by Lane Hayes
“It’s no one’s fault. I’m fine.”
I hated the note of uncertainty in my voice. I felt jittery and unsteady. And scared to death this feeling was part of my new normal. The truth was, I wasn’t fine. I was so far from fine I needed binoculars and a map to find my way back.
The entire episode was a cold reminder my life had changed drastically. There were people like Tara who had obsessive crushes on us and others like Brian out there who related to Spiral in ways the four of us couldn’t comprehend. My former bodyguard hadn’t registered as a potential threat because he was “normal.” He was quiet but diligent. He paid his taxes on time and didn’t have a single parking ticket on his record. He was the consummate observer. The perfect bodyguard. If his obsession hadn’t taken an alarming turn, we might never have known he was potentially dangerous. The impending investigation would probably take weeks to complete, but the authorities hadn’t found anything other than an impressive astronomy collection ranging from constellation maps and old Carl Sagan videos to Star Trek memorabilia.
“How’s Adam doing?”
I shrugged and gave him a perturbed look. “Fine.”
“There’s a lot of ‘fine’ going on here. As one of your closest friends, I’m going to go out on a limb and call bullshit. I love you like a brother from another mother, Isaac. We all do. And we’re not worried about the boo-boo on your arm. We’re worried about your head. You keep a lot to yourself, and I’m the first to say that’s your prerogative, but be careful about keeping all that negative bullshit inside. Let it out.”
“What do you want to talk about? The deranged bodyguard who tried to kill the guy who—”
“The guy who what?” Tim prodded.
“Adam shouldn’t have been there. He shouldn’t have ever been in this kind of danger. He shouldn’t have been exposed to… this.” My voice was thick with emotion.
“No one could have known what Brian would do. Honestly I think Brian surprised himself. But you can’t beat yourself up for any of this. You’re the one lying here with your ass hanging out in a tacky blue gown, for fuck’s sake. All I’m saying is don’t let the things you can’t control take over. Deal with your anger so you own it and it doesn’t own you.”
It was good advice. So very reasonable. But I couldn’t shake my feelings of helplessness and failure. Like or not, I was responsible. I hadn’t been the one wielding a weapon, but I was the reason it happened.
A FEW hours later, I was finally home. The circus outside the hospital was matched at the entrance to my building. We used the back door, but it wasn’t much better. I waved to the crowd and flashed a reassuring smile as paparazzi snapped my photo and reporters tried to push microphones in my face. Adam and Omar huddled around me protectively and ushered me inside to the waiting elevator. I sighed in relief when Adam opened the door to my condo. It felt good to be home. However, I could have done without the freaking florist shop in my foyer.
Adam saw my expression and exchanged a look with Omar, who immediately picked up two of the larger bouquets and set them in the hallway. I felt like a ridiculous diva, but I couldn’t stand the sight of flowers. I headed for the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water while they talked in hushed voices about security concerns.
I leaned against the island and waved to Omar when Adam showed him to the door a few minutes later.
“How are you feeling?” Adam asked as he moved toward me. He cupped my chin and stared deep into my eyes as though looking for secrets. I wanted to memorize him, trace the creases accenting his brilliant eyes, and just… drink him in.
“I—oomph.” Adam scooped me up like a rag doll and squeezed me hard. Then he pulled back far enough to nudge my nose with his and fasten his lips over mine in a possessive kiss. “My arm.”
“Shit. I’m sorry,” he said, backing up slightly to give my arm room. “I’ll be gentle.”
He carefully wrapped his arms around me and recaptured my lips, then slid his tongue alongside mine. This time his kiss was pure magic. Slow and seductive. A pervasive tingling sensation spread like wildfire through my limbs, rendering cohesive thought impossible.
He didn’t release me until we were both reeling. If I had been a cartoon character, there would have been stars and birds circling my head until my vision cleared. Adam didn’t allow for clarity. He pulled at my T-shirt, seeking skin, as his tongue demanded entry again, using a little more force this time. I sank into the connection, letting him take what he wanted, because the temptation was too strong to resist. But when he started to unbuckle my belt, I pushed his hands away and took a step back.
“Adam, we….” I swallowed around the lump in my throat. I was a fucking wreck. One who knew he had to make some serious changes immediately. “We need to talk.”
“What is it, baby?” His words had a lightness, which invited me to let go of my burdens. To set them down for a moment and maybe leave something behind. I wanted to accept his offer. But I couldn’t.
I bit my lip hard when I felt a sting of tears behind my eyes.
I was not a crier. Through the most traumatic events in my life, I’d stayed dry-eyed. Family drama didn’t stick, and lovers were never allowed close enough to hurt me. I stayed in a neutral zone in everything except my music. Music made any residual ache or emptiness fade to background noise. If I didn’t exactly smile through tough times, I didn’t lose my cool.
But fuck, I wanted to break down like a baby now.
“It’s time for you to go home,” I whispered.
Adam didn’t move a muscle. For a moment I wondered if he was breathing. Or if I was. He licked his lips and cleared his throat noisily.
“I am home.”
Three words. Three simple words was all it took. And not the ones I would have suspected. I swiped at the moisture gathering at the corners of my eyes and looked out my window at the impressive view. The cold day fit my state of mind. Barren trees, frosted rooftops, and muted shades of blacks and grays everywhere.
“It’s January. You said you were leaving in January. You should open your bakery on Pine Street. You should rebuild your life at home with your family and your friends. People who can be there for you and keep you safe.”
I glanced up when he didn’t move or respond. And immediately wished I hadn’t. He looked like he’d taken a shot in the gut.
“I get that you’re scared, Ize, but—”
“I’m not scared. I’m just not right for you, Adam.”
“Oh?”
I felt like I should have been able to read that one little syllable, but I couldn’t. And now his expression wasn’t giving anything away.
“I was what you needed for a short time. I was different but familiar. A part of your world but not really. My real world broke the spell, Adam. I’m not from your town anymore. Even before Spiral I felt like an outsider, but now—the reporters, photographers, the travel, the pressure… this is my life. I wish it was all music all the time, but it’s not. And as it turns out, sometimes it’s dangerous too.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re breaking up with me to protect me?” he asked with a furrowed brow.
“‘Breaking up’ doesn’t really fit. We’re friends. We always were and we always will be. It’s not like we won’t ever see each other, but—”
“Stop it!” Adam shook his head angrily. “What happened was a freak incident. I wish I’d spotted that knife before you did. I’m sorry you wound up in the hospital. And I’m really sorry I didn’t take you seriously when you said you thought it was Brian right from the start. I wish I’d known. I wish—”
“You aren’t responsible for me. I’m not yours to—”
“You are mine!” he yelled.
“Adam….”
“And when I think about what could have happened if you hadn’t been wearing that jacket… if you hadn’t turned the right way—fuck! You might not be here and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I can’t process that. I just… can’t.”
I opened my mouth and immediately closed it. The wall of emotion emanating from him frightened me. I didn’t know how to respond to his fear while I was having a hard time grappling with my own.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m okay, but what happened was a wake-up call. I can’t put you or your family at risk because some overzealous reporters want to know your life story or random shit like how your parents met or where your niece is going to attend preschool. I can’t look out for you or keep you safe from the vultures who—”
“I don’t need to be safe. I need you.”
“You need other things too. I’m setting you free now,” I said in a small voice, lowering my head to stare at his red shoes.
Adam lifted my chin and set his finger on my bottom lip. He didn’t speak until I looked into his eyes.
“Free. No. That’s not what you want. I know that word, and I know what it means to really want freedom. I know what it feels like to be trapped and unhappy. This isn’t about freedom. It’s about fear and pride.”
“You’re wrong.” I took his hand and threaded my fingers through his before continuing. “I’d give up everything I have, let it all go, if it meant I could have a normal life with you. I’d follow you anywhere you wanted to go, even Springville,” I added with a watery smile. I could hardly see through the tears in my eyes, so I held his hand a little tighter.
“We could have a small house with a big front porch and a couple of Adirondack chairs. We’d sit outside playing guitar while your cookies were in the oven. I’d teach you new chords and you could put me to work in your bakery, stirring ingredients. Or maybe you’d say I was hopeless and just let me run the register. I wouldn’t mind as long as I could near you. I love you, Adam. I think I always have, and I know I always will.”
“I love you too.” He pulled his hand out of mine to hold my face. He wiped at the corners of my eyes with his thumbs, then kissed my forehead before pulling me into his arms.
We stayed entwined in an uncertain embrace. I was afraid to move away and afraid to let go. I clutched at his shirt and buried my nose in his shoulder. He pushed me back gently, but he kept me close. So close I could feel his breath on my lips.
“But we can’t—”
“Don’t.” His voice was sharp and cutting but laced with pain. “Nothing happens because you can’t do it. It’s because you don’t want it bad enough. Rock stars are busy guys. I get it. But I’ve known you for a long time, Isaac. Avoiding real life is your specialty. You hide behind a guitar when things get crazy. You say it’s the music, but that’s only part of it.”
“What’s the other part?”
“You’re afraid to feel… really feel. You didn’t like it when I showed up at your door because I reminded you of a place and time you didn’t trust. But you took a chance and let me in anyway. What happened with Brian reminded you that things don’t always go as planned. You say it’s a wake-up call. I say it’s a reminder that real life hurts sometimes. Sometimes you can’t be neutral, and baby, it’s fucking scary. That’s reality. But it’s not all bad. Sometimes it’s really fucking amazing. It’s a chance you take. Or you don’t.”
Adam raked his hand through his hair. When he spoke again, his voice cracked… and my heart fucking ripped in two.
“Millions of people tell you they love you every day. They tell you you’re beautiful, sexy, funny, and some would literally kill to be with you. But they don’t know you. They’re fake. This is real and it’s scary as fuck. You say you want me to go, but what you really want are guarantees neither of us can give. No one knows you better than me. And no matter how many fans scream your name and tell you how much they love you… you know the truth. No one loves you more than I do. No one.”
When I blinked back a flood of tears, Adam pulled me into his arms. He murmured sweet nothings and held me tightly. I leaned against him and breathed him in until he gently pushed me back again. Then he pressed a soft kiss on my forehead and let me go. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of footsteps retreating, and didn’t open them again until the door finally clicked shut.
THANK GOD my job didn’t require me to interact with other humans in the days after Adam left. I was tempted to burrow under a mountain of blankets to wait out the rest of winter. My brush with a fanatic granted me a short break from reality. Everyone gave me a wide berth. They assumed I was shaken, exhausted, and mentally drained. That was all true. But my biggest issue wasn’t my body or mind. It went deeper than I’d imagined.
The afternoon I sent Adam away, I went to my music room for a couple of hours and returned to find I was truly alone. It was the beginning of my new hell. But hey, I got what I asked for. I couldn’t complain. This was the way I’d said I wanted it to be. The guest room closet was empty. The kitchen was clean. There were no towels on the bathroom floor. My house was back in order.
I fucking hated it.
What used to be a haven now felt sterile and cold. Like a white canvas. Not a blank one with endless possibility, but a formerly colorful one that had been painted over in a shade of pale nothingness. I couldn’t stand it. Yes, I’d asked for it. Yes, my reasons were sound. And yeah, I was sure I’d done the right thing. The problem was I’d grossly miscalculated how damn painful it would be.
The emptiness overwhelmed me. It taunted me like a ghost lying in wait at the end of the day to remind me of what wasn’t there. No laughing man in my kitchen, no one commandeering the remote control or leaving water bottles on coasters… and no one in my bed. I lost the will to do anything more than play my guitar. My appetite and my energy level flagged. The muscle mass I’d gained from my daily workouts with Adam faded fast, and sleep was not my friend.
Two days after he left, I took a blanket upstairs to my music room, turned off my phone, and locked the door behind me. There was running water and some cereal and crackers in the kitchen. I didn’t need much. Just a quiet, safe place to lie low and rest.
A LOUD knock startled me from sleep. It was a blessing in disguise. My dreams were flat-out frightening. I almost always woke up sweating with my heart beating like a drum. A knife featured regularly. Sometimes there was blood, which normally would have been enough to ensure I didn’t sleep well for days. But that didn’t faze me now. What got me was the shadowy figure lurking in the dark corners of my dreams. He looked like me. I’d follow him, and when he picked up his pace, I adjusted mine until I was in an all-out sprint trying to catch up. It was futile. I’d never get there.
I sat up on the sofa and pushed the blanket away. The banging was accompanied by a muffled yell now. I couldn’t make out my visitor’s words, but I knew this one was persistent. If I didn’t answer, he’d find a way in. I sighed heavily and trudged to the door. I opened it with a grunt and shuffled back to my makeshift bed.
Rand stormed into the room with his cell plastered to his ear, and he came to hover over me.
“He just let me in, and yeah, he looks like shit. I’ll take care of him. He looks like he hasn’t eaten or showered and—I know you’re worried, babe. He’s fine. I’ll have him call you later. I love you too.”
Rand shoved his phone in his coat pocket and gave me a disgusted once-over. “Are you fucking kidding me? Everyone is going crazy worrying about you and you’re napping in your music room? Un-fucking-real! Christ, open a window in here. It’s stuffy and—are you sick? Is that why you haven’t answered the hundred or more messages we’ve sent over the past couple days?”
I held his gaze for a moment, then pulled the blanket over my head. He yanked it off me and tossed it to the other side of the room, leaving me exposed in an old Pirates sweatshirt and pj bottoms.
“Go away. I don’t need you, Rand. Why aren’t you somewhere warm? I thought everyone was going on vacation. Leave me alone.”
My voice went from indignant to pathetic in seconds flat. I curled into the fetal position and closed my eyes.
“Will’s play opened last night. You were supposed to be there, asshole. He was fucking frantic wo
rrying about you and—” Rand let out a giant rush of air and fell onto the sofa beside me. “So was I. I know you aren’t fine, so don’t insult me. Tell me what’s wrong, Isaac. Is it the crazy bodyguard? Is your arm bothering you? Are you depressed? Sad? Talk to me.”
I wearily sat up to face my friend. “No, no, yes, yes.”
“O-kay… let me give you a brief update on the state of the nation here. Cory and Holly are in the Bahamas. Tim and Carter are on a Disney cruise with Tim’s nephew. Will and Benny are swamped at the theater, Zeke is at work, and Adam is….”
“Gone,” I whispered.
He didn’t speak for a long moment. Very un-Rand-like. I licked my dry lips and glanced over at him. “I know.”
“How do you—” I slumped deeper into the cushions in defeat. What difference did it make? God, I was a mess.
“I liked that guy. You did too obviously. What happened?” Rand asked.
His soft tone caught my attention. Rand was an action-oriented kind of guy. He wrote about feelings, but he didn’t talk about them much. And neither did I.
I gave a weak shrug and turned to look out the window. Except the blinds were drawn. I fixated on the neat row of prize guitars at the opposite end of the room, then on the short stools propped next to one of my amps. A memory of the night I invited Adam here after he’d dragged me to Staten Island to cheer me up flashed in my mind. With cookies, I thought with a wan smile.
“Isaac….”
“I told him to go. This isn’t his world. It’s dangerous, intrusive, and sometimes it’s just plain ugly. He deserves better. It’s… harder than I thought it would be. That’s all.”
“Does hiding up here make it any easier?”
I snorted and shook my head ruefully. “No. It’s probably worse. The only bright spot has been no Internet. I left my computer downstairs, and my phone ran out of battery a week ago.”