“I said do you think Elliott will let us go on tour with him at some point? Because that would be incredible.” There was color in his cheeks and light in his eyes. His hair was so long that it was falling over them. He looked like himself, and every day he sounded a little more like himself. It had felt like an impossibility all those weeks before, and although as the survivor of sexual assault, he’d likely never be exactly the way he was before, she knew he’d make it to the other side,
“You need a haircut,” she said, hoping to distract him.
“Yeah, I do. But what do you think about Elliott?”
Damn. There was no need for her to share her uncertainty about the nature of their relationship. Kendalee sat down on the bed. Elliott had been the rock that had gotten Daniel through the worst. She’d met with the psychologist this morning, before she’d come in to see Daniel, and had been very encouraged to hear about the conversation in which her son had participated that morning. And everybody on the ward had noticed a change in his attitude. It was as if admitting the extent of what had happened had opened a release valve, a pathway to a new level of healing.
“I’m not sure what will happen once you get home. We’ll have to wait and see on that. But I’m dying to show you the room Elliott decorated for you. You’re going to love it.”
“Hey, Kendalee. How’s it going, Daniel?” Nikan said as he walked into the room. Daniel’s face lit up. “I hear we’re going to be roommates for a while.”
Daniel nodded with more animation that Kendalee had seen in a while. She might never come to like their music, but she would always be grateful to all of the men of Preload for their commitment to looking after her son. “Yeah, and only a few more days until I am out of here.”
“I was just telling Daniel about the room Elliott decorated for him,” Kendalee added, trying not to worry what Nikan’s sudden appearance could possibly mean.
Nik raised his hand, and Daniel high-fived him. “Your TV is bigger than mine, kid. You don’t get out of here soon, I may switch them around.”
“You can’t do that.” Daniel laughed and then looked at her. “He can’t really do that, can he, Mom?”
Kendalee laughed. “He’s just teasing.”
“Erm, Kendalee, could I speak with you for a minute?” Nik asked and gestured with his head to the corridor.
“Sure. Gimme a sec, Daniel. Do you need anything?”
He groaned in response. “I’m fine, Mom. Honestly.”
She followed Nik into the hallway.
“I was hoping to find you here. Have you heard from Elliott since this morning?”
The cream cheese bagel she’d eaten mid-afternoon weighed heavy in her stomach. “Not since last night,” she said. “But he . . . well . . . he wasn’t there when I woke up this morning, and I have no idea where he went. Is he okay?”
Nikan rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m sure he’s fine. If you hear from him, could you give me a shout? Or tell the lazy ass to give me a shout?”
“Of course,” she said, hearing the panic in her own voice. “But I’m worried about him. He’s not answering his phone. Do you know where he is?”
Nikan paused. “I know where he went.”
North. “Give me the address, Nik.”
“It’s okay, Kendalee. I got it. I’ll go see what’s going on.” Nik turned to head down the hall.
“Nik. Wait. You are going to the cottage. To the place where he . . .”—she dropped her voice to a whisper—“burns things.”
Nik stopped and turned to face her. “He told you about that?” Shock laced his words.
“Last night. He wanted to come clean with me. Told me a lot of things. And because of this, because of . . . everything . . . I didn’t handle it the best. I told him I needed time.”
“Shit. I knew he had something on his mind when I spoke to him. I should have gone with him.” Nik tugged an elastic off his wrist and put his hair up into a bun. She’d admire the finesse with which he did it if she wasn’t so damn scared that her response had caused Elliott to do something stupid.
“You spoke to him? When?”
“This morning, around four-ish. You know what? I’m wasting time. I gotta go, Kendalee.”
Her heart raced furiously as he turned to leave, panic seeping through her veins like ice water. “Nik. Wait. Please. I know I screwed up. Everything went wrong yesterday and it just . . . I was wrapped up in it all. I could barely think straight because I was mad about everything else. And then he dropped that bomb on me, and I didn’t know what to do.”
Nik folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow at her. “You shut him out? Shut him down, maybe? Made him feel guilty for a disorder that he worked his ass off to control? He didn’t need to tell you any of that shit. Outside of the band, only a handful of people know, and most of them are tied legally to keeping their fucking mouths shut.” Nik shook his head and began to walk to the elevator.
“I’m sorry, Nik. Please, take me with you. Let me apologize to him.” She needed to see Elliott more than she needed her next breath.
“You were the first woman he ever told, Kendalee. He made room for you in his house. In his heart, for fuck’s sake.”
His words were more painful than a punch to the chest. But each one was true. For the first time since she’d walked into this hospital all those weeks ago, she felt a sense of desperation. “I should have told him that it didn’t matter,” she muttered to herself. “I should have told him that I loved him. Shit. What did I do?” Tears stung her eyes.
“Don’t fucking cry,” Nik said as he rubbed a hand along his jaw. He sounded as weary as she felt. “Fine. You want to come with me, get your shit together quickly. You got two minutes.”
Without wasting a moment, Kendalee hurried back to Daniel’s room and grabbed her purse.
“Are you okay, Mom?” Daniel asked.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” she said with a calmness that she didn’t feel. It was time her son realized she was only human. “I screwed up yesterday. Elliott told me some very important things about himself, and I didn’t respond well. He’s angry with me, and I need to go and fix that, which means I need to leave you alone for a bit. I’ll call your dad on the way out and explain that—”
“Mom. It’s cool. I’m fine. Go.”
“Are you sure? Because I would never put you second. Ever.”
“It’s not putting me second, it’s putting our family first.” Daniel looked at her and she realized her child was more mature than she’d given him credit for. “Mom! Go. He’s done so much for us already. You need to go and make it right. And please, don’t call Dad. Elliott was right when he said I needed space. I’m sick of people right now.”
“I love you, sweetheart,” she said, kissing his forehead.
He threw his hands around her neck. “I love you too, Mom. And so does Elliott. He told me. So go fix this.”
* * *
Exhausted, Elliott grabbed the phone that he’d been charging since he’d arrived and wandered down to the Waterfront. The lake was perfectly still, and a loon flew low across the water, his haunting cry filling the air. The trees were beginning to change. In another couple of weeks, the view would be spectacular, but he wouldn’t be around to see it. He should leave a key with Nikan.
Guilt settled in at not having contacted Nik, or Kendalee. He’d been too concerned about Kendalee when they’d gotten home the previous evening to think about plugging his phone in. When he’d stopped en route to call, he’d been embarrassed to realize he had no battery left, that he didn’t know anybody’s number off the top of his head, and that nowhere was open to make a call that early in the morning even if he could. So he’d headed to the cottage where he could charge it.
He’d arrived at the cabin in record time, something he’d usually be thrilled with, but today not even his car had brought him joy. Instead, he’d plugged in his phone before he wandered up to his bedroom and passed out on the bed without taking off his
boots. Ten fucking hours of sleep. Now he had a sleep hangover that could rival any alcohol-induced effort. His head hurt, his vision swam, and he felt sick to his stomach.
But everything he was about to do was best for all of them. At least he hoped it was. The only thing left to worry about was his music. He knew the band would understand his decision. He knew they’d have his back. Dred and Nikan had always been more capable than he was anyway. He’d always wondered if the darkness in his songwriting was deeply rooted and connected to the issues he’d faced, and he’d considered whether his lyrics and music would become anemic if he didn’t have that dark pit to pull from. But the pit was stopping him from living his life fully, and if he wanted to be the man he aspired to be, it was time to face the demons even if doing so killed his muse.
Anne, the woman who’d saved him from himself all those years ago, was on her way to meet him with the details he needed for his trip. His palms sweated at the thought of it. But Daniel had inspired his own bravery. If a fourteen-year-old boy could find a way to talk to him, a stranger, and find the strength and courage to guide him through what he needed to deal with, Elliott could do the same.
“Knock, knock,” Anne called as she entered the rear of the property through the side gate. “I tried the front, then figured you were back here. What a beautiful spot, Elliott.”
His hands started to shake. Fuck. He was really going to do it. “Thank you for making a house call.”
Anne chuckled. “A rather extreme definition of ‘house call,’ but my pleasure. I’m glad you asked me for help. That right there gives me great hope for you, Elliott.”
He turned and looked at the woman. She’d recently turned fifty yet didn’t look a day over forty, her blonde hair in a tidy bun at the base of her neck. Words were still stuck between his head and his throat.
“When I first saw you, Elliott, you’d had such a dreadful childhood and a miserable experience in the foster system through no fault of your own,” she said.
Elliott laughed without any attempt to hide the sarcasm. “I’m pretty sure burning down someone’s property is fault with a capital F.”
“And you have done a very thorough job of making me believe we’d gotten you to a place where you accepted that your compulsion, your actions, and your intent were a direct result of what had happened to you and the fear you felt. What you are signing up for will work only if you stop lying to yourself and accept exactly where you are. And it will fail horribly if you don’t want to change.”
Elliott looked back out over the lake. The admissions started to course through him. He’d never gotten over Adam’s death or finding him overdosed in a pool of his own vomit. He’d been only sixteen, and they’d been living together at Ellen’s for four years when he did it. And he’d never admitted to himself that he was angry at Dred too, at his absolute rejection of anything drug related after his mom’s death from overdose. Elliott allowed himself to admit that he wondered if Adam might have turned to them for help had he not knows Dred’s stance, which had made Elliott feel as though he couldn’t discuss Adam around the band. To stay in the band, he’d sucked it up.
And he also hadn’t fully dealt with his anger at his mother. The one woman who was meant to look out for him hadn’t. He’d witnessed the way Kendalee put Daniel above everything. Though he’d been hurt by how she’d reacted to his admission, he also admired that she was willing to continue to put her child above everything—even him. He knew she’d been about to tell him that she loved him before they’d stepped onto the balcony, yet she’d been willing to consider walking away from that, from them, for the sake of her son. While it would take him a long time to recover if she still felt that way after . . . well . . . everything he was about to do, he’d still understand her for making that call.
Which brought him to his final realization. He’d never find happiness if he couldn’t find it inside himself. Not the glossed-over version his career gave him. Happy didn’t come with private jets, or massive houses, or platinum records. Happy came from being able to sit by his lake without any urges, or dark thoughts. Happy came from a bucket of crab legs and a plaid blanket on a beach, like on Kendalee’s board, not from looking for the downside. Happy came from a quiet Christmas here at his cottage—snow allowing. And it came from a peace that could only be found deep inside.
“I need help to unravel all this, Anne. A fourteen-year-old boy made me realize I wasn’t whole. His mom made me realize I wanted to be. And I realized that I needed to do it for myself. Because they may not be there when this is all over.”
“I see why you felt there was still work to do. Your asking me for help makes me hopeful. With everything that happened, in all of our sessions over the years, you never once asked me for anything. You never asked Maisey, or Ellen, or any of the people tasked with your care to give you anything or to help you with anything. To receive a call from you asking for help after all these years, after all the meetings we’ve had where you’ve lied so well, is good for both our souls.”
Elliott felt a stab of guilt. “I’m sorry, Anne. I guess I just wasn’t ready.” The words felt woefully inadequate, but it was all he had.
“But you are now, that’s the main thing. The clinic in Denver is expecting you in three days. As you requested, it isn’t an overly serviced facility, so don’t expect room service and high-end sheets, but it is situated well for outdoor activities and the like. Most of all, it has the very highest standards of confidentiality.”
For every wave of terror he felt at exposing himself to strangers, there quickly followed one of relief, and he was certain that over time the height of the waves would drop and the emotions would level out. For a moment, he considered building another fire, one to enjoy that evening, but the thought made his stomach tighten. Another reason to do what he was about to do. Without that as a release, he needed to find other ways of dealing with stress.
“Why don’t we step inside and get something to drink, and you can explain exactly what I just signed up for,” Elliott said. “Better to face it, right?”
“Indeed, Elliott.”
After two hours of discussion, during which Anne helped him prepare for his time away with some helpful insight and a pinch of her well-rehearsed psychologist trickery, she finally placed her belongings back in her purse. “I need to head back before it gets much later.”
Elliott escorted her to the front door. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you helping me, Anne.”
She smiled graciously. “Well, you can show me how much by attending regular appointments with me when you return, right?”
He laughed. “Yes. I will.” Without thinking, he stepped forward and hugged her. It was something he hadn’t done in all the years he’d known her. But he was truly grateful.
“Kendalee, wait.”
The voice he knew well echoed through the night and his stomach lurched. Elliott stood up straight and looked into the darkness to see Nik disappear down the trail.
His heart almost exploded at the thought she was there. “Sorry, Anne,” he said. He sprinted down off the patio, following Nik into the darkness.
* * *
Gravel was working its way into her Converse, and even as she marched away from the cottage, she knew it wasn’t much of a strategy. Wild animals, rapists, shit. She should stop and go back. But she couldn’t stand another second of watching Elliott hug that woman. If she headed back, she could demand Nik take her home. Given that it had been Nikan who had gotten her worked up and had driven all the way up here, he could drive her back. To be fair, though, she’d forced him to bring her along.
Sitting in Nikan’s car, the temperature somewhere between pissed and Frosty the Snowman, she’d gone through every possible scenario in her head. What if she’d pushed him over the edge and he’d set fire to something he shouldn’t? What if he had done what he’d told her he did up there, but then got injured. In her mind, those injuries had progressed from a minor burn on his hand to injuries the ex
tent of Daniel’s that had Elliott dragging himself along the ground on his belly to try to get to his phone.
Then they’d passed an upturned vehicle on the side of the highway, and she’d completely lost her shit thinking about all the possibilities. What if he was dead? What if in his tired state, he’d driven off the road or caused an accident? The whole time she’d spent calling local hospitals to see if Elliott had been admitted, Nik had ignored her. She’d even checked the Ontario Provincial Police Twitter feed to see if they reported any accidents and updated Nik, but he’d just sat there with those cold eyes of his focused on the road.
Worst of all, she thought she’d deserved every ounce of the cold shoulder.
Yet while all those thoughts of him dead in a ditch had been racing around in her head—she’d left her son alone in the hospital to get there—he’d been entertaining another woman at the cottage. Though she hadn’t gotten a good enough look at her because it was freaking dark in the country, she seemed pretty enough.
Or maybe she was doing exactly what she’d done last night.
Her footsteps slowed.
She owed him an opportunity to explain what she just saw.
But then what if was just like Adrian? What if, after everything they’d been through, she wasn’t enough? Kendalee took a deep breath and sniffed. Her heart was so close to shattering, she feared another blow may render it unsalvageable.
“Kendalee. Stop, already.” Elliott’s voice ricocheted through the silence.
Damn. She stopped near a large tree at the side of the road and placed the palm of her hand on it. She could deal with everything he’d told her the night before. She could deal with a future that would involve them all learning and growing together. But she wouldn’t tolerate a moment of unfaithfulness. The sight of Elliott with his arms around another woman had taken the last spark she had inside her. She had nothing left.
His footsteps drew to a halt behind her. “Lee, what are you doing up here?”
Kendalee turned slowly. “I came to speak to you, to check if you were okay. But looks like you were just peachy without me. What the hell was that, Elliott?”
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