Bad Company (Avery's Crossing: Gage and Nova Book 1)

by Minard, Tori

  “Thanks.” I was blushing, for chrissake. I could feel the heat in my face.

  “I had no idea.”

  “You didn’t even know who I was until I told you,” I said.

  “I’m sorry. I guess that was kind of insulting, huh?” She sounded more amused than sorry.

  I glanced at her, then looked away. “No. It’s fine.”

  “Gage. I can tell I hurt your feelings.”

  I scowled at her. “You did not hurt my feelings, Nova. I don’t expect everyone in the world to know who I am or recognize me on sight. That would be ridiculous.”

  She smiled, an expression that made her look even more elfin than usual. “Okay. Would you play me something else?”

  “Sure. What would you like to hear?”

  “I have no idea. I don’t know your repertoire.”

  “Repertoire?” I said, giving her an empty-headed stare. “That’s an awful big word. What’s it mean?”

  She tossed a throw pillow at me. “Smartass.”

  I dodged. “Hey, careful there. You’re going to damage the instrument.”

  “I’ll damage the instrument all right. Now play something. Don’t make me go over there.”

  “I’ll play if you keep drinking your water. Otherwise, you get nothing.” I pointed at the glass. “Drink up.”

  She heaved a theatrical sigh. “Fine.”

  I waited, eyebrows raised, until she took a sip.

  “There,” she said, glaring at me. “Satisfied now?”

  “I’ll be satisfied when the glass is empty.”

  I started another piece, “Raven’s Beak” by World Strider, and didn’t look up until it was done. I was really on a World Strider streak today. When I checked, Nova was about a quarter of the way through the glass of water. This music thing was working. So I kept going, playing classics and some contemporary songs until she’d finished all of it. I even slipped in a couple of my own compositions, although I didn't notify her I was the songwriter.

  “I love your voice,” she said. Her face turned pink.

  “Thank you. You’re one of the few who’s heard it.”

  “Really? You don’t perform?”

  “Hell, no.”

  She frowned. “Why not? You should. No, really, Gage. You’re seriously talented.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It’s just something I’ve always kept to myself. Except for Jeremy. We used to jam together sometimes.”

  “Jeremy?”

  “Lindstrom. He—uh—he died last year.” Stupid, but I still had trouble getting those words out of my throat.

  “Oh. That’s right; I remember hearing about that. It was really sad.”

  “Yeah.” I tapped the sound box of the guitar. “Yeah, it was.”

  “I didn’t know you were friends.”

  She didn’t know a lot of things.

  “We were pretty close,” I said. I bent my head back to the guitar, strumming some random chords.

  “It’s hard to lose someone like that,” she said softly.

  “Yeah.” I kept strumming.

  “I had a friend who died when we were in high school.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear about this.

  “Yeah. She was riding her bike and she fell off. Hit her head. I guess she thought she was okay, because she just kept riding. But then she sort of fell over and passed out. And she died.”

  I looked over at her. She had a faintly sad, thoughtful expression on her face. Nothing to suggest she’d been deeply traumatized by the death, but sad anyway.

  “Were you close to her?”

  Nova shrugged. “Not super close. School friends. I wasn’t there when it happened, but some other friends of mine were. They were really broken up. They blamed themselves, thought they should have known she was so badly hurt.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I guess that happens. People blame themselves.”

  “My mom told me it was really common. She’s a GP and most of her patients are healthy, but she occasionally has patients who die.”

  “I—uh—I was there when Jeremy died. I mean, not when he died died, but when he ...” My voice trailed off. I cleared my throat. “What I mean is, I’m the one who found him.”

  She sat up a little straighter. “Oh, God. How awful.”

  “Yeah. Awful.” I blew some air out through my nose and strummed a few more chords.

  “He died of a drug overdose, right?” she said.

  I nodded. “Yeah, he did.” And maybe something else, but I couldn’t tell her about that.

  “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”

  I hadn’t really talked about it at all. Not with anyone. Nobody had wanted to hear about it.

  Okay, that’s not really true. Everyone had wanted to talk about it. Everyone had their opinion on what Jeremy’s real problem had been, how his family and close friends should have helped him, or how nobody could have really helped him.

  Everyone wanted the juicy, nasty details of his death. How had he looked, Gage? What was he doing at the time? Why do you think he chose that time to get wasted instead of waiting for you to show up? Do you think he meant to do it? Was it a suicide?

  Or else they just looked at me like they thought I might explode at any moment. Or with pity. I hated that. The pitying glances and the whispers.

  Gage found him, you know. He and Gage were supposed to go to a party together, you know. It must be eating Gage up inside …

  “You’ve probably talked it to death,” Nova said.

  “Not really.”

  “Oh?”

  I glanced at her again. She didn’t seem judgy. She was just watching me, her gaze calm but free of pity. Accepting, I guess. She seemed accepting.

  “Yeah, everyone wanted to hear my side of it,” I said. “But I really didn’t feel like sharing. They just wanted the gossip. They didn’t give a shit about Jer. Or me, either.”

  “So you didn’t, like, see a counselor or anything? I thought everybody in L.A. was all about their therapists.”

  “Nope. That’s New York.”

  She laughed. “Okay. I stand corrected.”

  “I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to forget,” I said. So why was I opening my mouth now?

  “It seems like a tough thing to forget.”

  “It’s impossible.” Jer’s dead gaze would be emblazoned on my brain for the rest of my life.

  “You want to tell me?” Her voice sounded too even, like she was trying to keep the expression, the feeling, out of it.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “Okay.”

  I looked across her, out the window. The snow still came down with pitiless intensity. I’d been in the mountains before, been to plenty of ski resorts, but I’d never seen a snowstorm like this one. We were going to have to dig ourselves out once it quit.

  The snow made everything so quiet. Muted. Even the crackle of the fire in the kitchen stove seemed like its volume had been turned down. Like it was waiting for me to say something.

  “He was in the tub.”

  “Jeremy?” she said.

  “Yeah. That’s where I found him.” Jesus. I needed to keep my mouth shut, but it kept on moving, making words, in spite of my better judgment. “He’d been drinking Scotch. And there was a syringe in his arm.”

  “Shit.”

  “And some pills on the counter. The docs said there were a whole bunch of different drugs in his system.” I didn’t want to look at her, but my gaze made it over to her anyway. There wasn’t any pity in her eyes. Just ... something else. Something I wasn’t sure I could put a name to. “He was already cold. I touched him and his skin felt cold. His lips were blue. But his eyes were still open. It was really bizarre.”

  Yeah. Bizarre couldn’t even touch how weird the scene had been.

  “I’m so sorry, Gage.” The strange thing was, she sounded like she meant it.

  “Me too.”

  “Was that what you meant
when you said you had some not-so-good friends?”

  I shot her another wary glance. “Sort of. More the other ones, the people we used to hang around with.”

  “Like at the party? The one before you fell in the water?”

  “Yeah. Like that.” I’d made some boneheaded decisions in my life, mainly hanging around with the wrong people. And that was changing, as of now. I needed more people like Nova.

  Jesus. What the hell was I thinking? More people like Nova would only mean good people getting hurt because of me.

  I didn’t deserve her, or anyone like her. My fame, my whole career, had been bought for me. Nothing I had was really mine; none of it was legitimate. The supernatural protection I’d had may have even cost my friend his life—at the very least, it had made him vulnerable to the pedophilic assholes who couldn’t get me because of The Deal.

  If I hadn’t had The Deal hanging over me, protecting me, I would have been a target of the pedophiles in the business. I would have drawn attention away from Jeremy, at least to some degree. So he’d been molested and abused because of me.

  It’s not that I wished I’d been molested. Who would want something like that? Hell, no. But I’d had an unfair advantage over Jeremy. I hadn’t deserved the extra protection I’d received. I got it through my mother’s nefarious occult dealings. And that made it wrong.

  Jeremy had suffered molestation because of me. He’d turned to drugs because of the molestation. And the drugs had killed him. Didn’t that make me responsible, at least in part, for his death?

  “Do you suppose they’re looking for you?” Nova said, looking vaguely worried. “They must be wondering what happened to you. Maybe people think you’re dead.”

  “Maybe they do.” Right now I couldn’t give a damn.

  “I wish we had some way to call somebody. Let them know where you are.”

  I shook my head. “I think it’s better this way. If people knew where I am, we’d be inundated with press. With fans. It would turn your cabin into a circus.”

  “Really? You think so?”

  “Yep.”

  “They’d have trouble getting up here in this.” She waved her hand in the direction of the window.

  “True. But we don’t have a working phone, so it’s a moot point.”

  Nova’s face suddenly contorted. She pressed a hand to her belly. “I—uh—I’ve gotta go.” She bolted from the couch and staggered down the hall toward the bathroom.

  Chapter 19

  Shame

  Nova:

  Gage wasn’t playing the guitar anymore. Everything was embarrassingly silent as I locked myself into the bathroom. Yesterday, he’d been the one suffering through this and I’d been the one on the outside. Now our positions were reversed.

  I thought I’d been pretty cool about how sick he was. I thought I’d kept a polite distance. Now I understood that I’d been wrong. There couldn’t be enough distance when something this mortifying was going on.

  Stomach flu was the absolute worst thing ever. It should be outlawed. Nobody should have to go through this, and especially not when the world’s most beautiful guy was right down the hall. If my mom had been here to help me, I wouldn’t be ashamed. But with Gage ... it wasn’t right. I didn’t want him to know this was happening to me.

  And he must have felt the same way when it was happening to him. No wonder he’d been so grouchy.

  But what could we do? We both needed to stay in the cabin because of the storm. We were stuck together, mortifying illness or not. I guess we’d both have to pretend we didn’t know or care what was going on. Or something.

  Hey, you should feel privileged. Most people don’t get to see Gage Dalton when he’s sick.

  Yeah. Yay, me.

  He was an amazingly decent guy, once you got past the arrogant exterior. He’d been really sweet this morning, for example, so maybe I should feel privileged. I had the sense that he didn’t show this side of himself to many people.

  I finished up and hobbled back to the living room. He was picking out a tune on the guitar, humming softly to himself. He looked up and smiled at me as I made my way back to the couch and my heart fluttered helplessly.

  He had the most stunning smile I’d ever seen. How did the women in his life stand it? The power of it was like, I don’t know, almost like some kind of weapon. A weapon of pure male sexiness, to be deployed only with great care.

  He set the guitar to the side and got up, stalking over to me with animal grace I hadn’t seen in him until now. He’d probably been too sick before. Now all I could do was stare up at him as he prowled toward me. My heart was racing by this time.

  What was he going to do? Would he sit with me? Did I want him to sit with me? I was still reeling from my bathroom embarrassment.

  Yeah, I wanted him to sit with me. Maybe he’d hold my hand and comfort me. A girl could hope.

  Gage reached for the side table and snagged my empty water glass. “I’ll get you a refill.”

  I deflated as I watched him take the glass into the kitchen. He didn’t feel the same way about me as I felt about him. That was clear. And why should he? I looked and probably smelled like a mess. Even on my best day, I was nowhere near his league.

  A couple of minutes later, Gage came back with the glass. I put on my poker face. I wasn’t going to let him know how much I liked him, how much I wanted him even when he needed a shower and was wearing my dad’s old, faded black sweatpants and t-shirt.

  They were too small for Gage, by the way. Like at least two sizes. Snug, that’s what they were. It was a good look for him.

  Poker face, Nova.

  I looked out the window. As if I cared what the weather was doing. Please. I already knew it was still snowing and at this rate we’d be leaving via the upstairs windows when the storm was over.

  The couch wiggled slightly. I froze for an instant as my heart zoomed out of control. He was sitting next to me. I could feel the press of his ass—hips, I mean hips—against my thighs.

  There went the poker face.

  “You need to drink some more,” he said, sounding all concerned and caring.

  I made myself look at him, smile like a normal person, and take the glass. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yeah, I do. I owe you more than I could ever repay. So drink up.” He gave me a stern look that I was pretty sure was fake.

  I drank a tiny bit, just to please him, and sure enough I was rewarded with a smile. He was going to make me pass out if he kept looking at me that way.

  It’s not real. It’s not real.

  I needed to keep chanting that to myself, like a mantra. Maybe I’d become enlightened. Maybe not, but at least I wouldn’t lose my heart to someone I had zero chance of keeping.

  “Do you think you could eat something?” he said.

  “Uh uh. No way. Don’t even go there.”

  “Okay. Just thought I’d ask.”

  I managed another sip. “I’ve been wondering why nobody came around looking for you the day of your accident. I mean, this cabin is off the main road, but it’s not totally hidden.”

  He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. And I parked my car off the road where it probably wouldn’t be seen.”

  “Where was that?”

  “The Mountain Magic Lodge and Cabins.”

  “Oh, that place. It went out of business this year. Why did you park there?” I didn’t need to know, but I was curious.

  “I saw the sign and thought they might have food. Then I got out to take a piss and like an idiot I fell in the water. The bank gave way.”

  “And you were alone?” I said, thinking of Blondie.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  I stared at the water glass. “This weird thing happened right before I found you. A guy came to my door. He told me his friend had fallen in the water and I needed to help him get you out. But when I went down to the river, he sort of disappeared.”

  Gage’s gaze b
ecame disturbingly intent. “He disappeared? What do you mean?”

  “I thought he was behind me. You know, following me down to the water? I asked him to help me pull you out, and when I turned around he was gone.”

  “Could he have walked away?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. It was snowing, but he didn’t leave any tracks. Besides, how would he know you were in the water if you were alone when you fell in? And he called you a friend. More than once.”

  He twisted his body so he faced me more fully. “What did he look like?”

  “Tall. Skinny and blond. Long hair.”

  Gage went pale. “As tall as me? Hair down to his shoulders?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That sounds like Jeremy.” He rubbed his face. “Holy shit. I think you saw a ghost.”

  I thought back to the encounter. “You know, I noticed at the time that it was sleeting pretty hard but his hair wasn’t getting wet. I thought it was odd.”

  He blinked rapidly and his mouth twisted. “Damn it,” he said, his voice rough.

  Without thinking, I reached out and laid my hand over his. It wasn’t something I’d normally do with a guy I’d only met a couple days before, and as soon as our skin touched I blushed. But this was Gage—not the movie star but the guy I’d pulled from the river, the guy whose clothes I’d cut off, the guy I’d held naked just to keep him from dying.

  Hand holding wasn’t such a big thing next to all that.

  His long fingers curled around mine. “He saved me. And I couldn’t save him. Why didn’t he just let me go?”

  For an instant, I had no idea what to say. He really thought his best friend should have let him die?

  “He obviously cared a lot about you,” I managed.

  Gage snorted. I didn’t like the way he looked. Almost angry, as if he hated himself or something.

  “Hey,” I said. “What’s that about?”

  He shook his head without speaking.

  “I’m glad he came to me,” I said.

  Still, he gave me nothing.

  I squeezed his hand. “Gage, are you okay? You’re starting to worry me.”

  “No.” He frowned. “Don’t worry about me.” He turned a troubled gaze to me. “I don’t want you to ever worry about me, okay?”