Leaving Amarillo

by Caisey Quinn

  His gaze lowers to mine and he shakes his head, continuing as if I haven’t spoken. “You’re a part of this band, Dixie Leigh. You always have been and you always will be. And it’s time for us to go on. So let’s go.”

  Gavin is flicking his lighter at his side and I know it means he needs to channel his angry energy, needs to pound out his frustration on his drums instead of on my brother’s face. I’m holding them up—holding them back.

  “I’m serious, Dallas. Let’s not make this some big, dramatic thing. It’s one song. Go. I’ll be cheering y’all on in the audience.” I nod encouragingly, trying to convey to my brother that I’m really okay. And I am. Mostly. The truth is, even though sitting out the encore causes my chest to ache as if it’s been hollowed out like a woodwind instrument, I need to know. I need them to do the encore without me. If this is their big break, I can’t stand the thought of being what keeps them from getting discovered. So I’m going to step aside and give them a shot to do this on their own.

  “Guys? It’s time.” Mandy’s head pokes out of the metal door and she waves a hurried hand at us. “Let’s go.”

  “Dixie?” My brother looks wounded, as if I’m hurting him instead of helping him.

  “Go, Dallas. I promise, I’m okay. I think I let my dinner sit too long and it just isn’t settling well. Y’all go ahead.”

  His eyes narrow as he takes in what I know is probably my less than stellar appearance. I’m not being entirely honest, but Mandy’s words did make me feel ill.

  Watching the uneasy acceptance of my decision in Dallas’s eyes causes my mind to drift back in time to when I was eleven and Dallas and Gavin were going climbing at a quarry outside of town. There was a man-made lake and they planned to climb the highest cliff and jump. I was terrified—heights were never really my thing either. But I went along to make sure neither of them broke their neck. In the end, they both jumped, fist pumping and acting like they’d conquered the world afterward. I’d sat on the sidelines, rolling my eyes and acting as if I weren’t impressed even though I was. Just as I was about to tell Dallas I was going to jump after all, having finally worked up the courage, the boys announced that they were ready to go home and that was that. We left, my moment had passed. And just like back then, it passes again.

  “Gavin?” My brother asks with a slight tilt of his head, having moved on from scrutinizing me. “We doing this or what?”

  Gavin pauses beside me. “I need a minute.” My brother hits him with a hard look of disapproval. “I said I need a minute,” he says through gritted teeth.

  His words form a fist that grips my heart and squeezes it tightly.

  Once Dallas has left, shaking his head and muttering curses under his breath, Gavin turns to me.

  “Why are you doing this? Is it really because of what that manipulative bitch said or because of me? Because of us?”

  “Can there really ever be an us, Gavin? Kind of sounded like you and my brother have already decided against it. Guess I didn’t get a vote.”

  Regret and sorrow are etched into his features when I reach up to smooth them. He says nothing, but I can see it. Being with me is a betrayal of my brother. I don’t know why exactly, I just know that it is. I can’t ask that of either of them, but I can’t deny my feelings anymore, either. I can’t keep doing this with them, being a ticking time bomb waiting to explode all over their dreams and destroying their future.

  “I wish I could explain—” he begins but I cut him off by placing my fingers against his full firm lips.

  “I can’t go back,” I whisper softly, praying my voice is loud enough for him to hear because this is all I’ve got left. I can hardly believe what an idiot I was to think I could channel ten years’ worth of feelings into one night. My need blurred my vision until I was able to lie to myself I guess. “Thank you . . . for our night together. I know that’s all it was for you, and I will never regret it. But right now, Dallas needs you and I need to let him have his shot without standing in the way or complicating things with his drummer. He needs you to have his back out there.”

  “Come with me. We’ll do this last song like we normally do. Everything else we can figure out later.” His warm hand slips into mine, lacing our fingers together, and I’m tempted. But I saw what almost happened between them and I heard what Mandy said loud and clear and I know I have to take a step back. For now at least.

  “I’ve already figured it out. Go. I’m fine. I promise.” Lifting onto the tips of my toes, I place the whisper of a kiss on his cheek. “Knock ’em dead, drummer boy.”

  “After the show, we’re going to talk. And then we’re going to talk to your brother and our new manager.” Disdain hardens his voice on the last word.

  “Gavin, I—”

  “No, Bluebird. Don’t. Don’t talk yourself out of what you want. Right now I couldn’t give a shit about what Mandy Lantram or anyone else says. You always think of everyone else. I want you to decide what you want during this show. If you want to be in the band or not, I want you to decide for you, only for you and not for anyone else. Understood?”

  I nod, knowing full well what I want. The band is everything, and without it, I feel lost.

  The metal door clangs open again, startling me. “You coming or what?” My brother’s voice is razor sharp as his eyes zero in on Gavin’s hand in mine.

  “Coming.” Gavin nods and once my brother is back inside, he pulls me in close. “After the encore, wait for me. Okay?”

  I nod again, but when he lets go of my hand and his fingertips graze my palm, pulling away from mine, I know I’m letting him go in more ways than one.

  Chapter 27

  THE STAGE LIGHTS ARE STILL DOWN WHEN I FIND AN EMPTY SEAT on the edge of a front aisle. I don’t even know what song Dallas finally chose so I have no idea what to expect. The woman next to me is smiling at something on her phone when the gentle sound of Gavin’s cymbal sends shivers across my skin. Dallas plays a few chords and I recognize the song immediately. It’s called “The End” and it’s fitting since they’re the last act to play.

  The lights come up and I see them on the stage, the two men I love more than anyone else in the world—with the exception of Papa. In this moment, I am that girl again. The one sitting on the ledge wishing she’d jumped instead of chickening out. But at least this way I will know if I’m holding the band back from making it big.

  Over the past year we’ve speculated a lot about possible issues. Our love of the classics, our refusal to conform or play pop music, even our look has come under Dallas’s scrutiny when it came time to discuss possible changes. But it was never even suggested that Oz and I could be the cause. We seem like the obvious answer now.

  Emotion swells like soaked cotton balls in my throat and my vision blurs behind moisture as I watch Dallas play the guitar solo. His voice is different from the original lead singer’s and he goes with it, making it his own instead of trying to emulate someone he could never be.

  I’m filled with pride and love to the point of tearing right in half when I see how the audience’s demeanor has changed. Nearly every single member is sitting upright, focusing their rapt attention on the stage, captivated by the energy and the uniqueness of Dallas and Gavin.

  And as happy as I am for them, not being a part of it feels like having an appendage ripped brutally from my body. The hollow ache in my chest is so acute, I half expect to see a gaping bloody wound where my heart should be.

  My gaze lands on Gavin, and the sight of him playing his heart out, completely focused and in the moment, leaves me gasping for breath. Now that I’ve allowed myself to look at him, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him for all the money in the world. My heart pounds out a rhythm identical to the one he’s playing. It doesn’t even seem possible, but somehow, getting to really watch him like this, I am falling even more in love with him. Surrounded by a room full of strangers, I am lost in the memory of him making love to me, my senses re-creating our night together in gloriously viv
id details.

  He is alive out there, behind his drum kit, the man behind the beat. He’s the heart of the band, beating steadily, needing this to survive. I silently shame myself for daring to do anything that could take this away from him.

  Dallas sings the last few lyrics a cappella and I feel them all the way down to my soul. I see us, as kids, the three of us so lost and yet somehow not alone because we held each other together—the bonds we formed became our home, our safe place.

  When they finish, there is applause, but I’m not a part of it. My hands are otherwise occupied, one over my mouth to keep me from screaming wildly for them and the other over my heart because it’s so completely broken.

  I reach in my bag to grab my phone so that I can snap a quick picture of them onstage, something I normally can’t do since I’m up there with them. Ignoring my notifications, but noticing that there are several I need to check later, I take a picture of them as Dallas tells the crowd good night. I’m about to head backstage to tell them how amazing they were, when a hand lands unexpectedly on my lower back.

  “That was great, but it would’ve been better had you been up there with them.” The voice in my ear belongs to the owner of the hand. It’s male and low and far more intimate than the moment warrants.

  I turn to see Brian Eades giving me a sympathetic smile.

  “Yeah, um, I wasn’t feeling well. Decided to sit this one out.” I try to step out of his reach but he walks with me toward the stage.

  “Their loss,” he says, winking as if we share a secret.

  “Nah. They did great without me.” My lips attempt a grin but only half my heart is in it.

  “Hey, Bluebird. You ready?”

  Tingles explode across my skin the moment I see the fierce glint in Gavin’s eyes. He’s pissing on me a little, marking his territory in a way he shouldn’t, but I can’t even muster up any fake feelings about being offended. I give Brian a parting smile and make my way to Gavin.

  My brother is standing farther away from us but not out of my line of sight. He’s shaking hands with the man Mandy introduced us to along with Brian.

  I follow Gavin outside, feeling much more at ease when I can feel his warmth.

  The driver steps out but I wave him off because I just need some fresh air right now.

  “I know what you did back there, and I saw your face when we were done.”

  I don’t respond. There’s no use in lying and I don’t have the words to explain what it felt like sitting there watching them perform without me.

  “I don’t care what anyone says. You aren’t sitting out ever again.”

  My chest heaves noticeably either from my pounding heart or the effort it takes to breath over the pain threatening to surface.

  “Damn it, Dixie. Say something. I saw you. What that did to you. Look at me.”

  My eyes move upward to meet his gaze. “Y-you did wonderful. Both of you. The encore was amazing.”

  “The encore was fucking wrong.”

  I shake my head. “It wasn’t. The two of you were electric up there. You had the entire room captivated.”

  Gavin frowns at me. “I didn’t notice. The only person I could see was you.”

  It feels so good to hear, so much better than the pain of not performing with them that I lift up on my toes and kiss him without thinking.

  Firm hands grip my shoulders and move me backward a step. “We can’t do this, Bluebird. You know that we can’t.” His voice is a barely coherent groan, but his eyes say something completely different. I drop my bag on the ground and let my hands slide into his hair.

  “I know. You’re right. I know.” Those are the last words out of my mouth before I lift up to kiss him again.

  What begins as a sweet gesture of love and understanding—maybe even of apology—quickly turns into the wettest, dirtiest most intense kiss I’ve ever experienced. We are lips and tongues and teeth fighting to get closer, to mark and claim. When he growls into my mouth and lifts me onto his waist, my legs wrap around him and I’m ready—ready for him to open the back door and take me in the backseat in more ways than one.

  “Gavin,” I whisper when his mouth descends on my neck.

  “Fuck me,” he says more in surrender than in demand. His tongue traces the outer shell of my ear before his teeth graze the sensitive skin below it as if he’s contemplating taking a bite. “Why do you have to taste so damn good?”

  I shiver in his arms, and he sets me down.

  He’s shaking his head softly side to side even as he rests his forehead on mine. I wrap my arms around his waist, attempting to pull him closer using his deliciously defined hip bones but he steps back.

  He’s breathing hard and still shaking his head when he steps up onto the curb. “I promised him. I fucking promised.”

  I look up at him from beneath my lashes. “Gavin, life is not black-and-white, right and wrong. Nothing about what we did is wrong. At least it didn’t feel wrong to me . . . It still doesn’t.” My heart begs me to shut up, to stop this before I put it in a vulnerable position it isn’t prepared for. It’s still reeling from watching them play without me and hasn’t had time to suit back up for round two. “Do you regret it? Do you regret me?”

  Sitting out the encore has taught me about the sting of regret, about the weight of finality that settles onto your chest when you realize there’s nothing you can do to change what did or didn’t happen. You just have to accept it and try to move forward carrying whatever scars it left on you. I’m terrified he’s about to give me another one I don’t have room for or the strength to carry.

  His brow dips as he glares hard enough to cause me to spontaneously combust where I stand, but he says nothing.

  “Just tell me,” I demand, my voice rising uncontrollably. “Fucking tell me. Do. You. Regret. Me?”

  Lust deepens in his gaze, giving way to anger. When he finally speaks, it’s through a clenched jaw.

  “Remember what you said? About being the one I fall asleep needing, the one I want to wake up with, and the one I can’t stop thinking about?”

  I nod because it’s all I can do when he steps closer and scrambles my brain.

  “You are, Bluebird. You already fucking are. You always have been.”

  My entire world shifts at his confession. The band, the pressure, my brother, even the music fades, breaking every bond I’ve ever made to this world. There is only Gavin, only us. Illusions of grandeur are blinding as they come to life behind my eyes. What we have is so much stronger now that I know I’m not alone in this.

  He’s still glaring down at me, his eyes memorizing me as if seeing me for the first time. I pull my lower lip between my teeth and watch him watching me. We have everything to lose, but somehow that doesn’t mean what it once did.

  I reach for him, to hold him, to kiss and console him, to tell him everything. That I am in love with him, that I’ll never sit out again, that he is so much more to me than he realizes. But I don’t get the chance.

  “Garrison! What the fuck, man?” My brother’s voice lands on both of us like a sledgehammer shattering our perfect moment.

  Gavin whirls around to where Mandy and Dallas are charging toward us. His hands go up and he takes a step away from me. “Easy, Dallas. It doesn’t mean what you think it does.”

  It doesn’t mean what you think it does?

  What does he think it means? What does it mean? The questions sting my mind like angry hornets. The neon lights blur on the darkened street before me.

  “You two bailed on me in there. We should be meeting people and introducing ourselves. Not hiding outside.”

  “If Dixie was feeling so ill she couldn’t perform, I think it’s time to call it a night.” Gavin stands like a proper doorman ignoring my brother’s obvious annoyance.

  Mandy goes first and Dallas follows. I wait a beat, picking up my previously discarded purse and allowing my eyes to meet his with an unspoken uncertainty.

  Once we’re all in the car and Ma
ndy gives the driver the address to our hotel, I feel my purse vibrating and remember the notifications I meant to check earlier. Both of the guys are sitting with clenched jaws staring out the windows. Mandy is smiling to herself and I’m pretty sure she’s checking her makeup in the driver’s rearview mirror.

  Pulling out my phone I see several missed calls from Mrs. Lawson’s number. Probably more updates on her cats, but she left a few voice mails so I press the button to listen to them anyway.

  The first one is so shrill and panicked that I can barely understand it. But the second one is crystal clear.

  Papa had a heart attack. She found him in the front yard early this morning, and he’s at St. Anthony’s in critical condition.

  “We have to go home,” I say, feeling the phone slip from my grasp. “Now.”

  Chapter 28

  THE DRIVE FROM NASHVILLE WAS A BLUR. I DON’T THINK I SPOKE A single word. After the initial chaos of deciding if the three of us could afford a flight and realizing none of them left until eight the next morning anyway, we loaded into Emmylou and hit the interstate. I think they might have tried to get me to eat and I know I took a drink of someone’s gas station Big Gulp at some point, but that’s about all I can remember.

  I was hurt and upset but I can’t remember why. I can’t remember anything. Nothing feels consequential enough to matter.

  My thoughts are muddled in a foggy tunnel of fear and uncertainty.

  The intensive care unit waiting room is bathed in the grayish blue of the cloudy afternoon. Faint hints of human waste and the overpowering sting of strong antiseptic hit me hard, like running into a wall. We made it a few hours earlier than we should’ve arrived had we been obeying traffic laws. Dallas finds a nurse in charge and we’re told that a doctor will be in to speak with us during afternoon rounds, until then, all we can do is sit by Papa’s bed and watch machines breathe for him and drip fluid into him. They beep out a rhythm but for the first time, I don’t hear music. I hear finality. I hear time passing.