To Bring You Back

by Emily Conrad

  “Then I’ll deal with her. You deal with the venue and get the footage. If someone hurt her, I want to know who, but we’re not making this into more of a circus than it already is.”

  Tim’s face flushed an angry red. “Am I the only one here who cares about your career?”

  “People first.”

  “Too bad Harper doesn’t see it that way, huh?” He clenched his jaw but couldn’t seem to stop himself from continuing. “Can you imagine how fast you’d make a statement on her behalf? And she’s letting this happen to you.”

  “Good thing I didn’t follow your advice to get more involved with her.”

  Tim grunted and his mouth skewed as if he were barely containing retorts.

  Gannon left before the restraint broke.

  12

  Gannon sat on the floor against the door of the studio as if blocking the exit could contain the Harper situation from exploding further.

  Despite their different priorities, Tim had been right about two things.

  Harper wasn’t returning calls, and the online reaction to the accusation had been volatile. Long rants in all caps and laced with profanity demanded Awestruck’s music be taken off the air and this weekend’s show canceled. Fans fired back, defending him. If the clash happened in person at the show, it would get ugly.

  Gannon worked with Carol and Lina, Awestruck’s publicist and social media manager, to post a picture of Lake Superior with a caption that read, The truth will set you free. I’m not in California and haven’t been since June, but I wish all my friends there a safe and happy summer.

  Fans and skeptics battled it out in comments there too.

  Tim was working with Carol on a more straightforward defense. Only time would tell if they could save the weekend’s booking.

  “I don’t get how so many people are willing to believe I’d do that to her.”

  Because Gannon had chosen the floor, John sat in the desk chair at the soundboard. “Domestic violence tends to be a well-kept secret.” John’s sincerity pulled Gannon from his own concerns long enough to focus on his friend.

  The drummer didn’t talk about his childhood often, but Gannon should’ve realized sooner this would hit close to home. And John might be uniquely qualified to recognize someone who’d faced abuse.

  “You think her boyfriend’s been beating her?”

  John took a big breath as if to give an uncharacteristically long answer, but when Gannon’s phone interrupted, he let out the air without speaking.

  “It’s her.” Gannon answered the call on speaker. “What really happened at my place, Harper?”

  “Nothing.” Her voice came over the line, airy and carefree. “What do you mean?”

  If his people were all over this, so were hers. The only reason to play dumb was to hide something.

  Heaviness seeped into his limbs. “How did you get the bruises?”

  “I told you.” Her voice grew defensive. “I fell on the stairs.”

  “People say a man was there. Did someone hurt you?”

  “Karina says the foundation of any relationship has to be trust. You should try it.” She’d avoided answering. Also discouraging was how quickly she jumped to quote Karina, the quack of a life coach Gannon had long been encouraging Harper to fire.

  He got up and paced, holding the phone in front of his chest. “I did trust you. I gave you access to my apartment, but you got hurt, and I want to know how. Was Colton there?”

  “Of course not. He was the whole reason I called you that night.”

  “Someone else, then. Who did they see you with?”

  “How should I know?”

  Another evasion. Suspicion hummed like a malfunctioning speaker. “You were the only person who was supposed to be there.”

  “We haven’t all taken chastity vows. You wanting to miss out doesn’t mean that’s the right choice for me.”

  Gannon rubbed his temple. There had been a man in his home when he’d let Harper stay there specifically to keep her from making more mistakes. “So it was someone else? You’re not going to see him again, are you? He doesn’t have a way to get to you?”

  Harper tsked. “This is going nowhere. I told you, I fell on the stairs, and just because I might’ve had company doesn’t mean that’s not still the truth.”

  Sitting behind the soundboard, John drummed his fingers against his thigh in a fast rhythm. He did that whenever he was lost in thought, and Gannon wished he could put Harper on hold to ask what his friend made of her claim.

  “Fine. You fell on the stairs. If that’s what happened, you’ve got to tell the press. This is a PR nightmare.”

  Harper let out an exasperated sigh. “The truth doesn’t matter. Only what people believe matters, and that changes every week. Like all the times they say I’m pregnant. If they won’t believe me about what’s going on in my own uterus, how am I supposed to clear up anything else?”

  “You’ve got to try. By saying nothing, you’re allowing them to run with whatever story they make up.”

  “Right. Talk to the press when even you don’t believe me? I don’t think so.”

  John tapped a driving rhythm that mirrored Gannon’s mounting frustration

  Harper hadn’t quit talking. “… business and everyone else should too. It’s not like I issued a press release. It’s not like I asked for this.”

  “Press coverage? You did ask for it, and I did too. These are the jobs we chose. No one forced us to live in the spotlight, but we do, and the choices we make don’t go unnoticed. In your case, that could be a life saver. If someone’s hurting you—”

  Harper scoffed. “See? Even you. Call me back when you figure out how to trust.” She disconnected.

  He narrowly resisted throwing the phone at the wall. “I should’ve told her we’ll find out from the security tapes soon enough. She might have spilled the whole story.”

  “Not if she’s enjoying the attention.”

  Gannon froze. “You think this is a stunt?”

  John stood, his right hand still moving to a silent beat. “She was all over the place. If she was attacked, you can only help if she cooperates.”

  “If I keep offering, eventually she will.”

  “Like she cooperated by staying at your place?”

  The question hit its mark, and Gannon couldn’t argue. Harper’s efforts to clear his name would help immensely. Even if she were protecting an abuser—Colton? Someone else?—she didn’t have to let Gannon take the fall.

  “Distance yourself from her.” John crossed to the door, a line on his forehead indicating worry. “Otherwise, she’ll take from you, but not the help you’re offering.” He let himself out.

  But what did it look like to distance himself from Harper now?

  She might need him, and she might even be ready to admit she also needed Jesus if he stuck this out.

  The truth would set them all free, like he’d written in that post.

  No one was in a better place to tell the truth of what happened that night than Harper.

  He texted her one last plea to tell the press the truth, slumped back down against the door, and started praying.

  When Adeline let herself into the living room after her evening shift at Superior Dogs, Bruce greeted her, then plopped back down in front of the couch where Tegan sat, watching a movie. Adeline had planned to sand the next portion of the exterior wall but joined them instead.

  “You might regret that.” Tegan didn’t take her eyes away from the screen as she scooched over to give Adeline room. “I’m just waiting for this thing to end. It’s one of those big misunderstanding movies where, if they all just sat down and had a conversation, everyone would be happy, and it’d be over.”

  Adeline nodded, numb. Was that what she was doing with her past with Gannon? Making it into a bigger and bigger deal by not confessing it?

  A paparazzo had shown up at the food trailer today. As his camera lens snapped nonstop, he’d asked what it felt like to be Gannon Vau
ghn’s new lady and whether she was sad he would be traveling this weekend for a show.

  Asher had scared him off, but with the increasing attention and Gannon showing no signs of leaving any time soon—at least, not for more than a weekend—odds were getting better that someone, sometime would dig up the story of Fitz.

  Gannon said that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

  Drew said she didn’t need to be ashamed.

  The Bible said believers should confess sins.

  Telling Tegan the full truth might be a good way to find out what kind of reaction she’d get from everyone else when it got out. She’d also benefit from having an ally who wasn’t surprised when that happened. Plus, confessing it would prove she knew she was a sinner saved by grace, not works, and that she didn’t care who knew it. It’d prove Gannon wrong about her.

  Except, he wasn’t wrong. She did care. She pulled a throw pillow onto her lap and picked at it until the movie credits rolled.

  This was her chance.

  Tegan leaned forward for the remote.

  “I slept with Gannon. It wasn’t just a kiss. That’s the part of the story I never told you.”

  Tegan sat back without the remote and turned to face her.

  “That year he came home for Christmas, and I saw him at that party, and I was engaged to Fitz. That’s why Gannon fired him. That’s why Fitz broke up with me. That’s why …” Her voice cracked, and she watched Tegan without blinking. Her eyes were so wet she didn’t need to.

  “I guessed. Whatever happened majorly impacted all three of you, and I couldn’t imagine a little kiss doing the damage that came after.”

  The whole ugly truth, and this was the response? “It was that obvious?”

  “Not when you talked to me and Drew, but when we talked after.” Tegan shrugged. “Do you feel better now that you said it?”

  “Not really. What if the press starts digging and everyone finds out about me and him and Fitz?”

  “If you’re worried what people will think, we all make mistakes. Unless you’ve been hiding a lot from me, that’s not how you live now.”

  It wasn’t. She worked in a church now. She volunteered all the time. She didn’t date. “I’m not sure Gannon and I can even be friends now.”

  Tegan tilted her head. “Is that what you want?”

  Adeline’s breath solidified in her lungs. They’d been good friends once, and even in their recent disagreements, he’d proved himself grounded and loyal. So much had changed, but if anything, his best qualities had only gotten better. “I miss him. But with our history, and with Fitz …”

  “Fitz is gone, Addie, and your history is forgiven.”

  Her fingers tightened around the side of the pillow. “And God’s forgiveness means Fitz doesn’t matter anymore?”

  “Fitz matters. He does. But nothing you do will change the past or the fact that he’s gone.”

  Nothing would bring him back, as she’d told Gannon when he’d come to see her in the church office. But Gannon’s question haunted her. What if talking about Fitz brought her back?

  She caught herself biting her nails. “Do you think I haven’t been living my life?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Something Gannon said.”

  Tegan lowered her gaze and said nothing. Meaning she agreed with him.

  Adeline’s hand dropped across the pillow in her lap. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

  “I encouraged you to apply for that job.”

  “That’s not the same as telling me my life needs an overhaul.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t. It’s just … you don’t seem to dream or reach for things. I don’t think I’ve heard you ever say what you want to accomplish—other than paint the house. And maybe, just now, to be friends with Gannon Vaughn.”

  The ache to see that happen sank deeper, an anchor she might never be able to haul back up. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  “Yes.” Tegan had proved herself a true friend in this conversation. She hadn’t judged. She’d encouraged.

  A friend like that deserved Adeline’s trust, which meant Adeline needed to consider that Tegan could be right.

  Adeline could be friends with Gannon again.

  She’d have to start by calling and apologizing for the whole grace abuser thing and for the words she’d put in Drew’s mouth. That would be as hard as this conversation had been. “I’m going to work on the siding for a while.”

  Left to himself, Gannon wrote rough versions of two songs in the eight hours following his conversation with Harper. Music hadn’t come this easily in ages, but powerful emotions had always served his creativity well.

  His phone lay face down on the desk near where he sat with his guitar. He flipped it over to check the time. Only five thirty in the morning, and notifications covered the display. Their flight to Minnesota for the weekend’s engagements would depart in a few hours, assuming the trip hadn’t been canceled.

  He’d chosen a bad time to go dark, but if anything had needed his immediate attention, Tim knew where to find him. Gannon scrolled through the backlog.

  His publicist had left a voicemail about the radio interviews scheduled for the weekend. “I told them to ask about Harper. Here’s what you’ll say: ‘I don’t know how a simple friendship has fueled so many dramatic rumors, but the truth hasn’t changed. Harper English is a friend. I’d never dream of hurting her, and with a little fact-checking it’d be obvious I’ve been nowhere near her for weeks.’ Don’t confirm the bruises or the stairs or the fact that she was at your place. We’re keeping it simple. Friendship, truth, fact-check.”

  He repeated the words she’d supplied to the equipment-filled studio before moving on to his text messages.

  The oldest was from Harper. You owe me. She’d followed up with a string of emojis, all blowing kisses.

  What had she done now? Hopefully something helpful instead of something that would throw more gas on the fire.

  Before he resorted to searching online to find out, the next text, from Lina, Awestruck’s social media manager, caught his eye. Harper posted a video, in case you haven’t seen it.

  Gannon hurried to tap the link.

  “Hi, darlings.” Harper’s fingers fluttered as she smiled at the camera. “You’ve all been so concerned about me. It’s the most touching thing, how you’re all these wonderful people who are so ready to stand up for me.”

  Had she summoned tears? It looked like it, but she blinked quickly and moved on. “It’s the sweetest, and I’m beyond flattered. So I’m hopping on to let you know that I’m totally okay.”

  She moved the phone farther out to include more of her body in the frame. She gave a shrug with a coy smile, then brought the camera closer again. “I did take a little tumble when I was at my dear friend Gannon’s house, but he’s off in Wisconsin. He wasn’t even there, friends. He didn’t hurt me. He let me stay at his place even though he wasn’t there because, you know, we have a very special relationship, he and I.”

  She wiggled her eyebrows and seemed about to burst with a secret.

  Gannon glared at the screen. She might be clearing up one rumor, but she was on a mission to ignite another. What would Adeline think of this? And Colton?

  But wait. Was she once again at it with her evasion techniques? Harper had cleared his name, but she’d never said she’d been alone. She’d never said someone else hadn’t been involved in that “tumble.”

  She praised her fans some more, thanked them for their concern, told them she loved them, and signed off.

  Gannon heaved a sigh and ran a hand over his face.

  He still had doubts about what had happened, and he would’ve given her a different script, but what she’d said seemed to have done the trick. Most of the comments on the video were positive.

  Thank you, Lord.

  He clicked back over to his messages.

  The next one came from Tim. Harper’s video did some good. There are still sk
eptics, but they don’t appear to have organized a protest at the show.

  Despite his relief, Gannon knew better than to believe this would be the last he’d hear of the accusations. Most likely, tabloids would still run with it. Some fans would doubt Harper’s sincerity in the video—Gannon couldn’t blame them when he had questions of his own.

  Tim had messaged again a couple of hours later, in the middle of the night. The guy had been up late, if he’d gotten any sleep at all. The venue’s agreed to go ahead.

  Thanks for your work on this, Gannon typed. Any progress on the surveillance tape?

  Tim’s reply arrived immediately, confirming Gannon’s suspicion that he hadn’t slept. Didn’t think we still needed it.

  I’d like to see it. The situation still didn’t sit right with Gannon. Finding out whether Harper had been alone that night would either put his mind at ease that she’d been alone or get him that much closer to the identity of the abuser.

  He made quick work of his other messages.

  Somehow, he’d hoped to find something from Adeline, but of course, there was nothing.

  She’d already had questions for him about Harper. He could only imagine the events of the last eighteen hours alienating her further.

  13

  On Wednesday, Adeline pulled a crumpled shopping list from her pocket to make sure she had everything Asher had asked her to pick up for Superior Dogs. Water, soda, a variety pack of chips, and two bottles of barbecue sauce. She leaned her forearms on the handle of the cart and plodded to the checkouts.

  She didn’t mean to browse the tabloids, but a picture of Gannon earned a double take.

  Olivia had stopped by the food trailer to announce that she and her friends had found the cabin where Gannon was staying. It wasn’t a cabin at all, but an estate with over a dozen bedrooms in the main house, usually rented out for corporate retreats. Awestruck had flown out and played a show this weekend, but now that they were back, Olivia and company planned to more or less camp at the estate’s gate.