Tulsa

by S. L. Scott

  “Do you think we should tell Laird now or after the tour?”

  “I think you should tell him. He’s not a bad guy. He’ll just be worried about his sister.” He leans forward. “But here’s the thing, Tulsa. You’re not a bad guy either. You played into a narrative you thought worked, and it did for a while. Now you’re rewriting your story. Don’t let anyone hold some bullshit image of you over your head. Remember who you are on the inside when the rest of the world is determined to define your character.”

  “I’m a Crow.”

  “Damn straight.” He reaches out, and we do our bro shake. It’s good to see him smile. I know being away from his son and wife takes a toll. Fuck, Nikki’s only been gone ten minutes, and I’ve looked for her twice in the last two, missing her already.

  “Have you decided on a name for the baby?”

  “Hannah sent me the short list a few minutes ago. I’m okay with whatever she wants. I just want her and the baby to be healthy.”

  “I know I’ve said it before, but I’m happy for you, Jet. You deserve a good life.”

  “Don’t get sappy on me, Tuls. I’m a little more emotional these days. I think it’s the gravity of everything. I said you’re an adult, but then I wonder what that makes me if my baby brother is married and all grown up. You might be having kids soon, or not.” He shrugs. “But you could. That blows my mind. Sometimes I still see that fifteen-year-old kid who had to leave through the back door of a bar as soon as we were finished playing. Or when you were ten and followed me everywhere, pestering me.”

  “I was a brat.”

  “You weren’t. I’d look back sometimes, and if you weren’t there, I’d be disappointed. Now Rivers, on the other hand,” he jokes and laughs.

  “He used to be so happy-go-lucky.” Thinking back to the advice he’s given recently, I add, “He misses her.”

  Jet knows whom I’m talking about. We all miss her. “I don’t say her name around him anymore.”

  “Best not.”

  “When we move to LA, I’m not sure if he’s coming or staying. What about you?”

  “Nikki’s in LA. With you and the family there, there’s no reason for me to stay in Austin. But like you, I worry about Rivers. I’m not sure where he is with things. I think he’s either going to make a play to get her back or move to LA and put the past to bed once and for all.”

  “I don’t know what he should do. My head says one thing, but I don’t know where her heart lies. Changing subjects. What happened with Berk?”

  “I told him to fuck off. Nothing about him feels right. I have the image of that photo stuck in my head, but I don’t feel like he’s my father.”

  “He sure acted like it—taking off just like Shep did.”

  Sitting back, I stretch my legs out. “Shep never came back around, though.”

  “Don’t jinx us, man.”

  Nikki arrives with a bag hanging from her wrist. “I got you a bottle of water and a turkey sandwich. The convenience store was the only place with a line shorter than a mile.”

  “Thanks, baby.” I say it so naturally, the days here in Austin making me more comfortable than they should since we’re going back into hiding our relationship status from the world.

  Rivers sits down next to Jet, and Dave takes the seat on the other side of me. It’s more obvious who we are when we’re together. People are definitely beginning to take notice. Rivers says, “I miss that jet.”

  We get to travel on the private jet when we’re with The Resistance. We get first class when we travel without them. It’s a luxury, of course, but it doesn’t keep the prying eyes off us, or the fans from approaching us, wanting an autograph or a photo.

  Nikki’s approached from the side by two girls who look safe enough. High schoolers if I had to guess.

  My protective hackles lower, and I let Nikki handle it. She signs autographs and then asks Rivers to take their picture with her. Jet, Dave, and I might be laughing our asses off on the inside but hold it in until the girls walk away, teasing him. “Can you carry my guitar while you’re at it?” Jet jokes.

  Rivers laughs. “I don’t mind being Nikki’s lackey. As for you guys, fuck off.”

  Laird is checking in when we arrive at the hotel. Nikki taps him on the shoulder with a big smile and bright eyes. When he sees her, his expression mirrors hers. I watch from a distance, letting them reunite without having to be in the middle.

  I can’t hear what they’re talking about, but I see her raise her arms in the air, telling him some story that makes him laugh. I don’t want to ruin their relationship, but I can’t help but want him to know about us, to support us, and be happy for us. I’m not sure how he’ll react. If I believe what everyone has told me about how well Laird will take the news, he won’t be happy. For Nikki’s sake, I hope they’re wrong. Like Jet said, we’ve gone and done it, so however he reacts won’t change the outcome. It’s better to accept the facts than the alternative.

  Hotel key in hand, Laird comes over to us and shakes our hands. I’m the last in the lineup. He stops, shaking mine with suspicion in his eyes. Does he know? But then he crosses his arms over his chest and makes small talk about the weather here in Chicago compared to La Jolla, where he caught a few waves on his days off.

  Nikki’s checking in, but I see her glancing over with twisted lips and a look of worry on her face. When Laird starts talking again, I turn my attention back to him. “When you come out to California, we can do a little surfing.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “I did some thinking while I was on the water. When I’m in the ocean, I’m Zen. It clears my head and allows me to see what matters. So, there I was, floating in the Pacific, thinking about my sister. I missed her. We fight sometimes, but she’s one of my best friends.”

  I pat his back. “You should tell her that.”

  He looks back at her, but she doesn’t see him. “I will.” He looks around, and when he seems satisfied we can speak privately, he moves away from the group. I follow and turn toward him, which puts my back to them. “Tulsa, let me ask you something.”

  “All right.”

  “I don’t know what this Austin trip was really about. It wasn’t about Jet, and from the little I’ve gotten to know Rivers, I don’t think it was about him. Dave . . . I’m not sure what his deal is. Nice enough. Minds his own business. Great guitarist. Doesn’t seem to show much interest in Nikki other than as a friend as far as I’ve seen. But you. Are you playing a long game when it comes to her?”

  “I’m not playing any games when it comes to Nikki.” I see her coming toward us out of the corner of my eyes.

  “Just checking.”

  He turns to Nikki and asks her if she’s ready to go to her room. As much as I’d like to think this conversation is over, I know it’s not. I reach for Nikki’s suitcase, but Laird blocks me and takes the handle. “I got it.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Turning to Nikki, I say, “I’ll see you later.”

  “I hope so. I’d like to finish what we started.”

  Laird asks, “What’s that?”

  “The song we’ve been working on.” She smirks. “What else would I be talking about?”

  My wife is a very bad girl. I’m going to have to punish her later, in the bedroom, for teasing me. Laird replies, “You are so weird.” They start walking, and I hear him talking about the song. “Are you going to keep me in suspense or play it for me?”

  “I’ll play it for you, but don’t say anything bad. It’s not finished, and I kind of love it too much to sacrifice it to criticism.”

  “I’ll go easy. Shane missed the flight. He’ll be in later. Want to have dinner?”

  Checking on me, she catches me watching her as she continues on. “Sure.”

  Dave comes up next to me and pops me on the arm. “Are you going to buy her a ring?”

  Eyeing him, I ask, “How’d you know we’re married?”

  He laughs at my oblivion. “That Laird doesn’t know boggles my min
d.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Get the woman a ring.”

  Skipping a bellhop, I grab my suitcase when Rivers holds up the room keys. “Our rooms are ready.”

  Nikki and Laird are gone from the bank of elevators when we arrive. Dave pushes the button and says, “Don’t you guys freak out a little every time we fly first class or check in at the VIP desk? A year ago, I was working the night shift at a recording studio, and now I’m checked in for a suite in a swanky hotel in Chicago, on tour with three amazing bands. Pop me a good one if I ever take it for granted.”

  “Happy to pop you anytime,” Rivers jokes. “It’s been a while since we were in a fight.”

  Thinking about my recent situation with the stun gun, I reply, “I’m good.”

  We laugh just as an elevator opens, and we all pile in. When the doors close, Jet says, “We have money now, but we all still drive our shitty cars and live in dumps. I’ve been a little distracted over the past year with the wedding and the baby and a new life with my son, but I want you guys to know I wouldn’t take this journey with anyone else. Bandmates. Brothers.

  “Dave.” He nudges him, and we all laugh. “You may be a Carson, but you’re still an honorary Crow.”

  Dave chuckles. “Does that mean I get a cool first name too? Dave feels a little bland next to Jet, Rivers, and Tulsa.”

  I ask, “Where were you conceived? That’s the trick of the Crow naming.”

  He looks grossed out. “Not something I want to think about, but my parents were a lot less adventurous than yours. Vanilla ice cream for dessert every night. Football on Sunday. Little League and the PTA. I’m pretty sure, knowing them, I was conceived as boringly as possible and in the house where I grew up in Austin.”

  Rivers asks, “What’s the name of the street?”

  “Ridgewood Road.”

  My brothers and I all make eye contact and then nod. Jet says, “Although Dave is fine, it’s very vanilla. I think we’ve got your new name.”

  “What?”

  I say, “Ridge.”

  “What? How does that make . . . Oh, Ridgewood Road?”

  We all nod just as the elevator doors open. Dragging our luggage out, Rivers starts handing out the keys when Dave says, “It’s not half bad.”

  Jet says, “Try it out for a day or two and let us know what you think.”

  “Will do.”

  “See you, Ridge,” I add just for fun.

  He says, “I know you’re just giving me a hard time, but I kind of like it.”

  Rivers opens the door to his room, which is next to mine, and says, “Ridge it is. Later, fuckers.”

  Jet goes inside his room, but I call down to Dave, “You don’t have to change your name for us. Dave is fine.”

  “I always wanted a nickname. Not sure if Ridge will stick, but we can give it a test drive. At least it has some meaning to it. Speaking of meaning, get the girl a ring.”

  “I want to, but she can’t wear it until we go public.”

  “Buy it for when you’re together. Even if she only wears it in private, she’ll like it. And while you’re at it, she’ll like it even more if you’re wearing one. Words are great, but symbols, like actions, are important. It’s a visual bond.” With his foot holding open his door, he asks, “Didn’t you ever give a girl a promise ring?”

  “Fuck, no. I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep.”

  He laughs. “You made her a promise.”

  “I made her a vow.” I push my door open and drag my suitcase inside, but before it closes, I say, “I’ll get her a ring and one for myself while I’m at it.”

  “Good decision.”

  “Thanks, Ridge.”

  I hear his laughter until it’s cut off by the door closing. I let mine swing closed and walk to the window to check out the view. The city. The river. The shining sun. If I could only share it with Nikki, it would feel complete.

  Dragging my phone from my pocket, I call the one person I know can help me make things right. When she answers, I reply, “Hey, Hannah, it’s Tulsa.”

  35

  Nikki

  We’ve been unusually quiet over dinner. Laird watches the game playing on the TV by the bar, and I keep checking my phone for I don’t know what.

  “Lauralee mentioned she came by the house,” I try to start a conversation I’m interested in to see if he’ll finish.

  “She and Mom hung out a bit in the kitchen.”

  “You didn’t hang out with her?”

  His gaze lands on me. “A little. Not much. Did you know she went on a date with Kater Strong?” Annoyance is heard when he spits Kater’s name.

  I shrug. “She failed to mention it. Must not have been worth talking about.”

  “He was an asshole in school, and he’s a bigger asshole now that he’s GM of his dad’s Jaguar dealership in Carlsbad.”

  Dropping my napkin on my plate, I rest my elbows on the table because I’m classy like that. “So, since Vegas, you two haven’t really talked?”

  “What’s there to talk about?”

  “Oh, I don’t know . . . maybe your undying love for her?” I smile, completely amused.

  “Undying love?” he scoffs. “Yeah, right. More like dying love.”

  “The operative word there is love.”

  He tosses his napkin onto his plate and laughs. “What do you know about love?”

  I try not to go ballistic on him or explain exactly what I know about love. I wonder if he’d even hear me anyway. “You’re right. I fucked up and thought I was in love once. I wasn’t. I was enamored by a lifestyle.” I hate admitting it, but there it is.

  I expect a barrage of questions, but he signs the check and then looks at me, really looks at me. To him, I’ve become a puzzle he’s struggling to figure out, a chess move he doesn’t know how to make. As if he’s carefully setting a landmine for me to step on, he lowers his voice and says, “I don’t hate Tulsa if that’s what you think.”

  Maybe my thoughts are transparent. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I think you might like him. More than, you know, as a friend.”

  We stand to leave at the same time, as we have probably done a thousand times before, but I know I need to answer his real question here. He does know me, and he knows me well. I love him too much to keep this from him any longer. As soon as we’re outside, I say, “I’m terrible at keeping this secret.”

  “What secret?”

  “I married him, Laird.”

  His eyes narrow like it’s bright as day out here when it’s already night. “What? Who?”

  “Tulsa. We got married in Vegas.”

  “Wait, I don’t understand. What do you mean you got married? I’m your twin. Why the fuck didn’t I know about this until now?”

  “We thought we could keep it a secret for the remainder of the tour, but we can’t, and frankly, I don’t want to. Not from you.”

  “I can’t believe you did this. How could you, Nik? You barely know him.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I love—”

  He scowls. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” He takes off running down the street toward the hotel.

  “Laird!” When I start to hurry after him, I’m reminded why I wear Converse on stage. These damn heels are useless. I want to take them off, but the streets are too dirty, so I rush but don’t run.

  There’s no reaction from him, so I don’t think he can hear me over the rush-hour traffic. I try calling him again, “Laird?”

  This time, he looks around and then back. When he sees me, I wave. “Wait. Please.” I run forward, stepping off the curb to cross an alley just as a car passes. I never see the next car, though, until I hear the tires screech, and then the sound of silence as I’m lifted from the ground. And then nothing . . .

  “I swear I’m fine.” My head hurts like hell, but I don’t want to worry Laird more than he already is. He’s already called in the cavalry—my parents—who are en route as w
e speak. Everything just got a whole lot more complicated.

  He’s been worrying his hands since I woke up—popping his knuckles and making fists. I know he’s beating himself up inside his head.

  The nurse refills my cup with water, and says, “You need to try to relax so you can recover.”

  “I’m fine. I really am. I’m ready to go.” I try to push up, but my head spins and waves pound down on my chest, so I sit back and take a breath.

  With a sympathetic smile, the nurse replies, “We need to wait for the results from the earlier tests to make sure you’ll be able to perform. But it seems you might be staying overnight as well.”

  “Perform? That’s tomorrow. Oh, gosh, I’ll be so fine, and I definitely don’t need to stay tonight.”

  “I’m sure you will be fine, but the doctor would like to clear you of any danger to be on the safe side.” She pats my leg and then disappears out the door, not giving me time to argue.

  The pain in my side is beginning to worsen. I imagine the drugs are wearing off. It’s been hours since we arrived, and I’m not only starving, but I want Tulsa to comfort me.

  I have to be careful. He’ll not only blame Laird, but he’ll never forgive him for making me chase him. I don’t want them feuding. I just need to figure out how to handle the situation, but, damn, my arm hurts. Laird stands at my side. “How are you really doing?”

  “I’ve been better,” I reply. I tried to be strong, but around my brother, all the emotions I was hiding from the nurse bubble up. “I’m sorry, Laird.”

  “For what?”

  “Everything.”

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I overreacted. I’m so sorry, Nikki. You’re here because of me.” From the way he looks away and exhales, I know he’s struggling, blaming himself.

  “You didn’t get me hit. I just didn’t see it coming.”