When He Returns

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When He Returns Page 5

by Kimberly Rae Jordan


  Sure, Dalton had benefited from it—especially financially—but so had the guy who’d discovered him. By the time Dalton had realized what was going on, contracts had been signed, and things were underway that seemed impossible to stop. It had taken Angel’s death for him to finally pull his head out of the sand and stop living in denial. The road he’d been on would have killed him, too, if it hadn’t been for Jesse and then JD helping him out.

  There might be a whole legal mess ahead because his contracts with the recording company and his management team weren’t done, but Jesse had said he was working with a team of lawyers to see what their options were. They weren’t completely defenseless, it turned out. Over the past couple years, Jesse had begun taping all the conversations he’d had with their management team, or any that he’d heard, particularly pertaining to Angel and Dalton.

  While they might not be admissible in a legal court, in the court of public opinion—especially given the current climate of people standing up for victims—those involved in Angel and Dalton’s lives would be hung out to dry. Jesse felt that they’d have no trouble getting out of their contracts and disbanding Dalton’s Cross for good.

  Dalton was surprised that the idea didn’t give him a panic attack. Maybe it was looking at that life with clear eyes that made him realize how unhealthy it would be to go back to it. Jesse was adamant that Dalton needed to leave, knowing full well that without Dalton, there would be no Dalton’s Cross.

  He winced as he thought of the band’s name, wondering how he could explain that to his parents. The management had come up with the name, obviously assuming that if his name was on it, Dalton would feel more tied to it, which he had. He was pretty sure the cross part had come from them poking fun at Dalton’s religious upbringing. At the time, he hadn’t cared a whole lot. Now was a different story entirely.

  Pushing himself up from the couch, he went to his bedroom to put his notebooks and pens on the nightstand, then he changed into some workout clothes and headed for the basement of the building. There had always been an assortment of equipment down there for working out, but Dalton had given JD money to get the best equipment. With his background as a gym teacher, Dalton had felt JD would do a good job of getting a decent setup for them to use.

  There had been a time in his life—okay, his whole life up until rehab—that he hadn’t cared about working out. He’d been surrounded by brothers who had either needed to focus on their physical fitness—like Kenton because of his profession as a hockey player—or who had just enjoyed it, but it hadn’t been something that had brought Dalton much satisfaction. That had changed with rehab.

  He’d started working out as part of his rehab program and felt it was important to continue on with that. Though he’d never thought he’d see the day when he exercised on a regular basis, Dalton planned to make use of the equipment JD had set up in the basement. JD had even offered to work out with him when he and Danica got back from their honeymoon.

  On his way down, he ran into Elliot who was just coming into the building. They chatted for a few minutes before Dalton excused himself and continued on to the basement. He knew there was one other guy in the building, Marc something-or-other, but as of yet, Dalton hadn’t run into him, although he figured he would, sooner or later.

  Dalton had thought that the basement would be rather dull, but he was pleasantly surprised to find it was quite bright. Mirrors lined one wall, while bright florescent lights hung overhead. The other walls had been painted light blue, and one wall even had a large TV hanging on it. The floor was covered in some sort of tiles that were soft to walk on. There was a couch along another wall that had a water cooler next to it with a nearly full bottle of water. All in all, it was a pleasant space and one that Dalton knew he’d enjoy spending time in.

  On a shelf under the TV, he spotted a set of speakers and quickly discovered that they were Bluetooth. He paired his phone to them and found the playlist that he liked to use while working out. He went first to an open space in front of the mirrored wall and sank down onto the floor.

  Setting his water bottle to the side, Dalton closed his eyes and as he listened to the music, he began to stretch his body like the trainer at the center had taught him. He was far more flexible and limber than he’d ever thought he would be, and he loved how the stretching exercises pushed his body.

  When his music for the stretching part was over, he got to his feet and picked up his water. He took a few sips then walked to the treadmill. After placing his bottle in the holder, he took a minute to familiarize himself with the machine before he turned it on and began to walk. It was similar to the one the center had since he’d given JD the information on which one he’d been using there.

  It was close to an hour later when he finally finished up his workout. He didn’t always work out so long, but he’d missed a day, plus he had nothing else to do that evening. This way he was nice and worn out and ready for bed and sleep…hopefully.

  Once he was done a quick shower, he texted Jesse to see if he was available for a video call. When he texted back that he was, Dalton settled onto the couch for their chat.

  He appreciated that he could be completely himself with Jesse. The man had seen him at his absolute worst and still saw something worth saving in him. Though their chats of late had focused on the legalities that were ongoing, Dalton made sure that he asked Jesse how he was doing each time they talked.

  As the eldest of the band members, Jesse had tried to take care of each of them as best he could. Dalton knew, without the man ever having to voice the words, that he felt Angel’s death deeply. Like he had failed him somehow. Dalton had tried to convince Jesse of the truth, that it was them who had failed him.

  Jesse had flushed so many drugs down the toilet over the years. He’d even gotten both Dalton and Angel into a brief—too brief—stint in rehab in the months prior to Angel’s death. They’d actually stopped their most recent tour early because neither he nor Angel was in any shape to continue. Not that it was the management who’d made that decision.

  After a concert on the west coast one night, Jesse had loaded both of them into a private plane he’d arranged for, and without management’s knowledge, flown them back to Toronto for rehab. From what Jesse had said, the management had been livid. They’d demanded that none of them post to social media until they sorted things out. Which, of course, meant until management had convinced the two of them, that they didn’t need to be at the pricey clinic Jesse had taken them to.

  It was a wonder that Jesse was still speaking to him after all the trouble Dalton had put him through. Jesse’s only response when he’d asked him about it was that he loved him and couldn’t handle another death on his conscience.

  Once their conversation was done—and after Dalton had made Jesse promise to come for a visit—they ended their call, and Dalton went through his bedtime routine. Something else that was new since rehab. Before that, he’d ended up in bed without much care about his teeth or even changing into pajamas. He’d spent plenty of nights sleeping in his clothes.

  As he sat on the edge of his bed, he eyed the notebook he’d set on the nightstand earlier. He waited for something to call to him, to drive him to pick it up and spill his thoughts and emotions. But there was…nothing.

  With a sigh, Dalton climbed into bed and turned off the lamp next to the notebook. He hoped with all his heart that one day, soon, the music and the words would return to him just as he’d returned to his past.

  Memories assailed Dalton as soon as he stepped out of the truck his dad had come to pick him up with. The house looked the same as it had the day he’d left. His last view of it through the back window of the cab he’d taken to the airport when he’d made his escape.

  And yet here he was, willingly returning to the place he’d felt so constrained by before. He had felt like he’d never be able to spread his wings and fly if he didn’t leave it all behind. So he’d left. And he had soared…for a time. It was just too bad that he’
d also crash landed, his wings clipped.

  The front door swung open, and his mom came out onto the wide wrap-around porch. She wiped her hands on the apron she wore then held her arms open as he approached her.

  Just like the night at the wedding, it took him a moment to adjust to the change in their embrace. He’d been a late bloomer and had still grown a couple of inches after leaving so hugging her felt a bit different.

  She held him fiercely, her familiar scent surrounding him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Dalton wasn’t at the place yet where he shared that sentiment entirely, so he just gave her a tight squeeze before he bent to press a kiss to her soft cheek. “It’s good to see you, Mom.”

  Within minutes, he was seated at the breakfast nook with a pile of food in front of him. His mom had clearly decided to make up for the past decade of meals he’d missed. All his favorites were there, but Dalton didn’t have much of an appetite. He was nervous about what this visit would hold.

  Still, he put a couple of pieces of French toast, a scoop of scrambled eggs, and several strips of bacon on his plate. He welcomed the mug of coffee his dad handed him and quickly took a sip.

  Bracing himself for an interrogation, Dalton was surprised when the conversation focused more on the family and the changes of the past ten years than on his life with the band and rehab. His nerves settled, and his appetite slowly returned as he was brought up to date on all the changes the family had undergone over the time he’d been gone.

  The difficult questions came a bit later but seeing the concern and hurt on his parents’ faces made them feel a lot less confrontational. He shared what he could, what he was comfortable with, and hoped that it was enough for them.

  By the time his dad took him home later, Dalton felt like the worst of the hurdles of returning home was behind him. Many still lay ahead, but having reconnected with his parents was an important first step.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sierra let out a sigh of relief when she pulled into her spot behind the apartment building. After a week off, getting through her twelve-hour shift that day had been a chore. She was hungry and tired but couldn’t figure out which she wanted more: food or sleep.

  Gathering up her stuff, she headed into the building, still debating in her mind which demand was higher. As soon as she stepped inside, an aroma greeted her that made her stomach rumble even more. It smelled like rice and maybe stir-fry. As her stomach growled in response, it was becoming clear that food was going to be the winner.

  The aroma got stronger as she climbed the stairs which meant the cook had to be Dalton since JD and Danica were long gone. She glanced over at his door as she reached the second floor, surprised to see it propped open. Was he purposefully taunting her and the rest of the building’s inhabitants with the enticing aromas? If so, he deserved to die…of hunger.

  She’d just reached her door when she heard him call her name. Turning, Sierra burst out laughing when she saw Dalton standing there in a ruffled apron.

  “Did you borrow that from your mom?” she asked as she crossed her arms and leaned back against her door. “Because it looks kind of familiar.”

  Dalton glanced down at it, then back up. “Yeah, well, when I had brunch with my parents this morning, I told Mom I was going to try cooking more, and she felt that meant she had to load me up with things, including the apron I gave her once upon a time.”

  “I well remember it,” Sierra said. “She always was a stickler for donning aprons when cooking.”

  He spread his arms wide. “So, in honor of her, as I cook my first meal in my new home, I am wearing an apron.”

  “Maybe you should have been cooking for her,” Sierra said.

  “I would have if she and Dad hadn’t had other plans this evening, so instead of cooking for them, I’m cooking for you and Elliot. If you’re hungry, that is.”

  “Really?” He nodded. “Well, in that case, I’m starving.”

  “Good. I told Elliot I’d call him when it was time.”

  “Can you give me a few minutes to put my stuff away and change?”

  “Sure thing,” Dalton said with a nod. “Just come on in when you’re ready.”

  With a smile, Sierra let herself into her apartment. Even though she was tired, she moved quickly to put her stuff away and then went to her bedroom to wash up and change. If she hadn’t been so hungry and tired, she might have taken the time to consider more carefully what she was wearing or the need to freshen up her makeup. Instead, she just pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and called it good.

  By the time she got back to Dalton’s, walking through the door he’d left open, she found that Elliot was already there.

  “Hey, Sierra,” Elliot said with a smile. “Guess you weren’t going to turn down a free meal either.”

  “Actually, it has more to do with it being a meal I didn’t have to cook. I’m beat, so not having to hassle a meal when I get home from a twelve hour shift is a blessing.”

  “There is that too,” Elliot agreed. “It’s the one big thing I miss since I moved out of Kenton and Avery’s. My mom is the cook, so when I left, I left her cooking behind too.”

  “She’s not sending food home with you? Emily did that for Danica and me all the time.”

  Elliot nodded as Dalton motioned for them to go sit at the table. Sierra took a moment to glance around the apartment, not having ever been in it, even when it was empty. It was basically a flipped floorplan to her place, but he had it set up a bit differently.

  The table was at pub height, so she had to hop up on the chair Dalton pulled out for her. Her eyes widened as she took in the bowls piled high with steaming brown rice and what looked like a huge amount of stir-fry. At least her nose hadn’t been wrong.

  Elliot offered to say grace, which Dalton agreed to without hesitation. Once he was done, Dalton handed her the bowl of rice.

  “Ladies first,” he said with a grin.

  “I won’t argue because I’m starving.” She took the bowl and scooped some rice onto her plate. “And this looks delicious.”

  After the rice came the stir fry which had loads of vegetables and chicken in it. That was kind of ironic since Dalton hadn’t been a huge vegetable fan as a teen. There’d been more than one argument about him not finishing whatever green vegetable was on the table that night.

  When she said as much, Dalton laughed. “Yeah, well, a few things have changed since then, and eating vegetables is one of them. And to be honest, it only changed fairly recently.”

  As they ate, the conversation revolved around the food and her and Elliot’s jobs. Dalton didn’t offer up much about his life or the events of the past few months. He seemed more interested in encouraging them to talk, although he did share about his visit with his parents that morning.

  “They had lots of questions,” he said. “And I answered what I could, but there is stuff they wouldn’t understand. I was afraid it was going to be all confrontation, so I wouldn’t want to be around them. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. They enjoyed sharing details of stuff I’d missed like babies being born, though I knew a lot of it from the emails Danica sent me.”

  “You read her emails?” Sierra asked.

  “I did. I just didn’t respond.” He shifted on his chair, his gaze lowered. “Which was wrong of me, I know.”

  “What’s done is done,” Elliot said. “You can’t do anything to change it now.”

  Sierra was curious about his life and wanted to ask questions, but she understood that perhaps it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about just yet. If their roles were reversed, she was sure she wouldn’t want to have to delve into her past either when first reconnecting with friends and family.

  That they were sitting there talking at all was rather surprising. She and Elliot had become friends in the past little while since living in the same building, but as teens, the three of them hadn’t spent much time together. Her and Dalton had spent a lot of time in the vicinity of each oth
er, so they’d become friends, but it wasn’t a close friendship like she’d shared with Danica. And though she’d always hoped for more when she’d been a teen, their relationship had never gone in that direction.

  Now, however, Sierra was happy that their friendship was still in place, but she had no interest in anything more. Even if he didn’t go back to his band, Dalton had a life in Toronto that he might not be anxious to leave. For sure any career in music wouldn’t involve Winnipeg as a home base. And as far as she was concerned, Winnipeg would always be her home.

  Things might have started off rough for her and Ethan when they’d moved to Winnipeg from Alberta, but she’d since embraced the city and all it held for her. But even beyond that, she had zero interest in being a rock star’s girlfriend. She could only imagine the hate that would come her way from all the groupies who had hoped to fill that role themselves.

  So she was happy to fill the role of friend for both Elliot and Dalton.

  “And for dessert,” Dalton said once they’d cleared away the dinner, “Brownies!”

  Sierra laughed. “I guess we’ll find out if you’ve lost your touch.”

  As it turned out, he hadn’t.

  “Part of me wants to hate you for this meal,” Sierra said as she sat back in her chair, stuffed to the gills.

  “Why’s that?” Dalton arched a brow at her. “And don’t say you’re on a diet.”

  “No, I’m not, but it’s not fair that I’ve been cooking for years and still can’t make anything that tastes as good as this without Danica’s help.”

  “Don’t feel too bad,” Elliot said. “My mom is the best cook in the world, and she’s tried to teach me for years. I never got any good at it. I mean, I can cook enough to keep myself alive, but that’s usually because I don’t mind living on bacon and eggs and fruit with the occasional box of mac and cheese thrown in for good measure.”

 

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