The first thing I did when I got home was pour myself another glass of whiskey and sink heavily onto the leather couch in my living room. It was the same couch that I used to have in my loft at my dad's house. The same couch that I'd spread Everly out on more than once. I closed my eyes against the torrent of memories, blindly grabbing the remote from the coffee table.
I needed a new fucking couch, but if I was being perfectly honest, there was a reason why I didn't go out and buy a new one. I could afford it; it wasn't a matter of money. I was afraid to replace the couch and lose the memories. As much as it pained me to think of her—and hell, as much as it held me back from moving forward—I couldn't imagine a world without her face, even if it was just in my memories.
And so, I held on to every last piece of her that I had. The truck. The bed. The fucking couch. It was pathetic, but that didn't stop me from doing it anyway.
The possibility that she was home sent me into a weird spiral. What I was doing to myself could basically be described as torture. I flicked through the DVR, finding the interview Rolling Stone had done with Everly a year ago. I was feeling sorry for myself. What better way to feel sorry for yourself than continuously replay all your fuck ups over and over again in your head while watching an interview of your ex-girlfriend, the one that got away...the one that you pushed away?
She looked the same as she did in high school... only not. Gone was the shy and reserved girl I knew, the girl who was too timid, the girl who didn't believe that she should stand out. The girl sitting down for the interview was sensual and confident, posed and collected. She also had massive tits and hips that I wanted to sink my teeth into. She'd filled out in those departments since high school, although she was still as lithe as she'd always been.
She shimmered like the star she was. She was the embodiment of what I had always known was beneath her shy exterior.
I didn't listen to the questions the interviewer asked; I just watched Everly's expressions as she laughed and smiled. I allowed myself an evening of being mesmerized by the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about her music, her passion. Her eyes used to sparkle like that for me.
I took another heady sip, my fractured heart aching to be put back together using the only remedy I had ever known—her.
Chapter Three
Everly
I PINNED UP MY ASH blonde hair, twisting the length of it into a French twist. I wore dainty pearl drop earrings in my earlobes. I stood back, staring at myself in the bathroom mirror and running my hands over the black lace of my dress. I didn't look like a woman who had spent the last four days crying every opportunity that I was alone. I looked like I was about to go out to another swanky album release event, not to my only sister's funeral.
My limbs felt weak, but I pressed on anyway, moving them when all I wanted to do was crawl under the blankets and wake up in my room in LA, to all of this being a terrible, horrible dream. It wasn't a dream, and I wasn't going to wake up from it.
I took a deep breath, attempting to prepare myself for the day, but I knew it was impossible. Burying a family member was never an easy thing, but it was exceptionally shitty when you were a goddamn A-lister that couldn't escape the media.
I couldn't believe that I'd only been back in town for three days, and within one day the tabloids had exploded with my face. Someone had snapped a photo of me at the airport, and the tabloids boasted that I'd returned home to mend my broken heart after catching Kyle with someone else.
Total bullshit, but I suppose it was better than the tabloids spilling the details of my family's private tragedy. Still, I was angry that I couldn't even get away to mourn.
We had purposely kept Julia’s name out of the newspaper obituary and the article detailing the accident. We’d started a rumor that the funeral would take place in Toronto, hoping to throw the paparazzi off the scent so the funeral wouldn’t be overrun with reporters. Instead, the funeral would be held in our tiny hometown.
I paused by my old bedroom door, spotting Cadence staring out the window. She was dressed in a black velvet dress, and her dark hair hung down her back in a tight French braid. She was clenching the purple bear, cradling it against the white cast on her arm.
"Are you ready Cadence?" I asked her, my voice hoarse from all the crying I'd done the night before.
Cadence didn't say anything; she just slowly slid off the bed and walked to me, her head down. I crouched down, picking her up in my arms. I held her close to me as we walked down the stairs.
Mom and Dad were waiting by the front door. They'd been giving me more and more time alone with Cadence. I was the only one that she'd let hold her when she woke up screaming and crying from the nightmares.
Cadence started to tremble as we approached the car.
"It'll be okay. I'm right here with you," I muttered to her gently, securing her in her booster seat.
The drive to the funeral home was short and silent. Conversation wasn't easily flowing for any of us. The parking lot was packed already. Julia had been a popular girl her whole life; it didn't surprise me that a lot of people had turned up to say goodbye to her.
I walked into the funeral home, Cadence's uninjured hand clinging to mine tightly like she never wanted to let go. I avoided going into the room where Julia's casket rested. We'd requested a closed casket ceremony, but I knew it was open so people could say their final goodbyes.
I closed my eyes against the intrusive thought of seeing my sister lying in her open casket. It wouldn't be her. She was gone. Just her body remained, and the difference would undoubtedly be noticeable. I didn't want to see her body, I wanted to see her...to talk to her.
Mom put her arm around my shoulders, pulling me tightly to her side as we joined my grandparents near the doorway to the room where Julia's casket rested. We greeted the visitors one by one as they came to give their condolences.
My bandmates and a few of my old friends joined the receiving line. Kyle Russell threw his arms around me, pulling me close. I shut my eyes against the familiar scent of him, tiny tears filling my eyes.
"Don't worry about a thing," he whispered, kissing me on the forehead. "I'll take care of it all." I nodded my thanks, unable to form words.
Marcus Muller hugged me next. "We love you, Ever," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. Aubrey stood beside him and she wordlessly took me in her arms again, whispering that she loved me too. Cam Roberts was next, and he gave me a pained smile as he hugged me. Cam was usually a talker, a joker, but when tragedy hit, he couldn't seem to form a sentence.
Cam moved on, and Alicia Garcia stepped up. I hadn’t exactly been the best friend in the world within the last five years— at least, not to Aubrey or Alicia. I still spoke to them, but I didn't make as much time as I should have. Aubrey had come out to shows and to visit us in LA because she was still in love with Marcus, although their relationship was complicated, so I'd seen her more often the last few years. Despite that, we still stayed in touch and I knew that Alicia was busy with her own life, working as an art therapist and seeing a nice girl named Mandy.
Alicia had come by with Aubrey a few times after learning about the accident, helping any way that she could. She released me, unable to speak, her brown eyes full of sadness for me. There wasn't anything that she could say anyway. The fact that she was there was enough.
"I'll see you in a bit," Alicia finally said, her voice strained.
After Alicia came Maddie Markham, my personal assistant. Her long dark hair was pulled up into a trendy bun, and her sharp bangs cut across her forehead. She pushed her glasses up on her nose before pulling me in for a massive hug.
Maddie was an incredible force when it came to chaos. She not only managed my schedule, but also handled pretty much all of the other details of my life. She found the best outfits for red carpet events, managed the guys and helped run interference with our jackass agent.
"I'm sorry I didn't call you," I told her.
"Don't," Maddie warned sternly. She pulled away enough to stare
at me. "I have to leave right after the funeral to catch my plane, but I wanted to tell you that everything is taken care of. Take as much time as you need. Call me and keep me updated but don't worry about anything except what's happening with your family, okay?" Sincerity filled Maddie's soft hazel eyes. I nodded gratefully and bit my lip. She hugged me again before moving on.
A couple more of Julia's friends and co-workers stepped up to give their condolences and the line kept moving. Panic was beginning to swell in my chest. The air felt stifling, and I needed to break away from this room full of people before it consumed me and I broke down. Before I could snag Cadence and escape, a voice that I hadn't heard in many years stilled me.
"Everly." I turned, noticing the golden mane first before Lindsay's arms wrapped around me. She pulled me to her. "I'm so sorry for your loss."
"Thanks," I murmured in response, my body rigid. I hadn't spoken to Lindsay Little since high school—since the whole Alicia thing. She hadn't changed much, I realized when she pulled away. She was fashionably put together and as thin as ever, but she carried herself with a defeated set to her shoulders. I finally met her gaze to see that her eyes were full of sorrow and regret.
Lindsay looked as if she had more to say; her mouth opened and closed before she gave me a small smile. "I'll see you later," she said instead, looking at the line behind her. Her gaze flitted down to Cadence.
My heart pounded in my chest as she looked at Cadence for a moment, giving her a tiny smile. I could tell that Lindsay wanted to say something comforting to Cadence, but that she didn't know what to say. Instead, she looked back up at me. "Let me know if you need anything... anything at all. I'd be happy to help anyway I can."
"Thank you," I said, watching as she disappeared into the crowd.
I picked Cadence up in my arms, just needing to hold her. I still felt like a funeral was too much for a four-year-old—hell, it was too much for me, but at the same time, how could she miss it?
"Are you thirsty?" I asked her. She nodded solemnly against my chest. There was a water cooler in one of the sitting rooms. I'd seen it when we first walked in. I put Cadence down in front of the cooler and grabbed a paper cup from the dispenser. "Do you want to press the button?"
She nodded timidly, pressing the button quickly while I held the plastic cup under the nozzle. "You have to press and hold," I instructed gently. Cadence tried again, this time she kept her finger on the button. "Okay, that's enough," I warned as the cup started to overflow. Cadence removed her finger soundlessly. I took her hand and we walked to one of the empty sofas.
I spoke softly to her and stroked the soft hair on her head while she sipped at her water. I glanced up, watching as Aubrey and Alicia walked into the sitting room. They had both been so much help in the last four days, keeping Cadence busy while my parents and I tried to sort out the funeral and burial arrangements, plus being there for me. We'd spent the night before sitting in the living room after Cadence had gone to bed, drinking wine and relaying stories of Julia from back in the day.
Although talking about Julia had been incredibly painful, I needed to do it.
"Lindsay's here," I remarked, tilting my head. Aubrey nodded, giving me a small smile.
"I know, we just spoke to her." Alicia didn't look upset or tense to receive a blast from the past. She was obviously over the burn.
I wished I could say the same about myself. I swallowed hard, my eyes roaming to Cadence's face before I spoke. "Do you guys talk to her often?" I asked.
"We see her around town now and again. She works at the restaurant," Aubrey said. Aubrey's parents owned a successful restaurant downtown. It was one of the best local places to go. Not only was the food incredible, but the service was too. The employees and the customers all had that small town friendliness that you definitely didn't see in LA.
The funeral director, Bonnie Strong, poked her head into the room. Bonnie's eyes were red-rimmed too. She'd gone to school with my mom and they had remained close friends into their adulthood. Bonnie babysat us when we were little. She didn't have kids of her own, and used to joke that we were the closest she would ever get to experiencing parenting. I was surprised to see that she was directing the funeral, but also happy. I couldn't imagine a stranger handling this. "Are you ready?" she asked, looking at me as if she knew the answer.
No, I wasn't. I would never be ready.
My parents had asked me if I would do the honors of singing "Hallelujah" at the beginning of the ceremony before they gave their speech. I hadn't wanted to say no to them, but singing was the furthest thing from my mind. Julia had always loved to hear me sing, so I agreed to do it anyway. It was the perfect tribute for my sister, and I hoped it would bring my parents some kind of peace.
I stood up and took Cadence's hand, walking her toward Aubrey and Alicia. "Can you stay with Aubrey and Alicia?" Cadence nodded solemnly, taking Aubrey's offered hand.
Bonnie led me to the podium that my parents and grandparents were standing beside and adjusted the microphone for me. I took a deep breath, my eyes seeking out and finding those familiar ice blue eyes from my past. The room was full of people I recognized. Growing up in a small town meant you grew up with everyone; you knew them and you didn’t forget their faces.
I couldn't lie to myself. I knew that I was looking for one face in particular. Even as my heart stopped in my chest, I drew strength from those eyes. I took another deep breath before I started to sing.
I made it through most of the song before the tears welled up in my eyes. The final chorus was what tore me up.
"I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the lord of song
With nothing on my tongue but hallelujah!"
Finally, the last Hallelujah fell from my lips along with a couple of tears. My voice had wavered one too many times with emotion, but nobody seemed bothered by it. The silence of the room was broken every so often by the sniffling or quiet sobbing of our friends and family. I looked away from the grief reflecting within those intense blue eyes, my chest rising and falling as I struggled to breathe against the emotions crushing me.
***
After the funeral service, we returned to my parents’ house for the wake. The house was packed full of people. So many clammy hands reaching out to clasp mine, so many lips whispering condolences and apologizes, talking about Julia like she was a saint.
It's an angering thing, having people tell you just how remarkable your sister was. I already knew that. Julia had loved fiercely, fought fiercer, and made sacrifices that most people her age wouldn't have considered making.
She had given up her college party lifestyle to raise a baby.
I grabbed a flute of champagne off the counter and tossed it back, not prepared to think about any of that. I had no idea why my grandparents had decided that champagne was an appropriate post-funeral drink, but I wasn't going to argue with them. I'd already pissed them off enough. The scowls they sent in my direction were not lost on my numb eyes. Besides, the champagne was helping to take the edge off the pain. I tossed back another one, and went to grab a third when the sound of quiet footfall alerted me to the arrival of Aubrey and Cadence.
"She doesn't want to be here," Aubrey told me, arching a brow at me and tightening her lips with sadness. That makes two of us, I thought.
"Okay, let's go then," I told Cadence, setting the full champagne flute down on the counter beside the two empty ones and extending my hand to her. She gave me a small smile and took it. "We'll just be upstairs, if Mom or Dad ask."
Aubrey nodded, giving me a sad smile as I led Cadence up the stairs.
It was quieter in the bedroom. I lay down on top of the lilac comforter, motioning for Cadence to join me. She crawled up beside me and nuzzled into my arm. "I miss Mommy. Could you tell me another story about
her?" she asked, looking up at me with her wide eyes.
My heart felt lodged in my throat as I looked into Cadence's ice blue eyes. I swallowed hard as the memories resurfaced, smiling at her. Being around Cadence was the best and the worst thing. She resembled two people that I had loved and lost.
"Sure, my rhythm," I told her, stroking her dark hair. "When we were kids..." My voice got stuck on the lump in my throat. I cleared my throat, racking my brain to think of one story to share with her. There were so many to choose from, anecdotes of our childhood together. I started to tell her about the time Papa built the tree-house for us, and how we'd spend almost all of our time in it, coloring and playing together. I told her about how I'd fallen out of it and broken my arm, and how Julia had run inside crying worse than I had at the time. She had always hated seeing me in pain, even if we had drifted off when we were teenagers.
By the time I finished with my story, Cadence was fast asleep. I slipped out from under her, tucking an extra blanket over her sleeping body and adjusting the purple bear in her arms.
I crept out of the bedroom, remembering where the creaky parts of the floor were, and closed the door slowly and gently behind me. I turned around, mentally preparing myself to go downstairs.
Voices drifted up the stairwell. Mostly everyone that remained at the Daniels' house was family or close friends. I could hear my parents in the kitchen, talking softly as the fragrance of fresh coffee wafted out.
I spotted Kyle, Marcus and Cam lingering in the living room, waiting for me with Aubrey and Alicia. I walked up as Kyle stepped forward, his brow knitted together with concern. He wordlessly put his arms around me, pulling me to him.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, resting my head against his shoulder and drawing in his clean scent of comfort.
The tabloids liked to print breaking news stories about me and Kyle. They liked to flip images of me so that the ring I wore on my right ring finger appeared to be on my left hand and insist that Kyle and I were engaged.
It wasn't true, though—the engagement thing. Kyle and I were just friends, bandmates. He'd been a very big part of my life for five years now. He knew my secrets, and he covered my back to help me hide them, but we were not together.
Reckless Abandon (Damaged #2) Page 3