When the Storm Breaks (Lost Stars)

by Emery Rose

  “So that’s it?”

  “That’s it.” He gave me his charming Brody McCallister grin and fed me my own words. “But it’s been a hell of a ride, baby.” He punctuated his words with a sexy wink, and I hated that he did that.

  In my heart, I knew he wanted this as much as I did. I opened my mouth to call him out on his cavalier response. He pressed two fingers against my lips to stop the words.

  “Go and do what you were born to do. Set the world on fire. Make your sacrifices matter.”

  Then he turned and he walked away, leaving me at airport security with an ache in my heart the size of Texas.

  Come back. Come back. Come back.

  But he didn’t even turn around to look at me. Not once. He kept on walking, and waltzed right out the door, taking a huge piece of my heart with him.

  What a fool I’d been to think we could ever stay in the shallow end.

  Once again, I’d taken a plunge into the deep end and found myself alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Shiloh

  The next morning, I met Landry at a coffee shop on Melrose Place. I hadn’t wanted to go to the house he shared with Dean and since Bastian was in Europe, it didn’t feel right to invite my brother to a house that wasn’t mine. When I arrived at the white stucco Mediterranean style cafe with ivy climbing the walls, Landry was waiting for me at a sidewalk table under a black and white umbrella. When he saw me, he stood up and waited for me to reach him then pulled me into a hug. “I missed you.” I squeezed my eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.

  “Missed you too.”

  He released me and we took our seats across from each other at the small wrought iron table. Landry’s hair was dark but not black like mine and his eyes were more blue than gray, hidden behind Ray Ban Wayfarers. We looked a lot alike, enough to tell we were siblings. His dark hair was cut in short layers, kind of spikey on top, and we had the same smile. We both looked more like our mom and nothing like Rhett.

  “You look great,” he told me.

  “So do you. Really good.” He wore a floral-patterned button-up he wouldn’t have been caught dead in as a teenager, untucked over frayed khaki shorts. I hadn’t seen him since January when I’d asked him to be my date for the Grammy Awards. Big mistake. Bastian had been the one to pluck Acadian Storm out of obscurity and give us our big break, and when we opened for him on his world tour five years ago, Landry had worshiped the ground Bastian walked on. Now he resented Bastian. So rather than being a joyous occasion, it had been fraught with tension and animosity.

  Landry drummed his fingers on the table, probably tapping out whatever beat was playing in his head. For as long as I could remember, that had been Landry’s tell sign when he was nervous. I checked under the table and sure enough his leg was bouncing up and down. Which made me think this wasn’t just a friendly coffee date or a chance to catch up after five months of not seeing each other.

  Before I could question him, a server turned up at our table. Landry ordered a breakfast burrito and a cold brew, and I ordered a sparkling espresso with orange zest and an egg white omelet. I wasn’t in Texas anymore. And I was trying my best not to think about it or wonder what Brody was doing right this very minute.

  “All set to conquer Europe?” Landry asked with a smile after the server left.

  “Pretty sure it’s already been conquered. I’m nervous but excited.” Which was accurate. I’d missed performing and was looking forward to getting back on the stage.

  “You have nothing to be nervous about. They’re going to love you.”

  I loved him for saying that. We made small talk until our food arrived, neither of us saying much of anything important.

  “Gus left the band.”

  I stared at him, thinking I’d misheard. “What? But Gus… why would he leave?”

  “It all got too much for him.”

  “God. I’m sorry, Landry. Are you okay?”

  “It wasn’t a shock. It was a long time coming. But yeah, it hurt. We replaced him. And Noel said he’d stay.”

  Noel was a keyboard player who had joined us for my final tour with Acadian Storm.

  “We need you, Shy.”

  I opened my mouth to protest. He held up his hand. “Just hear me out. I’m not here to ask you to come back to the band. But Dean … he needs a break, man. He’s good. You know how good he is.”

  I knew how good he was, but I also knew how bad he could get and how toxic he’d made everything. His talent had taken a backseat to his volatile personality.

  “One of us had to go, Landry. You know that. I mean… you know I’d do anything to help you but as long as you’re in a band with Dean, I don’t see how that’s possible.”

  “You don’t have anyone to open for you on the final leg of your tour yet.”

  I stared at him, not completely grasping what he was getting at.

  “Let us open for you.”

  Oh my God. No. No fucking way. “Landry… I would do it for you, you know I would but…” I shook my head. “No. I can’t do it.”

  “Shy, you broke up the band and now we’re scrambling to pick up the pieces. You owe us.”

  My jaw dropped. I couldn’t fucking believe he’d just said that. “I owe you? Wow. You sound exactly like Rhett.”

  “Fuck that. I’m nothing like him. I was there for you. I was there for you through it all.”

  “And I’ve always been so grateful to you but what you’re asking me…” I shook my head. “… it’s too much.”

  “Do it for me. Do it for the band.”

  “I can’t just… this isn’t even up to me. My management team would fight me on this.”

  “Bullshit. You’re a Grammy winner. Your album went platinum. You’re their cash cow, Shiloh. They work for you, not the other way around. If you say this is what you want, they’ll bend over backwards to make sure you’re happy.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. Not to mention I didn’t like his tone or what he was asking me to do. “I’ve been trying so hard to get to a good place, Landry. I’ve had to work so hard to get over all the shit Dean put me through. Not just me either. What about everything he did to you and Gus? Why are you still defending everything he’s done?”

  “Because I owe him. And so do you.”

  Oh my God. Unbelievable. “We paid our dues. We both tried to help him but what did he do? He’s trouble, Landry. Always has been. And he’s going to drag you down with him. It’s what he does. How can you be so blind that you can’t see that? You don’t owe him anything.”

  “You don’t get it, do you? You have no idea what he did for us.”

  I huffed out a laugh. “Oh, I know exactly what he did for us. None of it was good either.”

  “It was me. I was the one was cooking the meth. It was all my idea and I started doing it when you were still in high school. We had no money, Shy. Not a fucking cent. Do you really think my minimum wage jobs bought you that Fender guitar for your seventeenth birthday? Do you think it paid for our food and all the bills Maw Maw left me with? All you ever talked about was going out to L.A. And I wanted to make that happen for you. So did Dean. He always knew you had what it took to become a star. Everyone did. Why do you think Bastian Cox gave us our big break? It was because of you.”

  “You …” I shook my head. “I don’t believe you. I would have known about this. It couldn’t have been you. You were working two jobs…”

  “No. I wasn’t. In the beginning I was, yeah. But they didn’t pay enough. Dean took the fall. He served time when it should have been me.”

  I shook my head. “No. No way. You can’t actually think I’m going to believe that?”

  “It’s the goddamn truth,” he gritted out. “Dean knew if he got involved, they’d pin it on him, so he tried to stay out of it.”

  “If it’s the truth then why hasn’t anyone ever mentioned it before? You’ve had years to tell me this. Why now? Why are you telling me this now, Landry?”

  “Hey bab
e.”

  I clenched my jaw at the sound of his voice, steeling myself before I turned my head to look at Dean. He looked good. His hazel eyes were clear, not bloodshot or glossy. His brown hair was messy and disheveled, deconstructed, perfectly styled to look that way. He was wearing a clean white T-shirt, ripped black jeans and motorcycle boots. He looked like a rock star. He looked like a guy who had been to hell and back. His smile was sad, hopeful, like he was worried I’d kick him to the curb. I used to fall for that damn smile every time. “What are you doing here?”

  I should have known they’d ambush me like this. I should have known better than to think my brother wanted to meet up for a friendly chat.

  Without waiting for an invitation, Dean pulled up a chair next to mine.

  “You didn’t return my calls.”

  “I don’t have anything left to say to you.”

  He nodded. “Can’t say I blame you. You look beautiful.”

  “And you look like trouble.”

  “Because I am. But I’m not looking to cause you any more trouble.”

  “You’re just looking for a favor. A really big one.”

  The server turned up and we fell into silence, not wanting to be overheard. He cleared our plates and took Dean’s order—a double espresso. After the waiter was gone, Dean leaned in close to me and said, “But it’s within your power to grant it. I’m begging you. Just do us this one solid.”

  Acadian Storm used to do headliner tours and now they were asking for a chance to open for me. “If this new music is so great, why don’t you get into the recording studio and put out a new album? Line up some promo and a tour. You don’t need me for that.”

  “Did you tell her about Gus?” he asked Landry who nodded. “I fucked everything up. I know that. I’ve burned so many bridges. Pissed off the wrong people. Now we have to start from the ground up and try to do it the right way.”

  It reminded me of Brody when he was talking about the abused horses he worked with, how he started from the ground up and how you couldn’t rush that kind of thing or you’d undo all your hard work.

  “I know we’re broken,” Dean said. “I know there’s not a chance in hell you’d ever take me back. But this is about the music. And once upon a time you believed in me. I need this, Shy. Landry needs this. If you can’t do it for me, do it for him. Please.”

  He sounded so sincere. I was tempted to tell him that his daughter looked so much like him. That she sang all the time, and she had his changeable hazel eyes and dimpled smile. But the part of me who had been burned by him one too many times stopped me from saying anything.

  “Will you at least think about it?” he pleaded.

  I knew Dean. He only begged when he was in danger of losing everything. It would have taken a lot for him to ask this of me. I looked at my brother, the guy who had taken on the responsibility of watching over me after Maw Maw died. He’d worked two crap jobs just to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. I didn’t know if I believed him about the drugs or if he was trying to paint Dean in a better light. But Landry had given up a lot to support me and had never asked me for anything in return.

  Had Dean really gone to prison for Landry?

  I thought he probably would have. Dean was tougher than Landry. He was street smart and he would have done it to protect Landry. God, why was life so complicated? Why couldn’t this be black and white, right and wrong? Why couldn’t my ex-boyfriend be a heartless villain? But I guess if he had been, I never would have fallen in love with him in the first place.

  But if I agreed to this, it would be for my brother, not for Dean. “I’ll think about it.”

  Dean breathed a sigh of relief like it was already a done deal. “Thank you. You won’t regret this.”

  I already did. “I’m not making any promises. This isn’t just up to me.”

  “We’ll sign whatever contract they put in front of us. No drugs, no booze, no trouble from me… I swear on my life.”

  Guilt was a powerful bargaining chip, and Dean had never been afraid to use every tool at his disposal. Once upon a time, I had fallen in love with the boy whose father and brothers had abused him. I’d tried to fix him. Save him. Fill up the emptiness inside him. I had fallen in love with the musician whose guitar skills were some of the best in the industry. I’d never be the guitar player Dean was. He had music in his soul, and I used to believe it would be enough to save him. But nothing had ever been enough for Dean. Not my love. Not the music. Not his friend’s loyalty. Not fame or success or all the fans who screamed his name and proclaimed their undying love for him. The worse Dean’s behavior was, the more his fans adored him.

  For some people, you could give them the whole world and it still wouldn’t be enough.

  Ten minutes later, the three of us walked out of the cafe together. By the time I boarded my overnight flight to London later that same evening, our photos were all over social media along with a few headlines proclaiming: Acadian Storm is Getting Back Together. Dean and Shiloh Back Together. In one photo, Dean had his arm around the back of my chair, and it looked like he was about to kiss me. That wasn’t what was happening but that was how it looked. And sometimes appearances were the only thing that mattered.

  All I could think about on my flight was whether Brody had seen the photos or read the captions. And if he had, would he have even cared?

  Would it have been better if I’d never even met him?

  For six weeks, I’d been living in a bubble. Now the bubble had burst, and I was being thrown back into the real world. My world. My life. It wasn’t in Texas. Never had been. It was probably for the best that Brody hadn’t told me he loved me. Why offer false hope? Better to cut the ties now before either of us got in too deep. Before he got dragged into my world.

  But my God, I missed him so much.

  “Shiloh. Shiloh. Shiloh.” The crowd chanted my name, raising goosebumps on my skin and sending shivers up and down my spine. This feeling never got old. I looked out at the sea of people, shoulder to shoulder in a field in Somerset, England. How had I gotten here? Headlining at Glastonbury. Standing under the spotlights of the Pyramid Stage. Flags from different countries waved in the light breeze and even though the sky was overcast, I was lit up from within.

  The energy was palpable. Electrifying. Adrenaline zinged and fizzed through my veins. I sparked to life, feeling invincible. Like I could conquer the world.

  “Hello Glastonbury! Are you ready to rock and roll?”

  My question was met with cheers from the crowd.

  I was on top of the world. Untouchable.

  I forgot about everything except for the music. My guitar screamed and shivered in my hands, like an extension of my body, the music coming from somewhere deep inside my soul.

  This was the high I chased. This was why I could never give this up. Today, I was adored. If only for a little while.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Brody

  As soon as I walked into The Roadhouse, Colleen set a bottle of Bud on the bar and poured a shot of whiskey. This bar hadn’t changed a bit in the twelve years we’d been coming here. The music was country, the memories weren’t all good, and the women were easy. Over the years, I’d gone home with too many of them and had almost always regretted it the next day. Beer goggles. That’s all I’ve got to say on that.

  “The drinks are on Austin.” Colleen winked at me and I thanked her before pulling up a stool next to Austin.

  “Who died?” I asked him. Austin was notorious for being a cheapskate. Whenever it was his turn to buy a round, he vanished.

  “Drink up. Might be the last time I buy you a drink. Second thought, wait for Jude.”

  I looked over my shoulder as Jude strode in, to the tune of Johnny Cash’s “I Walk the Line” blasting from the speakers. Knowing him, he probably thought that was his theme song.

  Colleen set a beer and a shot on the bar for him too. He gave her a smile and leaned across the bar to give her a hug. Collee
n’s son, Reese had enlisted in the Marines with Jude but hadn’t been as lucky. He’d died in combat, and Jude had been right there with him, so he and Colleen shared a special bond.

  “What’s the big news?” he asked Austin.

  Austin lifted his shot glass, and we did the same, waiting to hear what we were drinking to. The last time he’d called us to celebrate at The Roadhouse, it was to tell us he was getting a divorce.

  “You’re looking at the newest member of Texas A&M’s coaching team.”

  “Holy shit. Who did you have to sleep with to get that job?” I asked.

  Jude laughed and we congratulated Austin then downed our shots. Only then did it really sink in. He wouldn’t be here to coach the high school team this year. And Texas A&M was a two-and-a-half-hour drive from here. Doubtful he’d be commuting. “What about Walker? Is he cool with it?” And what about Ridge?

  “I wouldn’t say he’s thrilled but he understands. I never wanted to work on the ranch. The only reason I came back home was to help out my old man. After he died, I felt like it was my duty to keep things running. But it’s not the life I want. And now that my dad’s gone, my mom’s talking about selling.”

  I took a pull of my beer, thinking about his words. “You’re looking to sell the ranch?”

  He nodded. “It’s a shitload of work. I don’t gotta tell you that. She’d love nothing more than to sell it to you.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t have the money.”

  “I know, man. Just wish you did.”

  So did I. The Armacosts owned a couple hundred acres of beautiful land and it was practically in my backyard.

  “I’d lend you the money if I had it,” Jude said. And I knew he would. Same as I would for him. But neither of us would ever accept the offer. “Why don’t you give Gideon a call. He might be able to figure something out.”

  “Nah. I’ve already asked him for too many favors.”

  “If… when… we decide to sell, I’ll let you know before it goes on the market,” Austin said. “You never know. Your fortune might change by then. You might win the lottery.”