of three bunks in the rear, one on each side and a third on the back wall. We have one small bathroom, which always has a line, a twenty-year-old kitchen, and a small television that rarely gets a signal. The seats making up the bulk of the bus have stained cushions and cigarette burns. Ronni warned me to bring a sleeping bag, so I wouldn’t have to actually touch whatever bedding is in my bunk.

  Had I not traveled on the amazing bus with RA, I might have actually thought this one was cool. I mean, I am on tour, after all. But it’s not the same. Six bands, including mine, are hopping from city to city, playing at fairs and other outdoor venues. I’m not complaining, but apparently Canadians don’t watch much SNL. I’ve only rarely been recognized.

  By the time I quit feeling sorry for myself and realize how tired I am, I can’t sleep due to Keith’s incessant snoring, the one thing the sounds of the bus don’t seem to conceal.

  I pop in my earbuds and listen to music. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only musician who has her own songs on her playlist. Does that make me conceited? The question instantly leaves my head when “Swerve” plays. I remember the night I wrote it, being in his arms and loving him the best I could. But it wasn’t enough to keep me from making all the wrong choices.

  I love him more now, yet I’ve ruined everything again by not being honest with him. Maddox warned me from the beginning that I needed to tell him. Maybe things would be different if I had. He hated me then. Telling him about the baby wouldn’t have made it any worse. Then we could have gotten together without any secrets.

  My phone alerts me to a text. Ronni wants me to call her as soon as possible. I check the time, knowing it’s even later back home. What is she doing up at three in the morning? I climb down from my bunk, go into the bathroom, turn on the water to cover my part of the conversation, and call.

  “I see I’m not the only night owl,” she says.

  I close the toilet lid and sit. “Hard to sleep on the bus
.”

  “I warned you it wouldn’t be all hearts and roses. Are you sitting down?”

  “Yes. Just tell me.”

  “You won’t be coming home on the bus after Vancouver.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have other plans for you.”

  Twenty-two more days, and I was going to see him, whether he wanted me to or not. “Ronni, I’m ready to go home yesterday. And now you want me to extend the tour?”

  “I’m well aware of your personal problems. Being on the road a few more days won’t make a difference. The tour isn’t being extended, but you will have one more gig.”

  I don’t bother arguing. We both know she’ll win every time. “Where?”

  “Bumbershoot,” she says.

  “What?” I stand in excitement and hit my head on the shower nozzle. “Ow. I mean, really?”

  She laughs. “Really. Worked my magic again. Everyone knows you’re too good to be on the current tour, Reece, but it was too late to back out.”

  It’s a dig against the other five bands on the road with me, but I’m too excited to care. “Are you serious? Maybe I’m dreaming.”

  “Pinch yourself or something, because this is real, and we’re only getting started.”

  “Thanks, Ronni. I have to tell the others.”

  “At this hour?”

  “They’d want to know.”

  “I’ll email you the details.”

  “Thank you. Really. I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

  “Of course you do. I’m the best at my job. Talk later.”

  The phone goes dead, and I scream in delight as I exit the tiny bathroom. People slowly come out from their bunks to see why. Even Judd, our second driver, leaves the passenger seat to investigate. Thankfully Jonah and Marnie aren’t bare-assed on the couch; they’re sharing a post-coital smoke.

  I jump up and down. “You aren’t going to believe this.”

  Cade rubs his temples, surely suffering from the hangover he deserves after tying one on last night. “How about you take it down a notch?”