by Emery Rose
“Better than you.”
“That’s not saying much.”
“It’s all good.” He squinted into the distance. “So… I was thinking… maybe I’ll give college a try.”
My brows shot up. “No shit.” I turned to face him. “You wanna go to college?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t do so bad on my SATs. Even the guidance counselor was shocked.” He huffed out a laugh.
“I didn’t even know you took the SATs.”
“You were away. I didn’t want to say anything. Just in case I fucked them up. If I get in anywhere, I’ll be able to get student loans and shit.”
“Sounds like a good plan. As long as it’s something you want,” I added.
“Yeah. It is. Me and Walker have been talking about going together. We could be roommates.”
“You want to stay in Texas?”
He shrugged. “There are worse places to be than Texas. Guess I don’t hate it as much as I thought. And I kind of … I don’t want to be too far from family. I mean, I might not even get in anywhere…”
Ridge wasn’t used to getting what he wanted in life, so he was knocking himself down, trying to prepare himself for the inevitable disappointment. “Hey. You listen to me. Stop talking like you’re not good enough. Like you don’t deserve good things. You do, Ridge. You’ve worked hard for everything you have. Nothing’s been handed to you. Be proud of what you’ve achieved. Don’t put yourself down.”
He averted his face so I couldn’t see it. Then he laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“You. Sometimes you’re so cheesy.”
I rolled my eyes.
He clapped me on the shoulder. “Maybe you should take some of your own advice while you’re at it, bro. You’re better than you think you are.”
With that, he walked away. The little shit. I scrubbed my hand over my face and laughed. Then I thought about his words.
“You’re better than you think you are.”
Shiloh had once told me that very same thing. Too bad she didn’t believe it anymore. A few days after all the shit went down in Miami, I’d left her a voicemail, apologizing for every fucking thing. I never heard back from her and I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’d promised I would always be honest with her. No secrets, no lies. I’d broken that promise, and she probably didn’t know what to believe anymore.
Chapter Forty-One
Shiloh
Three weeks after I lost Brody, Dean quit the band.
Still reeling from the shock of the last bomb that had been dropped on me, I wasn’t prepared for another one to blow up in my face. But as bad luck would have it, I had a front row seat. After I’d finished my soundcheck, I decided to hang around and watch Acadian Storm rehearse. Ever since the media shit storm had been unleashed, Landry and I had gotten closer. He’d been my rock, by my side through it all, our bond stronger than ever.
Whenever I found myself missing Brody, which was every single day, I had to stop and remind myself that he wasn’t the man I thought he was. But still, I longed for him. Missed him so much it was physically painful.
Everyone was in place, instruments at the ready except Dean hadn’t showed up yet.
Landry checked his phone again. “Where the hell is he?”
In the past, Dean had been unreliable but for this entire tour he’d been playing it by the book, showing up on time and behaving in a professional manner. No drama. No crazy parties or trashed hotel rooms. He’d kept his word, and had stayed clean and sober, not causing any trouble. I should have known it wouldn’t last.
He showed up fifteen minutes later. I knew Dean, and it wasn’t hard to see he was furious, his rage simmering below the surface, about to blow.
I held my breath, wondering what had set him off. He strode across the stage and ripped Landry from his seat behind the drum kit. “I’m so fucking tired of your bullshit,” Dean said between clenched teeth, his voice low but ominous. “I’m done. You fucked me over so many times, but this is an all-time low. Even for you.”
I got to my feet, ready to defend Landry.
“What are you talking about?” Landry tried to laugh it off.
Dean released Landry and fished something out of his pocket then sprinkled white powder on the floor. “I’m trying to stay clean and sober, you fucker. Do you want me to fail? Is that it? You want to bring me down to your level?”
Oh my God. My jaw dropped.
“Hey man, I don’t know where you got that but it’s not mine…”
“You’re such a fucking liar. I know it’s yours. You think I haven’t noticed you’ve been coked up this whole tour?”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Marcus appear from backstage.
“No, man. You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Hey Ari. Have I got it all wrong?” Dean asked her.
She looked at Landry then back at Dean and shook her head no.
Landry grabbed her arm. “Did you do this? Are you sleeping with Dean?”
She wrenched her arm out of his hold. “No. You did this.” Her eyes darted to me.
“You’ve always wanted everything I ever had,” Dean accused, his voice shaking with anger. “You’re jealous of me. You’re jealous of your own sister.” His gaze swung to me and now everyone’s eyes were on me.
“Landry… what’s he talking about?”
“You know Dean. He’s just talking shit. Trying to get under your skin.” But Landry couldn’t even meet my eyes, and I knew he was lying.
“What did you do, Landry?”
“Nothing. I didn’t do jack shit.”
“What did you do?” I shouted, my hands clenched into fists, my chest heaving.
“You’ve always been so fucking jealous of your sister,” Dean seethed. “Because you know she has more talent in her pinkie than you do in your whole damn body. You’ve spent years trying to sabotage her. Bring her down to your level so you can control her.”
“Don’t listen to him, Shy. You know it’s not true. We’re family. I’d never—”
“Stop lying to me.” I flew up to the stage and stood in front of my brother. “Look me in the eye and tell me what you did.” At that moment, I knew. He had leaked the information about Brody.
“Shy… don’t…”
Dean got behind Landry, grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, shoving his hand between his shoulder blades. “Tell her or I’ll break your fucking arm, drummer boy.”
Landry’s face contorted in pain. “Fuck. Let up.”
Dean twisted harder. “Okay. Okay. But I did it for you. I knew that guy was trouble. He wasn’t good enough for you, so I did some digging. Turns out I did you a favor.”
A sound escaped my lips that sounded like a growl. I launched myself at Landry, shoving him and smacking my palms against his chest the same way I’d done to Brody a few weeks ago. “How could you?” I smacked his shoulder. “Why don’t you want me to be happy, Landry? Why?”
My heart hurt so fucking much. I took a step back from Landry and looked at him through the blur of tears in my eyes. It seemed like every time I turned around there was something new to cry over.
“You’ve broken my heart, Landry,” I whispered. “And for what? What did you get out of it?”
Dean released Landry and gave him a shove.
“I’m done with you, man. You fucking disgust me.” With a final glance at me, Dean strode away. Without him, there would be no Acadian Storm.
“Shiloh… I swear on my life I never wanted to hurt you. We’re family.”
I laughed harshly. “Family? I don’t believe anything you say anymore, Landry. You’re a liar and a user. You’ve just lost the only family you had.”
I turned and I walked away, my heart heavy, my throat so clogged with emotion I couldn’t swallow.
Marcus stepped forward, having watched the entire exchange. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “You’ve been through a lot in the past few weeks. If y
ou need me to cancel tonight’s show, say the word.”
That he would even consider doing that for me made me tear up again. I shook my head. “But you might need to find another band to open for me. I know it’s short notice…”
“You leave that to me. I’ll take care of everything. James is waiting to drive you back to the hotel. I’ll stop by later to check on you.”
I mustered a smile for him. “Thank you.”
The next five weeks were the longest five weeks of my life. I didn’t cancel a single show. I tried to give the best performance I could. And in the end, the tour was deemed a success. Financially, anyway.
Three days after my final show in L.A. I agreed to meet Dean for dinner. He was renting a place in Malibu. He loved the beach, loved to watch the ocean and back when we’d first moved to L.A., he’d taken up surfing.
“I’m still a shit surfer,” he joked as we sat at the round patio table on his deck and ate cheeseburgers, fries and shakes. The sun was setting over the Pacific, the sky painted apricot and lilac, the air salt-scented and warm with a light breeze coming off the ocean.
“How are you doing, Shy? How are you really doing?”
I looked up from my burger and met his gaze. “I don’t think you’ve ever asked me that.” I’m sure he had but what I’d meant was that it had been a long time since he asked it in a way that sounded like he actually cared.
“There are a lot of things I never asked you.”
This was Dean, showing his vulnerable side. The breeze lifted his brown hair and this evening those hazel eyes were more green than brown. His skin was sun-tanned and he was wearing an old ripped T-shirt and board shorts, his feet bare. He looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him, and I wanted to confide in him. Tell him all the things I should have told him a long time ago.
“Ask me now,” I said.
He toyed with a fry then dropped it onto the burger wrapper and leaned back in his seat. “Okay. What the hell. When I was in prison, why did you give up our baby?” I heard the hurt and the anger in his voice.
All the breath got knocked out of my lungs. Not the question I’d expected. “You… you never wanted that baby, Dean. You never even asked about her.”
“Are you shitting me? I wanted that baby. I told you I did. I told you I’d do whatever it took to look after both of you. I went to prison so you and the baby would be looked after so don’t fucking tell me I didn’t want her.”
I stared at him. “So it is true. You really did take the fall for Landry. Why would you do that?”
“Because I thought he’d do a better job of looking after you than I could. Everyone knew I was trouble. I never pretended to be a choirboy. And I wanted that kid, but I was scared shitless I’d fuck it all up. Because that’s what I always did.”
“You didn’t fuck everything up. We had some good years. I loved you so much.”
“I was crazy in love with you,” he said with a small laugh. “Still am, if I’m being honest. But I always knew you deserved better.”
“So you went out of your way to fuck everything up.” Dean had always been so self-destructive.
“Did a damn good job of it too.”
“You know what we were good at?” He lifted his chin, prompting me to tell him. “Music. We made magic together.”
“Fuck yeah we did.” He smiled at the thought of it.
“And we made a beautiful baby together, Dean. She looks so much like you.” I smiled. “She has your dimples and your eyes. And she loves to sing and dance. She’s happy.”
His eyes searched mine. “You saw her?”
I nodded. “I went to see her. While you were in rehab. I just… I wanted to make sure she was okay and …” I stopped talking, my gaze on the ocean, my longing for Brody so painful it felt like I’d been stabbed in the chest. So much had been lost. My brother. Hayley. My relationship with Dean. Was it possible that Brody and I could find our way back to each other? After everything I said and the way I kicked him to the curb, I didn’t think he’d ever forgive me. I returned my gaze to Dean, my first love. “I’ve made such a mess of everything, Dean.”
He studied my face for a minute and somehow, he understood what I was talking about without my having to tell him. “I learned a few things from this last stint in rehab. Might help you too. You’ve got to be honest. With yourself. And with the other person. If you hurt someone, you need to own up to whatever you did and apologize. Try to fix it. The only thing within your control is the way you deal with all the shit that gets thrown at you. Make a plan and do the best you can. One day at a time.”
“Wow. That was … really… that’s really smart, Dean. I’m so proud of you.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m trying. I always said I didn’t want to end up like my Pops…”
“You’re not him. You’re nothing like him.”
He snorted. “That’s bullshit and you of all people know that’s not true. I put you through hell. And I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. We were so young and stupid.”
He grinned, the dimples in his cheeks making an appearance. “We had some fun times though. We lived like fucking rock stars.”
I laughed. “Yeah, we did.”
He lit a cigarette and we sat in silence for a while, our eyes on the ocean as the last of the sun dipped into it. Before I left, he told me he was going solo and I was happy for him. Happy that he hadn’t given up on the music. It had always been his salvation. I played Hayley’s recording for him and he listened to her singing “Here Comes the Sun'' at least ten times. I hoped Dean would stay clean and sober and that he’d find someone who made him happy in a way that I never had. We were different people now. Life changed us. And even though a part of me would always love him, my feelings for Dean didn’t even come close to the way I loved Brody. The way I love Brody.
My life was so much emptier without him in it.
Chapter Forty-Two
Brody
Ridge slammed the refrigerator shut as I hobbled into the kitchen and filled a glass of water from the tap. He grabbed a green apple from the bowl on the counter and sat at the island, texting with one hand, eating an apple with the other, and somehow managing to keep one eye trained on me.
“What’d you do to your leg?” he asked.
“Nothing.” I guzzled the water and refilled the glass then leaned against the counter to drink it. My hair was matted down with sweat, my T-shirt and jeans were covered in dirt, and I was weary to the bone.
“Why are you limping?”
“I’m not limping.”
Ridge snorted. “Yeah, okay, whatever you say. You’re a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?”
“Not telling me anything I don’t know.”
He set his phone on the counter and stared at me for a minute. Had to admit my brother was a good looking bastard. In the evening sun, his eyes looked bluer, his skin bronzed and his longish brown hair streaked with blond. Tomorrow was his high school graduation and in a few months he’d be off to college. The thought of that made me sad. Happy for him, of course, but this house would be so much emptier when he was gone.
“It’s been three months,” he said finally. “You should call her. You’re miserable without her.”
“I’m just fine. Don’t worry about me,” I said gruffly, rubbing my hand over my chest. I couldn’t decide what hurt more right now. My damn leg or my heart. My heart. Definitely my heart. It still hurt like a motherfucker any time I thought about her. Which was all the damn time. “I’ve moved on.”
He laughed like that was a joke. “Yeah, sure you have. By the way, my English teacher said hi. She got engaged.”
“Good for her.” My ‘relationship’ with Chloe Whitman, if you could even call it that, felt like a million years ago. I hadn’t seen her since that meeting about Ridge last year and could barely remember what she looked like.
“You slept with her, didn’t you?”
I shrugged one shoulder. What did it matt
er?
“Walker and some of the guys are coming over before the party at the lake. We’re gonna order pizza. You in?”
“Sure.”
“Pepperoni?”
“Whatever.”
He shook his head and sighed. “You need to—”
“Don’t tell me what I need,” I gritted out. I rubbed the back of my neck and took a few deep breaths then threw a few twenties on the counter. “Save me a few slices.”
I tried my best not to limp as I walked out of the kitchen. “Good try, bro. But you’re definitely limping.” I held up my middle finger. His laughter followed me into the living room. It had been a while since I’d been thrown from a horse. But today I’d been thrown by a wild mustang I was trying to gentle. I’d rushed it. He wasn’t ready. Another lesson learned the hard way.
After a quick shower, I changed into a clean gray T-shirt and black running shorts and collapsed on my bed. Every muscle in my body ached, a reminder that I wasn’t eighteen anymore. Back in my rodeo days I’d gotten thrown from horses plenty of times. Had broken so many bones and endured so many injuries I’d lost count. But I’d always bounced right back. One time I’d broken my leg and had walked right out of the arena on my own two feet. Stubborn bastard.
Now it was all catching up to me, and it wasn’t as easy to rebound from an injury. I tucked my arms under my head and stared at the bedroom ceiling. Over the past few months, I’d been tempted to call Shiloh a million times. Everyone had been on my case about it. Especially Jude who kept insisting that anything worth having was worth fighting for. But fighting for the things I believed in was partially to blame for getting us into this mess. And every single time I picked up the phone to call her, I was reminded of her parting words.
“I never want to see your face again. It’s a reminder of everything me and Landry lost.”