by Bria Quinlan
The rush of Emily that would always and forever be associated with every song on this record. The first one he’d ever produced. Maybe the only one he’d ever produce. If that were the case, he was okay with it.
It was the perfect soundtrack for what relationship they’d had. It rocked. It had passion, soul, art at its most raw. Forever these songs would shake him at his core.
If only he’d realized sooner what had been at stake.
The song ended and he removed the headphones. “Sounds really good to me. What were you hearing?”
Luke’s serious face broke into a grin. “Butch Vig you’re not, but damn if you’re not on your way.”
Sage’s lips twitched. “What?”
“That’s all you.” Luke shook his head. “I don’t want you to miss this. Reconsider. Come on the road. Be the guy who makes this great.” He stood up and grabbed Sage by one shoulder, pulling him closer with a stern look. “I keep telling you we picked you for a reason, and I get the feeling you’re not hearing me.” He shook Sage by the shoulder. “This is it. Put your name on this record. Finish it with us.”
Sage rotated his shoulder out of Luke’s grasp and shook his head. “You don’t understand. If I go, she doesn’t go.”
Luke crossed his arms over his chest.
“Luke, I wanna go. I do. This album has more of me in it than anything I’ve ever made. But there’ll be other opportunities for me. This is her one shot.”
“You said that already.”
“It’s true. She’s had a shit life, and no one has ever cared about her. Not really, not about her heart. I screwed things up for us, but I can fix this one small thing for her. I can take care of her heart’s needs.” Sage closed his eyes as all that he’d been avoiding thinking about pressed its entire weighty reality on him.
“I’m really sorry I’m bailing on you guys. Of all the things in this world to bail on, I never thought it would be you. Or this.” He waved a hand, indicating the upstairs rooms. “I mean, shit, this is it. I used to sketch pictures of myself in rooms like this when I was in high school. Being a part of the process, making music, creating the very stuff I’ve always wanted to live and breathe... Luke, I’m not an idiot. I know exactly what I’m walking away from.”
Luke nodded solemnly. “I can’t promise you get to come back. You must know that.”
Sage could only nod. Because he did know. He knew it the minute he quit.
“We’re on a timetable. If you’re not coming with us to hear the changes live on the road, there’s very little reason to bring you back to finish up. And not finishing...”
“I know.”
He knew Luke wasn’t trying to be a dick. He was trying to tell Sage what he already knew. If he walked away, it was permanent. No coming back. Not just in the studio. Chances were slim to none they would take a risk on him again.
Luke shook his head and then offered his hand. Sage took it.
“I hate to see you go. You’ve been a part of this family for a while. It’ll be hard not having you around anymore.”
“I’m thankful for the experience.”
More thankful than he could accurately express. This band was more than a job. It was more than a lucky break. This band was an answer to a prayer his mom had prayed for him. To be able to live a dream while not having to face the very thing that had taken his birth mom away from him..? It had been everything.
Luke nodded, expression grim. He wasn’t pleased. At least that was something. Sage would always have the knowledge one of his idols and his favorite band of all time had thought he was good enough to produce an album with them.
Those things, along with knowing his actions meant Emily might be able to live a dream she had thought was too big to dream...well, it helped.
It still hurt.
Right exactly in the spaces between his ribs every time he took a breath. He imagined that feeling would eventually fade.
All at once, he was losing two impossible things. The band, the girl.
What had he told Emily? I’m glad I have a trade. It means I’ll have a job if this music thing never amounts to much.
He’d be able to build. He would always have that.
He jogged down the steps, anxious to get out of there before he had to talk to anyone else. Knowing his time in this world was over, he didn’t feel like sticking around for more punishment.
The studio below was empty. Except for two females trying to reach something a foot above their reach on the shelf above the soundboard.
“Maybe if I give you a boost,” Emily suggested, bending to shove a shoulder into Zelda’s rear end.
“Yeah, do that,” Zelda agreed, her hands straining for the box. “Give it all you got. Throw me into the atmosphere, if you can.”
Sage had about a half a heartbeat to decide if he should save them from certain injury or if he should try to find someone else to save them. But his body was already moving their direction.
“Please don’t die,” he said.
The sound of his voice caused Emily to go rigid. He ignored it and reached past Zelda to get the box. As he tugged it off the shelf, it caught on something, yanking it down on top of them. Zelda’s hands came out and grabbed hold of it before it hit anyone.
“Mjölnir!”
Sage’s eyes went to Emily. Every feeling he’d been trying to avoid hit him in the chest like a nine-pound hammer. There she was. The only girl he’d ever loved. Within arms’ reach. And between them was the object that had been the catalyst for tearing them apart.
“I guess it was here all along,” Zelda said weakly.
Emily didn’t say anything. She stared at Sage; the guard he’d worked so hard to get behind was back in place and reinforced more than ever before.
It was odd; the measure of time it took to look at her somehow didn’t reflect the magnitude of everything he saw. Every laugh, every inside joke, every touch, every word. Every little moment she had risked a piece of herself for him.
He saw it all. The fear that faded to the background, the kisses, the fun, the conflict, the chance she took on him.
Girls like this didn’t just happen. She was one of a kind. Impossible to find ever again.
As much as it sucked walking away from the band and the music, losing her was somehow worse.
A moment so close to almost, he could still see it.
An echo fading in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pushing the words out despite the dryness in his throat. “I know it doesn’t...matter.” He swallowed hard and licked his lips. “I know I can’t fix it. I know it’s my fault. I know what I did, and I am so...sorry.”
He scanned her new haircut. The blonde was gone, replaced with a jet-black that was striking on her pale skin. It made her blue eyes stand out intensely. Still, she was Emily. Through and through. She had the kind of light that couldn’t be hidden.
“Most beautiful girl in the world,” he murmured.
He pushed the box into Zelda’s arms, deciding he’d had enough torture for one day. He yanked his keys out of his pocket and headed to his truck.
37
Emily
I glanced around, listening to Zelda chatter at—I mean, educate—me.
I’d thought this trip was going to be a voyage of sadness, but no one had let that happen. I’d been put to work immediately, and the busy rush of things helped move life forward.
“And that is why there are different actors playing the Doctor.” Zelda looked at me expectantly, like I was supposed to have an amazing revelation about life from this.
“But what about the other characters?” Because this made sense, but it also didn’t make sense. Of course, the show had been on forever, so maybe a ”quick overview” had been too much to ask.
“Well—” Zelda broke off as the van pulled through the gates. “We’re here!”
I glanced over, trying not to grin so wide my mouth broke. It was our half-day off, and we were in the best place ever for it. Outside one of my dream p
hotography museums.
“Dorothea Lange.” I breathed it out like a prayer to the gods of Shades of Light.
“Right?”
Together, we hopped out and headed toward the museum after letting Zed know when to pick us up.
“She was like…a rock star.” I breathed out heavily as we stood in line, too excited about the fact this traveling show was here the same time we were.
“A groundbreaking, feminist, world-traveling, artist rock star.”
“So that.”
“Right?”
The guy in front of us turned around and gave us a weird look. But, if you’re not excited about art, why would you be in line to get into a museum?
Zelda reached out and grabbed my hand for a moment. “I’m so glad you came. I know things have been a little weird for you, but having you with us has been the best.”
I stood, stunned for a moment, finally realizing she wasn’t humoring me about all the friendship stuff.
“It’s been the best for me, too.”
“Don’t get me wrong—I love all the girls. They’re my girls. But having another artist—visual—artist and nerd with me…it’s been so fun.”
I blinked, trying not to tear up. It had been more than fun.
It really had been the best.
“What did you say your names were again?”
“I am The Doctor, and this is my companion, Donna.” Zelda looked at the man with a completely straight face.
So I was Donna today. Yesterday I had gotten to experience life as Clara. Zelda was always The Doctor. At first, I had no idea what she was talking about with the aliases. Apparently Doctor Who was one of my missing fandoms. Harrison and Zelda were correcting posthaste my ignorance of all things Whovian. Who said there was nothing to do on a bus between venues?
I was thinking there was no way those names would clear with security when he nodded and said, “Yup. Here you are on the list, Doctor and Doctor Donna. Set up wherever you need. Sodas on the house for roadies. Beer is for the talent only.”
“Got it. Don’t spoil the help.” She winked at him and wandered into the small, darkened club looking around the area for the best shots.
Besides making everyone call her Doctor when she was working, Zelda had also been demanding everyone recognize us as sisters since we hit the road. About halfway through the mini-tour, I’d heard her and Harrison arguing about my sister status.
“She’s coming to live with us.”
I stifled a laugh, because really.
“Zeldy, she’s not a puppy. She has a place to live.”
“But she’s my soul sister, and she needs to be with family.”
“Zeldy.” I could hear Harrison working on his patience. “Emily has a life, and just because you’ve decided to adopt her doesn’t mean she wants to give up that life.”
“But what about holidays and birthdays and important days?”
“Well, of course she’ll come stay with us. Just like any sister would. But, we’re not here to take over her life. Just join it.”
“Fine.” I could hear Zelda huff a little that she’d made a plan that didn’t work out—shocker. “But she gets the pretty room with the view of the meadow.”
“Of course she does.”
I glanced around the bar, smiling at the memory. Zelda was nothing if not the most loyal person on the planet. And, I’ll admit, loyalty was a new thing to me. And family—it was the only thing I’d really ever wanted. When Sage had asked about my dreams, all this other stuff was awesome. But just the idea that I might belong somewhere? That was the dream.
Later that evening, she sat me down and asked how I felt about changing my last name to Fitzpatrick while Harrison stood by looking incredibly amused.
But even the band had started referring to us as The Sisters, so I guess it was a done deal whether I decided to change my name or not.
Part of me worried this was going to make everything harder when we got home, but I realized it didn’t matter. For the first time in my life, I felt like I did have family. That Zelda wasn’t going anywhere. She made sure I felt that way every day.
I had a feeling Sage had slipped something to her, so I sat her down and told her about my past, figuring they probably did a background check on me anyway.
Irate, meet Zelda.
She’d already announced we were sisters, but that’s when she called her parents about the adoption, and I had to ask Harrison to put a brake on that chatter.
“Hey, Donna!”
I glanced up after a second to the sound of my newest alias.
“Can you see about getting the lights on the stage set up so I can see what we’re working with?”
“I’m on it!” I jumped up and headed for the bar to get the lights adjusted.
At this point, our habits were pretty set. Zelda wanted shots at every show. She’d put me in charge of the Instagram page, which meant before pictures to go live twenty-minutes after the show started. I could give hints, but nothing too obvious.
It was the best job I’d ever had. Nightly scavenger hunts? Yes, please!
There were a few lucky stragglers who always figured it out—or gave up trying to guess and picked a bar—each night after I let the town out of the bag. So, the band always did their opening song, then took one request. The fans loved it. Okay. I loved it. It was pretty darn cool.
And, tonight was no different.
I’d given some great hints and had told them I’d accept bribes. One girl told me her brother’s roommates brother’s best friend was on a Certain TV Show, if I was interested.
I played along; that was my job, but no. I wasn’t. And I doubted I’d ever be interested again.
But hey, my life was more than I ever thought it would be.
Sage broke my heart, but he gave me a family.
“Whatcha doin’?” Zelda leaned over my shoulder as the bus pulled out, glancing at the photos I had separated out on my laptop. “Oh! I love that one.”
She pointed to one of my favorites. It was all the guitars lined up along the side of the stage before the show started. I’d shot it before the lights had come up, so there was a great moody feeling to it.
“I wanted you to clear these pictures for the photo site.” I was thrilled and nervous about the whole thing.
It had started with the idea that I’d post my extra non-people photos on a stock photo site and start building a reputation and some cash. But then everyone had gotten involved—because, that is, apparently what they do—and POOF, I had a website.
Not only did I have a website, but I had business cards. Business cards you could pick up at the merch table if you wanted to purchase a Special Behind the Scenes Double Blind Photo.
So, yeah.
“Are there people in them?” Zelda asked.
“Well, no. But—”
“That’s your contract. No people, you’re clear.”
She walked away before I could argue. I was stalling. It was true. But, I was afraid of what would happen if I put my work out there and no one bought it. Especially with how much the band had been pimping me. If they couldn’t sell pictures of their own tour I’d taken, that meant…well, nothing good.
“Hit publish!” Harrison called from the other room.
So I did.
And then I sat staring at the computer…and hitting refresh.
And then I hit refresh.
Then I hit it again.
Then—the laptop disappeared from my little table.
“This is going somewhere you can’t get to.” Zelda did something before shutting it down and handing it to Harrison. “Also, I changed your password, so don’t even try it on your phone. Now. Get some sleep. One more week of this, and then you can sleep in a real bed.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her I slept on a mattress on a dining-bedroom floor. She’d probably have a bed sent. Both she and Harrison were caretakers. It felt like my job, at the very least, was to protect them from the world. They needed
an emotional bodyguard, and that was me.
The girl without a heart.
Sage had finished the job, and now the best thing I could use was my ability to lock down emotions to make sure the people who loved me best were free to love everyone they wanted…safely.
I was a very special kind of superhero now, with a power I wouldn’t wish on anyone else.
I climbed into bed, not wanting this trip to end. The band and the girls and the travel, they were amazing. I felt like I had a place in the world. My job with Zelda was a good one—we did great work together—and one that made me feel...well, not important but something good. Something close to that. Almost, almost like necessary.
I closed my eyes and, like every night, tried to push thoughts of Sage away.
Even three hundred miles away he was still very present. The guys talked to him and about him. There were calls made and questions that needed to be answered. Apparently Sage was the guy.
You’d think this would be a great way to get used to him being in my life without being in my life. But, not so much.
I lay there, eyes closed, trying to think of anything but Mr. Floppy Hair and Gorgeous Hands, but all I could think about was the hard lesson that every betrayal scars you in a different way.
38
Sage
“Are you lost?”
Sage grimaced and hefted the toolbox in his hand. “I know you know why I’m here.”
He’d left a note the day before, explaining his plan. If they didn’t want him to do it, all they had to do was text him and tell him so. He had received no text.
Megan cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t actually think you’d show up yourself. I thought maybe you’d send a lackey or something.”
Sage nodded. He figured he’d have to take his lumps. “I don’t have lackeys. It’s just me.”
She stared at him for a full minute before opening the door and letting him into their small apartment. Small was an understatement.
He came into the cramped quarters and looked in on what was Emily’s “bedroom.” It wasn’t a bedroom. She didn’t even have a bed.