by Kylie Walker
“Honey, I’m fine,” her father reassured her from the bed.
Chloe’s mom glanced at her with a pleasant smile. Ever since the diagnosis, it was rare to see her do anything other than a small grin.
“It’s nice of the band to give you a leave of absence,” she mentioned casually.
Chloe nodded and took a sip of her water bottle. “Yep. They are great people.”
“I guess it also helps that you are best friends with the Marketing Director,” Ashley chuckled.
Chloe swirled her index finger in the air in agreement. “Yes. That profoundly helps the cause.”
In reality, Chloe was torn. She loved action and adventure. Her life was usually full of vibrancy and fun ventures. She missed being on the road, especially now that the tour was getting ready to begin in full swing for the European leg. But she also had a responsibility to Emelia and the band that she was going to do her job and hold up her share of the work. The band needed them. They were a great marketing team that showcased them across social media, blasting them in the press and keeping them front and center in fan’s eyes. It was a lot of work; too much for Emelia to do on her own.
As long as she was confident her dad wouldn’t take a turn for the worst, she’d initiated a deal to where she would fly out to join the crew once the tour began. She was excited about the journey and was looking forward to the distraction from her father’s sickness, even if her mind pegged her with a pang of guilt for even getting excited in the first place. She’d worry about him every moment she was gone.
Chloe stood up and stretched. “Come on,” she flicked her wrist in Ashley’s direction. “Let’s allow these lovebirds to get some rest.”
She gave her mom a warm embrace and a sympathetic smile. “Night mama. Be strong for him, okay?”
Her mother nodded and sighed, then raked a hand through her wispy blond hair. “I’m going to try.”
Chloe said the same thing to her mother every night, then ended the conversation by giving her father a soft kiss on the forehead. She gently closed the door and walked down the hallway beside Ashley.
“I won’t be able to sleep,” Ashley confessed.
Ashley was a few years younger than Chloe. She’d had her own apartment but moved back in when their father received the dreadful diagnosis. She was committed, alongside Chloe, to helping their parent through the stress of multiple doctor visits, chemotherapy, radiation and everything else that came with the territory of cancer treatment.
“Me either,” Chloe chuckled as she pushed open her bedroom door. “Want to come in and hang out for a little while?” She nudged her chin in the direction of the room in invitation.
Ashley’s face flooded with relief. “Yes,” she breathed out. “That would be great actually.”
It wasn’t late, but their father needed lots of rest and sleep, so they were usually left with most of the evening to be leisure time. Too much free time wasn’t necessarily a good thing. It gave them too much time to dwell and worry. They needed to shift their focus to something else.
“I’m just grateful that the band is cutting me some slack.” Chloe tucked her leg underneath her as she sat down on the bed.
“Yeah.” Ashley sat in a chair opposite her sister. She began pulling at a loose string on a navy blue throw blanket beside her. “You are lucky that way.”
“I wonder what they are up to.” Chloe smiled at the memories that flooded her mind from the last tour around the states.
“Is it amazing?” Ashley’s eyes twinkled with intrigue. “I mean, knowing the band and getting to travel around with them?”
Chloe shrugged humbly. “Yeah. I suppose it’s pretty fun.” Her mouth cracked into a wide grin. “Maybe I’ll bring you along one day, and you can meet the band.”
Ashley shrieked and clapped her hands together. “Are you serious?”
Chloe laughed. “Sure. Why not?”
Ashley stood up and wrapped her arms around her sister’s neck. “You are the best.”
“Okay.” Chloe nodded assertively. “As soon as they get back from Europe, I’ll make a point to introduce you.”
It was the least she could do. Ashley was suffering a lot with the blow of their father’s cancer. They all needed a little light and joy coming in every once again.
Her phone rang. She glanced down at it and noticed it was Emelia calling.
“That’s weird,” she frowned, glancing up at Ashley. “It has to be pretty late there.”
“Where are they?” Ashley asked as Chloe picked up the phone to answer.
“Amsterdam...” Chloe trailed off and then, “Hello?” as she placed the phone to her ear.
“Chloe?” Emelia’s voice sounded muffled as if she were trying to secretly whisper in order to not be heard by others.
“Emelia?” Chloe responded. “What’s up?”
“I have some bad news,” Emelia’s voice was pained and sorrowful as she cut straight to the point. There wasn’t going to be any small talk leading up to this conversation.
Chloe swallowed hard. Her throat was dry. This sounded bad, and she didn’t even know what was wrong yet.
“What happened?” She said shallowly.
If this was meant to be a private conversation, that concept was unintentionally immediately negated by the fact that Ashley was sitting there, listening intently.
“It’s Roman’s sister,” Emelia said regretfully. “She’s been in an accident.”
Chloe could hear the sound of muffled voices in the background where Emelia was. “What kind of accident?” She gulped, a nervous knot forming in her belly. She was worried for Roman.
She’d always had a bit of a crush on him; had hoped they might get to spend some time getting to know one another. But things hadn’t turned out as she had expected. It was for the best, though.
There was nothing she could do to rewind the past, but it was because she was trying to protect her future. Getting involved with a celebrity rock star seemed out of her reach and unnatural at the time, but situations changed and evolved. It was just the course of the universe.
“She passed away, unfortunately,” Emelia stated gravely. She was engaged to Trevor, Roman’s best friend and lead singer of the band.
Chloe gasped, and her hand instinctively cupped over her mouth. “Oh no. No. That can’t be true.” She shook her head in denial. She glanced over at Ashley whose brow was furrowed in concern.
“How? When?” She was in disbelief as she guiltily pressed Emelia for answers.
“In a car accident, earlier this morning,” Emelia said. “We don’t have all the details of how it happened yet.”
Chloe’s heart was shattered for Roman. Heartbreak encircled her. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered even though it wasn’t enough. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Not right now,” Emelia said. “I’m waiting on Trevor and Roman to catch a red-eye back to Chicago. I’ll call you when we land, but it will probably be sometime tomorrow.”
“Of course.” Chloe nodded, her eyes blurring over with fresh tears. “Keep in touch. I’m right here if you need me.”
Emelia hung up, and Chloe filled Ashley in on what had happened. Ashley was horrified for the family. It was all too much to deal with, especially on top of their own grief they were dealing with in their father’s illness.
Later in her room, Chloe’s mind drifted back to Hawaii. A shirtless Roman, so tall and lean and tanned, striding over to her on the beach. He’d sat down next to her, grabbing one of those rare moments of quiet. There were no fans on the private beach, just the band members and their guests. This stretch was all theirs. How he’d found her, she didn’t know if that had even been his intention.
They’d started talking, and suddenly, she was in his lap, straddling him as they kissed. His strong arms had lifted her, her legs hooking around his waist as he rose from his seat in the sand and carried her into the ocean. They fell backward. The temperate water engulfing them, urging them which created the p
erfect backdrop to his hands all over her body. His lips were trailing up and down her neck, his tongue flicking her nipples as he moved aside her bikini top. The next thing she knew, they were having drinks in his hotel room, making love in his giant bed. Not once. Not twice, but over and over until the sun came up.
Chloe wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. She’d never sleep tonight, not with those memories playing in her head. Poor, poor Roman. Staring at her phone, she wondered whether she should pick it up and call him or give him privacy during this difficult time.
He’d asked her out, officially out, like on a date, the next morning in Hawaii. She’d turned him down, said she wasn’t ready for a relationship. And she hadn’t spoken to him since.
Chloe turned off her phone and pulled up the covers.
Privacy it was.
Chapter Three
Could grief really kill a man? He was about to find out.
Roman had never felt like breaking until now. His sister robbed of life in her prime. She’d been engaged to be married, had sent him twenty pictures of wedding dresses only a week ago to get his opinion. Every time he closed his eyes, Roman saw her smiling face as she posed in the dresses. His heart ached for the brother in law he’d never get to enjoy, the memories she’d never get to make.
His shoulders hung, his mouth pulled into a thin line. He’d never struggled with tears or an ache like this in his heart. He’d never experience this ripping, shattering grief. Shoving his hands hard into his front pockets, he started walking, not even sure if he was headed in the right direction. He didn’t know anything right now except that he had to get away. Far, far away.
“Hey man, wait up.”
Trevor trotted up to him, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder as they walked side by side. The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was actually soothing. Too many people had been filling the space with empty words. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted people to stop saying what they thought he wanted to hear.
Trevor took a breath and then hesitated. “I don’t know what to say.”
Roman looked straight ahead. “Then don’t say anything.”
His voice snapped, and he immediately regretted it. He was the level-headed one, the one who stood guard over everyone else when they needed it. Fuck with his friends, and you’d better watch your back because he didn’t take disrespect toward those he loved. Yet, he couldn’t control his emotions around his best friend, even when they caused him to be an asshole. Trevor bumped lightly into his arm, let the contact linger before breaking it. It wasn’t a word, but it spoke loud and clear, and it was precisely the right thing to say.
He'd known Trevor for what felt like a lifetime. They’d bonded in high school, and after Trev’s parents were charged with child neglect, he’d come to live with Roman and his family. Stephanie had been close to both of them, yet Roman felt her loss to his bones as if his own flesh had been ripped from his body. Did Trevor feel that way, too?
He was too scared to ask.
They kept walking.
They had a few hours until their flight left yet, so Trevor had suggested they find a pub and grab a drink to kill time. But Roman’s aimless wandering led them down narrow alleys that turned into a maze. He didn’t mind. The more walking, the better. It soothed his mind, sort of calmed the raging beast inside.
Finally, Trevor stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Look, I know how close you and Steph were. I loved her, too. And I have to say this, Roman; I have to say it.”
Silence stretched between them. “Say what?”
“You’re my brother in all the ways that matter, Roman. Please don’t forget that. You always have me.”
Roman didn’t respond, just nodded in acknowledgment. Speaking wasn’t something he could do easily. Not without the threat of tears finally winning and reducing him to a raging, crying mess. He thought maybe they should hug it out or something, but that would be awkward, so he put his head down and kept moving.
“Let’s go this way.” Trevor pointed down a dimly lit street made of cobblestone. A collection of water had pooled in certain places, and both Roman and Trevor had to jump to avoid stepping right through them.
The glow of the yellowy, murky street lamps created a reflection off the puddles that shimmered in the street. If Roman wasn’t such a mess, he might enjoy the cozy and quaint feel of this charming little side street. He loved being adventurous, traveling to new places. Usually, he counted his blessings and was grateful for the opportunities to see the world and play music at the same time. Right now, he was just ready to find that pub and down a couple before they needed to get back to the airport.
Suddenly, the little hairs stood up on the back of Roman’s neck. His senses were sharpened, alerted. The sensation was unexpected. Considering how numb he was inside, he was surprised he could notice anything through it. He halted his stride and glanced around, the sense of unease growing.
“What?” Trevor eyed him skeptically and glanced over his shoulder. “Why did you stop walking?”
“Did you hear that?”
Trevor shrugged. “Hear what?”
“That noise?” Roman quizzed.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Trevor confessed. “Stray cat or something, probably. It’s Amsterdam. Probably a prostitute lurking in the shadows waiting to get her claws in you.”
Roman didn’t acknowledge the jest. He made a circle, just to be sure something worse than a hooker wasn’t out there.
Nothing. Christ, his troubled mind was drumming up demons now. The sensitive hairs on the back of his neck still prickled, but he moved forward, one foot in front of the other. There was going to have to be a new normal in his life now; he might as well try his best to get used to the feeling of emptiness hanging inside his chest like a lead balloon.
The sound of feet rustling behind them made Roman spin. Trevor followed suit, the two of them tensing and bracing for whatever it was. Two men in all black with masks over their faces came at them. Roman glanced over his shoulder just in time to see a third man coming at them from the back like a coward. In a flash, the man had him in a bear hug from behind.
“Get the fuck off me!” Roman made a twist-spin, breaking the man’s grip. Taking a step back, Roman didn’t get far as the man grabbed him again and pressed a knife against the side of his neck. The coolness of the steel burned Roman’s skin. Slowly, he put his hands up, not daring to look at Trevor. His mind whirled to plan for the both of them to get out of this.
What the hell was happening? He’d been jumped once before, in Chicago. He’d been younger then, fast, and hadn’t been completely taken by surprise. Though every inch of his body screamed to fight back, to break free, the rational part of his brain said to take this carefully.
“Easy, easy. We don’t want any trouble.”
“Good,” the masked man behind him breathed into Roman’s ear, creating a pungent, oniony smell that made his stomach roll over. “We don’t want no trouble either,” he said in poorly executed English over a heavy Dutch accent.
The masked men started leading them down the alleyway where light faded into shadows. Roman’s heart pounded inside his chest, as a slow rage boiled deep within. His grief had been twisting itself for a while now, demanding an outlet. It was methodically taking over his rational brain.
He dropped his voice so only his attacker could hear. “I’m giving you one more warning before I literally kick the shit out of you. Get your hands off me.”
The man snorted, pressing the knife deeper against Roman’s neck as if to make a point. Fine. The guy had a knife. Roman had an insane anger inside that made him feel superhuman and self-destructive. If he got stabbed, fine, but maybe he could give his friend a chance to get away. Roman pulled away, but the perp’s grip tightened.
“I would be careful if I were you,” the man sneered.
Roman glanced over at Trevor who walked with his hands up, his eyes lined in anger. Roman’s blood
boiled, his temper just begging to be unleashed. Fuck. This.
Roman drove his elbow back, using all the blunt force in his furious body, making contact with the man’s gut. A hard grunt was his reward. The man arched back but didn’t let go or drop the knife. Roman took the opportunity, jamming his elbow back again, swiveling at the same time. The blade zinged along his neck as he spun, coming face to face with the man in the mask. A flurry of activity behind him said Trevor was probably in the struggle for his life. Roman had to end this now.
He gave a swift right hook, slamming beneath the man’s chin and driving him back. Without hesitation, he gave a left hook, then a straight punch to the temple. The perp stumbled backward, the knife clanking onto the cobblestone. Roman grabbed it and shoved it in the back waist of his jeans.
Turning to Trevor, he rushed one masked man while his friend took care of the other. A flurry of fists and grunts filled the space. Roman lost count of the punches he threw; he didn’t recognize how hard he hit or how often. Not until he realized he was straddling a guy, his knuckles wet from blood that seeped from the man’s mask.
“Roman, get up.” Trevor grabbed the back of his jacket and tugged. “Get. Up!”
He stumbled off the perp, feeling like he’d had a blackout or something. His hands ached, his wrists on fire. Two of the masked men were on the ground; the other stood back with his hands held high. “Calm down, boys. Calm down.”
Roman panted hard. What had he done? His subconscious had taken over; his actions independent from his mind. The perp writhed, holding his head between his hands, moaning in deep agony. The sounds should have inflicted guilt, but they didn’t. Roman didn’t feel anything he was just, empty. Glancing around, he noted his friend had one perp at knifepoint. The other stood with his hands up. There were other people there, a small crowd that seemed to have seeped from the walls. It was deadly quiet. Too quiet for that many people. And they were all staring at him.
Still, he couldn’t seem to pull himself out of the murderous rage.
With one swift kick, Roman buried his boot-clad foot into the guy’s gut. The man roared with pain, thrashing on the wet cobblestone beneath him.