Detour Complete Series

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Detour Complete Series Page 50

by Kacey Shea


  “Yeah, well, we have too.” Austin scoffs. “Dude, we going or what? The ladies don’t give a shit how pretty you look if we’re not there. Shit. Sorry, bro.”

  “It’s fine. She’s out of it. Let’s go.” The room blankets in darkness with Coy’s words, and the door bangs shut. I should be troubled by his plans but instead, relief floods my gut knowing he won’t be coming back for a few hours. I should be pissed. He’s going out to meet other women. As his girlfriend that should hurt, but I can’t find it in me to care. Instead I’m more upset that Sean left. I don’t want to face the truth of my current situation. This is no way to live. I can’t hide under these covers forever, but for now that’s what I intend to do.

  61

  Sean

  My plane lands in Columbus and I catch an Uber to my parents’ home. Growing up, we moved around a lot for my dad’s work. When they relocated to Ohio, I was already out of high school and traveling with Three Ugly Guys. But there are little things—the throw blanket my mom crocheted for the back of the couch; the canvas painting of fruit above the kitchen table; the lingering aroma of baking bread—that are reminiscent of the home I grew up in.

  “Sean!” My mother wraps her arms around me. “It’s so good to see you, Son.”

  “It’s good to see you too. Dad at work?”

  “Yeah. He’ll be home soon. I’m glad you messaged me because I had my book club and would have been at Lisa’s tonight.”

  “You don’t have to change your plans, Mom.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She waves me off and walks into the kitchen. “It’s not every day my boy comes to visit. I invited your sister over for dinner.”

  I take a seat on the barstool and she pours us both a glass of iced tea. “Mira still with that one guy?” My lips pull up with a smile as my mom’s hands go to her hips.

  “No. I swear that girl can’t keep a man to save her life. Meanwhile, Becca can’t stop popping out little ones.” She acts put off, but we both know the truth.

  “Like you don’t love having four grandkids?” My oldest sister has lived all over, but her husband is currently stationed in Hawaii. By the photos she texts us all weekly, I don’t think she’s ever gonna want to leave.

  My mom takes the seat next to me and with a smile she pats my hand. “I love my grandbabies, but they’re too far away and we don’t visit often enough.” There’s a sadness in her eyes and a good dose of guilt punches me in the gut for not doing better. Eva can’t help the distance because her husband is in the Marines, but I should show up rather than call.

  “I’m sorry I don’t visit more often.” My brow furrows and I trace shapes into the condensation on my glass.

  “Don’t. We raised you all to chase your dreams, wherever they lead. Your dad and I are so proud of you, Sean.” Her arm wraps around my shoulders and she gives me a brief squeeze before leaning back into her chair and taking a drink. “Besides, you’re here now.”

  “That I am.” I tip my glass up and take a long swallow, trying not to remember exactly why I felt the need to hop on a plane. It’s no use, though; all I think about is Jess.

  “Not that I don’t love my favorite son . . .”

  “Only son.”

  “Favorite son. What do we owe the pleasure of this spontaneous visit? Everything okay?”

  “It’s fine.” I lie because I can’t burden my mom with this. Her eyes hold a weariness as it is and I don’t want to disappoint her. “I missed you guys, and sometimes . . . I guess sometimes I need help remembering who I am.”

  “Sean.” She stands and gives me a hug from the side and drops a kiss on the back of my head. “You are a good man.”

  That right there is why I can’t spill my problems to my mom. A good man wouldn’t sleep with another man’s girlfriend. Or at least he’d have the decency to feel shame afterward. I’m not that good of a man. The admiration and pride in my mom’s eyes is something I can’t take away.

  “Now . . . I already made those rolls you love, the steaks are marinating, and we’ll have potatoes and corn. Your dad’s bringing home a pecan pie because I didn’t have time to whip one up.”

  A chuckle escapes my lips and my stomach rumbles with the mere mention of my favorite foods. “You spoil me, Mom.” I’m gonna have to run extra hard tomorrow morning so my pants still fit.

  “That’s my job.” She grins and points down the hall. “I made up the guest bed, but didn’t have time to clear the closet, though it doesn’t look like you brought much.”

  “It’s fine, Mom. Honestly, it’s perfect.”

  Mom works in the kitchen, and as usual, she refuses my help. I don’t argue with her as it’s pretty much useless. She enjoys cooking and baking, and this is her way of showing love. Between work she shares stories of my nieces and nephews, and I almost feel normal again. This is what time with my family does. This is why I’m here.

  She slides the potatoes in the oven and sets a timer for an hour just as the front door slams.

  “Hey, Mom! It’s Mira.”

  “In the kitchen!” My mom holds her finger over her lips and winks.

  “What smells so goo—” It’s all I can do not to laugh as my sister’s gaze finds mine. “What the—? Sean! I didn’t know you were coming home!” My sister shouts, drops her bag, and closes the space between us until her arms squeeze my waist. “It’s sure good to see you, little brother.”

  “You too, Mira.” I chuckle because even though I’m the baby of the family, the top of her head doesn’t even reach my chin.

  She pulls back and gives Mom a quick hug before narrowing her gaze. “How long you staying?”

  I shrug and slide my hands into my pockets. “Not sure yet. We leave for our summer tour . . . next Wednesday, actually.”

  One eyebrow lifts and I just know she’s not gonna let that go. “What? And Bedo let you have a break? He feeling okay these days?”

  “I . . . um.” My gaze bounces between Mira and my mom, who now won’t stop staring. “Actually, I was the one who gave myself the break.”

  “You aren’t quitting the band?” My mom’s eyes bug out and her hand goes to her heart.

  “No. No.” That’d make Coy way too happy. No, if I have to put up with his shit for the next three months, he’s gonna have to suffer, too. “I just needed to clear my head.”

  “Oh, no.” My sister rolls her eyes, grabs my hand, and tugs me along as she scoops her bag on the way out. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Where are you off to? You just got here!” Mom shouts, but Mira’s already got the front door open.

  “Don’t worry, Mom! I’ll bring him back!” she yells before closing the door. She narrows her gaze, digs her keys from her bag, and points at her car. “Get in.”

  She’s not usually so bossy, but my curiosity piques at where she’s taking me so I go along with it.

  “Kidnapping’s a new low, Sis.” I chuckle as she zooms out of the neighborhood.

  Her lips turn up with a smirk but she keeps her eyes on the road. “You’re not a kid, and we both know you won’t talk to me with those fuckers hanging around.”

  “Our parents?” I raise my brows and chuckle.

  She pulls into the shopping center before the light and shrugs me off. “Yeah, those fuckers. Love them, I do, but we both know they’ll act as though it’s no big deal their almost thirty-year-old rock star of a son just showed up on their doorstep for a little vacation.”

  “It’s not a big deal, and I’m twenty-eight, thank you very much.”

  “So, now you’re living in denial too?” She swings the car into an open space in front of a furniture store and a restaurant named Clyde’s. I’m not sure if we’re shopping or eating because neither makes sense.

  “Mira, what are we doing?”

  She cuts the engine, releases her seat belt, and gets out of the car. Doesn’t answer my question either, but she knows I’ll follow, which I do. She turns toward Clyde’s and I step ahead to get the door.

  “We�
�re having drinks, that’s what we’re doing.” She winks as she crosses the threshold and struts toward the bar.

  “And we couldn’t do that at home?” I tilt my head and let loose a laugh.

  She nods at the bartender and slides into the seat at my left. “We could, except for the reason I stated before. Besides, you’re famous now; I think we can afford the tab.” Her words elicit a memory from our youth—the time she and her friends decided to get drunk in the backyard off a six pack of Pabst, except I told my parents.

  She turns her attention to the bartender. “Hey, Connor, two pale ales, please.”

  “You got it, Mira.”

  “Wait. Is this a setup? To get me back for all the times I snitched on you and your friends?”

  Mira’s jaw drops and her familiar laughter tumbles out. “Oh, God! Remember the Pabst!”

  I raise my brow. “I was just thinking of it. You were grounded for like a month!”

  She narrows her gaze but her lips turn up with humor. “I was so mad at you.”

  “Yeah, well, I probably deserved it.”

  “No wonder you’re nervous. Payback’s a real bitch.”

  Connor sets our beers on white paper napkins and catches Mira’s gaze. “Let me know if you need anything else.” Maybe I’m reading into things, but our bartender seems awfully acquainted with my sister.

  “I will.” She presses her lips together with a sharp grin. “Thanks, Connor.”

  Oh, God. I grimace at the idea my sister brought me here to hit on the bartender.

  “What’s going on in that head?” she asks on a scoff of laughter.

  “Did we come here to hit on Connor?” I ask and she almost chokes on her beer. “’Cause that’s weird.”

  “Oh, my God, I forgot how funny you are.” She slaps my back. “I’ve missed you, Sean.”

  “I missed you, too.” I lift the glass to my lips and take a long sip. “Oh, this is good.”

  “Yeah, that’s why we came here.” She winks and nods to Connor. “The view just makes it better.”

  “Uh, I knew it!” I wrinkle my nose and glance away as Connor bends over. I wish I could erase the sound of her sigh as he does so.

  “So . . .” She turns in her seat and lifts an expectant brow.

  I mirror her posture and do the same. “So . . .”

  She rolls her eyes. “Who is she and what’s the problem?”

  “Why’s it got to be a woman? Maybe I’m having problems with the band.” I take a sip of beer to avoid her knowing glare.

  “Are you having issues with the band?”

  “Both, or one and the same.” I blow out a frustrated growl. Fuck it. This is Mira. She’s like a vault with the secrets. “I’m in love with our new drummer’s girlfriend.”

  She winces and widens her eyes. “Ouch.”

  “And we slept together.”

  “Sean . . .” Her eyes bug out but she gives me grim smile.

  “And he hurts her. I don’t know how often with his hands, but with his words, all the time.” There. I said it.

  All humor drains from her face. “Does it even matter how often? Once is enough.”

  “I know.”

  “There’s no chance of getting Iz back, huh?” She asks the same question I’ve wondered myself.

  “He’s so messed up, Mira. The first time I visited him in rehab, he asked me to buy him drugs.”

  “Brass balls, that dude.”

  I wince and squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t want to think about his balls.”

  “Good point.” She tilts back her glass and drains it before pinning me with a stare. “So, what’re you gonna do?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know that there’s anything I can do. She doesn’t want me.” I shrug but I hate my own answer. It sucks to have no control over the situation. I feel useless.

  She stares a long moment and I just know I’m not gonna like what comes out of her mouth. “If she doesn’t like you, maybe you shouldn’t waste your time.”

  “It’s not a waste.” I shake my head because I don’t regret any time I’ve spent with Jess. “Besides, it’s not like that with Jess. She has a rough past. Heavy stuff.”

  “Lots of baggage. I don’t know, Sean. Why don’t you just cut your losses and move on?”

  “Because I love her, and I think she’s the one.” The answer comes without thought. Both Mira and I stare at each other in surprise.

  “Well, then. That changes things, yeah?” She states the obvious.

  “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” Now I just have to decide what to do about it. I glance into the contents of my glass before tilting it back for a swallow.

  Mira shoves into me with her shoulder. “Look at you, being all grown up with your grown-up problems. I remember when you used to pick your nose and eat it.”

  “Maybe I still do.” I stick my tongue out at her and she laughs.

  “You’re so gross.” She picks at the edge of her napkin before meeting my stare again. “Hey, I’m sorry you’re dealing with this. You’re a good guy. The best I know next to Dad. You deserve to find someone who makes you happy.”

  I nod, and tap my fingers on the bar top as I take in her words. My parents built this great life together, the perfect marriage, and they made it all look so damn easy. I want that. A wife and children, but I don’t want it with a nameless face. I want it with Jess. “What do I do when the person who makes me the happiest also hurts me the most?”

  Mira’s lips turn down with her frown. “I’m not sure. I wish I knew.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” I tap my empty glass and force a smile onto my face. “Thanks for bringing me out. You were right. I needed this.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Well, of course I’m right. I am awesome. Even Connor thinks so.” She winks at the bartender and I can’t tell if she’s flirting because she likes him or just to gross me out. Either way, it seems to be working.

  Connor swaggers over to our end of the bar and takes our empties. “Another?”

  Mira twists in her seat. “What do you say, little brother?”

  “Yeah, let’s do one more.” It’s nice spending one-on-one time with my sister. I can’t recall even a handful of times we’ve done this as adults. “Then we better head back. Mom started cooking the second I walked in the door.”

  “Crap, that means she’s probably making one of your favorites and not mine.” Mira pretends to be annoyed but the hint of a smile plays at her lips. “They’re pretty great, huh. We sure lucked out in the parent department.”

  Connor sets down our freshly filled glasses.

  I pick up mine and raise it in a toast. “Yeah, we really did. Not so bad in the sister department, either.”

  She tips her glass against mine. “Now that I’ll drink to.”

  62

  Jess

  I’ve spent the last four days hiding out in the bedroom and still Sean’s gone. With each day that passes, my anxiety grows. His absence feels like a punishment, but it’s one I deserve. It’s my fault he left.

  My bruises barely show; my body is healing much faster than my mind ever will. Under the pretense of being sick, I’ve allowed myself more time to think, but I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. I can’t find peace within for what I’ve done. I can’t forgive myself for pushing Sean away.

  I sleep in Coy’s bed but we haven’t had sex. Not since being with Sean. I tell Coy it’s because I’m hurt and use his distaste for the ugly yellowing marks on my skin to my advantage. They’re evidence of his own demons—ones he’d rather not face. He’s sorry, but he’s also embarrassed. He’s always reserved his anger for me, but this time he’s given his bandmates a glimpse at his darker side.

  Sad as it is, my physical bruises aren’t why I push Coy away. I can’t get over the feeling that sleeping with him would be a total betrayal to Sean, and that’s something I can’t bring myself to do. Even for Coy.

  I don’t ask if he read my notebook. I don’t say much to him at all. I feign sleep eac
h time he comes in after long hours in the studio, and for whatever reason, he lets me.

  I haven’t run into Deb once, though she knocks at the door each evening and leaves a plate of food. I’m an expert at fading into nothing, a skill I’ve practiced my whole life. But she’s the only one who seems to notice I’m still here. I miss her friendship, and that’s the reason I push myself to get dressed to join her outside this morning rather than continue hiding.

  I shove my hands into the back pockets of my shorts and chew my bottom lip as I step off the back patio toward the garden. “Need any help?”

  Deb glances up and squints against the sunlight. “Sure.” She takes me in a moment and gives a nod. “Why don’t you help me weed this section. I’m almost done.”

  I wiggle my fingers into the fabric of my gloves and kneel across from her. My shades afford me protection from both the sun and her calculating stare. The smell of the freshly tilled dirt invigorates my soul. I’ve come to love gardening. There’s a joy in caring for what’s planted so it can grow.

  “Feeling better?” The way she asks, I wonder if she doesn’t buy that I’ve been ill. “Trent says you’ve been fighting off one hell of a bug.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I nod and pick out a few weeds. “Much better. Thank you.”

  “I’ve missed your help. Not that I can’t do this alone, but I’ve gotten quite used to your company, Jess. I’ll miss you when you go on tour.”

  I pause and glance up. “Me, too.” I’d rather stay here. The words beg to be let out, but I press my lips together and reach for another weed. I’m not looking forward to the upcoming tour. I’m dreading it, but I don’t know what else to do. I don’t have many options. It’s not as if I can stay back and survive on my own.

  “Hey, Jess?” Bedo’s sharp voice calls across the lawn. I didn’t think he even knew my name. “Can we see you in here for a minute?”

 

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