Detour Complete Series

by Kacey Shea

She doesn’t look the part, especially when she drops her gaze and a blush creeps up her neck and colors her cheeks. “Oh, no. I don’t play.”

  “What the fuck?” Austin drops his hands open wide and turns to face Trent. “What the hell, Trent? Why can’t she stay back here with Deb like Jess is?”

  “Deb doesn’t know Opal. Neither does Jess.” Lexi places her hands on her hips, “Trent and I both decided it would be better if she stays with the band until I join you.”

  “Oh you decided, did you?” Austin leans back against the counter’s edge.

  “It’s not gonna be a problem, is it?” Trent lifts a brow.

  Austin rolls his eyes and waves a hand. “Oh, no. Perfectly fine. Let’s find a few other girls to pick up along the way. I’m sure it’ll be real cool. All the rock stars are doing it.”

  “What’s got your panties in a twist?” Trent runs his hands through his hair and tucks it behind his ears.

  “He’s worried about how it’ll affect his game.” I scoff making the joke, but by Austin’s glare I’ve hit the nail on the head.

  “That’s right, Sean. I am. With you and Trent off the market, I’m set to reap the rewards, but not if we’ve got a bus full of women.” Oh, brother.

  Trent’s lips twist with a smile, though it holds no humor. “Sorry this interferes with your manwhoring. That was my utmost concern when Opal had no place to go.”

  “Fuck you!” Austin throws up his middle finger.

  “Guys. That’s enough.” Lex calls out and steps between the two. She meets Austin’s stare with her hands on her hips. “This is my sister. My sister. She’s family. You do this for me, because I’d do this for you.” It shuts us all up and the space falls silent. “I finish up my tour in a few weeks, and until I can join you, I trust you’ll watch out for her.”

  “Thank you for having me.” Opal’s southern drawl is as sweet as her face. “Really, I’m so thankful. To Lexi. And y’all.”

  “How old do you think she is?” Austin whispers in my ear.

  I elbow him in the ribs.

  “Right. Lex’s sister.”

  I throw him a side glare. “Not to mention Trent will kick your ass.”

  “Whose ass am I kicking?” Trent lifts his brows and Austin chooses that moment to refill his glass from the sink. Smart move.

  I grab a stack of dishes from the cabinet and scoop servings onto each plate, glad I made so much. Jess pulls out condiments and juice, and butters extra pieces of toast without me having to ask. Everyone else grabs a plate and we sit together at the table to eat breakfast. Lexi entertains us with tales from her tour. It’s the most normal moment we’ve shared since Iz’s passing.

  “When do you fly back?” I ask Lexi.

  “Tomorrow morning.” She shrugs and spins her fork on her empty plate. “Wish I could stay longer, but I play Boston tomorrow night.”

  “We hit the road in two days anyway,” Trent says, his gaze falling on Lexi. “But that’s okay. Won’t be too much longer till I get you to myself every night again.”

  Her lips tick up with her smile. I’m happy for them. That they’ve made it work between crazy travel schedules and separate tours gives me hope that eventually Jess and I might have a relationship like that.

  Lexi clears her throat. “I know it’s short notice, but since we’re all together I was actually hoping we could do something tonight. In memory of Iz.”

  “What’d you have in mind?” I lean forward in my chair and chance a glance at each of the guys. We haven’t talked much about Iz. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just there’s not much to say. How do you make peace when the man you once considered a friend and bandmate chooses death over life?

  “Something simple here at the house,” Lexi says, and she reaches for Austin’s shoulder. “What do you think?”

  He blinks twice and clears his throat. “Outside.” He blinks again and this time sniffles as if he might cry. “Iz always liked looking at the stars.”

  Lexi smiles. “It’s a plan. After the sun sets. We’ll do it then.”

  Later that evening Jess and I make our way into the backyard with Lexi and Trent. Austin’s already in the center of the sitting area. A flame of orange illuminates his smile.

  “A fire? It’s kinda warm enough.” I laugh as Austin stokes the blaze in the metal fire pit on this mild summer night.

  “Ambiance, my friend. Besides, it doesn’t feel right celebrating Iz without the scent of something burning. I thought a joint would be in bad taste.” He winks with his joke but no one laughs.

  “Good call.” I swear this guy doesn’t grow up. Hasn’t in the ten plus years I’ve known him.

  Lexi’s gaze is set on the fire and Trent runs back inside to grab a cooler of drinks. I step away from Jess to check on her. “So, a sister?”

  “Yeah. Crazy, huh?” She peers up and shakes her head as if she doesn’t really believe it’s possible. “She’s a good person. We’ve been getting to know each other since my dad passed. She was living with family . . . It’s complicated. Anyway, I appreciate you guys watching out for her until I can join you. I’d take her on my bus, but there’s no one besides me to look out for her. Trent said it wouldn’t be a problem, but now I’m not so sure.” Her gaze rests on Austin.

  “Hey.” I shake my head. “You managed to reform Trent, and for some reason you keep him around. The least we can do is keep an eye on your sister a few weeks.”

  “Funny, that’s what Trent said.” She bumps my shoulder with hers.

  “I’ve missed you, Lexi.”

  Her smile falls as her gaze drifts back to the fire. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Maybe if I had been. If I’d gone to see him? He might still be here.”

  “No, don’t. You can’t even think that. His addiction was bigger than any of us. It’s not your fault. It’s not mine. We can’t think that way. Iz wouldn’t have it.” At least that’s what I tell myself. How I’m finding peace in his absence.

  “You’re right.” She wipes under her eyes. “You’re exactly right.”

  Trent makes his way back and sets the cooler on the pavers. “Water, soda, beer, and hard stuff. Pick your poison.” He lifts a beer out for himself and a water for Lexi.

  “So, shall we get this started or what?” Austin pops the top off a beer bottle and leaps onto one of the patio chairs.

  “Maybe I should go?” Jess whispers in my ear. “I wasn’t close with him.”

  “I want you to stay. That is, if it’s not too hard?” I pick two waters out of the cooler.

  She takes a drink from my grasp and nods. “Okay.”

  “Dude, no one’s listening to me!” Austin shouts.

  “Maybe you should get off your high horse.” Trent snickers.

  “Fuck you, man. I’m trying to be astute here.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Maybe stop trying so hard.”

  “That’s what she said,” Trent says.

  “Come on, that’s enough.” Lexi shakes her head. “Iz would’ve walked out by now.”

  “She’s right.” Trent sits back on one of the chairs and stretches out his legs. “How about we share something we’ll miss most about him? I’ll start.” He takes a long pull from his beer and settles his stare into the fire. “I’ll miss how he always came out of nowhere with a truth bomb. Just dropped it in my fucking lap between inhales of his cigarette. It’s funny because he never really seemed like he had it all together, but if you stopped to listen, he had some really insightful shit to lay down.”

  Austin nods, clasping his hands around his beer. “I’ll miss the laughs. I mean, he was always fucking high. Always. But he was still funny as fuck.”

  “He looked out for me.” Lexi’s eyes shimmer with the illumination from the flames. “More than my own father which isn’t saying much, but when I toured with you guys last summer he was always asking if I was good.”

  Trent tips his head. “And you looked out for him.”

  “Yeah. Not sure it did much
good.” She shrugs. “I couldn’t even get him to quit smoking.”

  “What about you, Sean?” Austin asks, and emotion clogs my throat.

  I’ve thought about this very question so many times over the past few days, but I haven’t had to put words to my feelings. “I’ll miss his smile. I miss jamming out. He was our brother. He was hurting and I never knew how much. It’s scary, you know? That we could be so close and have no fucking clue how dark things were for him? I don’t want that to happen again. You guys are my brothers.” Tears gather and fall from the corners of my eyes. I should try to hide them, or at least wipe them away, but I don’t. It hurts so damn much and I’m tired of pretending it doesn’t.

  “We won’t,” Trent says. “Sean, it was different with Iz.”

  I lift my gaze and meet his over the fire. “Yeah, but if we didn’t see a problem like that right under our noses? It doesn’t give me much faith. I don’t want to say good-bye to Iz. It fucking hurts. But the thought of losing one of you that way? It’d fucking ruin me.”

  The wood crackles in the steel fire pit as my words hang as heavy as the smoke.

  Austin pushes to his feet. “A blood pact.”

  “Aust . . .” Trent rolls his eyes at his theatrics.

  “Minus the blood.” Austin shrugs but his stare doesn’t waver. “I’m being serious. Right here, right now, we make a promise to each other. No matter how fucked up or heavy life gets, we come to each other first. No matter how busy, or stressed, or fucking famous, we always make time to listen.”

  “I’ll promise that,” I say, and I have to hand it to him. Austin might act a fool most of the time, but his heart is good.

  “Now we need a secret club handshake.” He holds my stare a full ten seconds before cracking up. “I’m fucking with you. Though it would be pretty badass.” Maybe he’s still a fool. He shrugs. “Sorry.”

  “To never giving up. On each other. On ourselves.” Trent lifts his drink and waits until every one of us does the same before tilting it back. The silence stretches around us, comfortable this time, and for the first time in days I feel as though I can take a full breath. As if a weight I didn’t realize I was holding is now gone.

  “Can I say something?” Jess says, and worries her bottom lip between her teeth before she continues. “I know I didn’t know him very well. We only met once. But he was kind, and hearing all these stories . . . it’s clear he was loved by you all. You made a difference in his life, too.”

  “Thanks, Jess.” I squeeze her hand. I’m glad she got to meet him.

  “You know what? I’m really going to quit this time.” Austin pulls out his pack of cigarettes and tosses them into the fire. He’s a drunk smoker, only partaking when he’s thoroughly sloshed, and for that alone the timing of his declaration is surprising. “For Iz.”

  “Good for you, Austin.” Trent slaps his back but we all hear what he mutters next. “Bets on how long this lasts.”

  “Hey!” Austin pouts. “I’m not dicking around. I mean it.” He coughs and takes a long sip from his beer before adding, “This time.”

  Trent chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. “I say one week.”

  “Oh, I’ll take two.” I grin.

  “Fuckers.” Austin shakes his head. “No respect.”

  “I have faith in you.” The conviction in Jess’s tone suppresses all the teasing. “My bet’s on you, Austin.”

  “Why thank you, Jess” He tips his chin and raises his glass. “Someone around here believes in me.”

  “Oh, we believe in you.” Lexi pats his shoulder. “We just know you really well. But people change every day, so prove us wrong.”

  I certainly hope she’s right. Not only for Austin’s smoking habit, but for Jess’s future and any chance I have to be included in it. The next few months won’t be easy. Harder still because I’ll be touring state to state while she’s here battling her demons without me. But here in the moment, as I look around and see the faces of my friends, I believe it’s entirely possible.

  66

  Jess

  Two months later

  With the band on the road, the house is quiet and empty. But Sean was right. I needed time. I need the space. I don’t worry about him because he’s not here, and that gives me room to better myself without judgment or expectation. I started the summer with a lofty to-do list, but I’m making a huge dent in it.

  Before he left, Sean connected me with one of the Off Track Records lawyers. They were able to expedite the process of obtaining my legal documentation. After all the years of having none, it was almost too much to hope for. With my birth certificate and social security card in hand, I’m finally able to make an honest and good life. Get a job. Hopefully, someday, go to college.

  During the process I requested my foster care case record. I wasn’t sure what I would unearth, if anything at all, but I needed to know what happened the day I ran away. I needed to make peace with my past, even if it meant I’d have to face further consequences. But the fire Amo set hadn’t killed anyone. All these years I stayed away in fear of being blamed for arson, or worse, murder. A guilt I hadn’t even realized I held tight lifted the minute I discovered everyone had survived. I could finally move on.

  Next was working toward my GED. Deb helped me find an accelerated prep class at the community college, and enrolling there felt like a huge milestone. It was scary navigating the bus system all on my own, but also exhilarating. For the first time in forever I was doing something big for no one other than myself.

  Sean set me up with a checking account and credit card before he went on the road. I didn’t want to accept his gift. I wanted a fresh start. I hope that someday we might be able to have a healthy, non-codependent relationship, and I didn’t see how taking his money would be a good building block to that. I finally accepted his generous offer, but only after he conceded to my terms. I promised to pay him back, penny for penny, for whatever amount I use.

  Which I fully intend to do.

  Next, I found a therapist.

  The idea of being indebted to someone else, even Sean, is enough to churn my stomach and bring on anxiety. It’s something I’m working through in my counseling sessions. It’s also difficult for me to understand why he would want to give me so much when I’ve given him so little. But she’s helping me realize that this tally system I’ve operated within is not how people who love each other behave.

  And I love Sean. I’m scared as hell to say the words aloud, but with every fiber of my being I know it’s true. That alone is motivation enough for me to get my life in order before he returns.

  The band has a tour break scheduled just a few weeks from now and I cannot wait to see him again. Sure, he’s offered to fly me out to catch a show before then. To meet them in some town and spend a night or two together before the band rolls onto the next stop, but I don’t want to be another groupie, or some girl along for the free ride. He said he would wait for me, and I believe him. Besides, we’ve made it through two months already, I can make it a little longer. Our reunion seems the perfect way to conclude the best summer of my life.

  Today after class I hop on the bus, but instead of taking it home, I catch an earlier stop and transfer toward Beverly Hills. I’m in the mood to celebrate after passing another practice test. Window shopping is the perfect end to another perfect day. I won’t buy anything, but the high end boutiques here on Rodeo are filled with the exact products I hope to one day design.

  Shoes, bags, accessories, and clothing—my gaze drinks up each signature touch. I stroll from window to window, entranced by the textures, colors, and fits. I stop as a gown catches my attention.

  Ooff! “Oh, my God!” a woman exclaims as she tumbles into my back and sends me stumbling forward a step. “I’m so sorry!” She reaches out to catch me before I slam against the glass.

  “It’s fine.” I straighten and turn to meet her stare.

  “It’s totally not fine. I’m so sorry!” Her head bobs and hair swishes from w
here it’s pulled back into a high ponytail. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking and that was so rude. I could have knocked you over!” She looks familiar, as if I’ve maybe met her before but my mind can’t place her.

  “Injury by window shopping. It’s not the worst thing to happen.” I shrug and laugh in an attempt to settle her worries. I know people can be uptight, but she didn’t careen into me on purpose.

  “Oh, my God, you are too sweet. I still feel horrible.” She glances at the window. “What were you looking at?”

  “Oh, um . . .” I glance around and notice several people have gathered at a distance, some taking their phones out as if they’re snapping pictures or recording us. “Everything really, but that gown is stunning. I’ve never seen beading like that on gray cotton. It almost has a street-couture feel.”

  “You’re a designer?” Her gaze lights up and her smile lifts with her brows. “I have to introduce you.” She doesn’t wait for my response, hooking her arm in mine and pulling me toward the door. “Paula and I go way back. She’s amazing!”

  “Oh, I’m not a designer. Not yet.”

  “Even better.” She drops my arm to step inside, her smile pulling wide with her pink painted lips. That’s when it hits me where I’ve seen her. Cora Bentley. She’s America’s sweetheart. Blockbuster films. Hit television shows. She’s done it all. Her face is plastered on all my favorite magazines.

  “Cora!”

  “Paula!” She turns to greet the woman with a kiss to each cheek. “I have someone I’d like you to meet. She’s an up and coming designer.”

  “Aspiring,” I quickly clarify. “Jessica Moore. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  “She called your piece in the window street-couture.” Cora raises a brow.

  “That’s exactly what I was going for!” Paula presses her hand into her chest before holding it out to me. “So nice to meet you, Jessica. Thanks for stopping by the store. Do you live around here?”

  “I just got out of class, actually, but not too far from here.”