by Anne Mercier
"What about Dante? Carter? Who else was there?" he asks.
"You don't have the right to know. I kept my life as private as I could. You flaunted yours. You knew I'd see, but you either didn't care, or you did it on purpose to hurt me. Which was it?" I yell.
"Depended on the day. Some days I wanted you to hurt like I did. Some days I didn't want to think of you at all. It was easier to not think of you. But that didn't work out so well," he admits.
"Yeah. Imagine that. It went both ways, Xan. I didn't purposefully pose with Dante for photos. They were at my shows. I can't control which photos the press chooses to release."
"But you were fucking him."
"I was."
"How long?"
I lift a shoulder. "Six months?"
"Fuck me. Six months. Is it serious?"
"No. It wasn't. I'm not seeing him anymore, and I know you don't want to know this, but when I was with Dante, it was good for me. Not the fucking part, though that did heal a part of me, too. He's a good guy. He knew everything about you and me and never once did he expect more than no-strings. He knew it was going nowhere," I answer.
He nods and swallows hard. "Hearing that you really did fuck him—that sucks so bad."
"As opposed to seeing it?" I bite back.
He winces then nods. "You're right."
"And I didn't fuck fifty different people in the last few years."
"It wasn't anywhere near fifty," he replies, then realizes what he's said.
"Forty-nine?"
He scowls. "I don't know."
"Not so nice, right?"
"No, not so nice." He stands up, running his fingers through his long dark curls and then he tugs. "Fuck. How did everything get so screwed up, T?"
He paces the floor, and I sit in the rocking chair.
"Tera," he says, drawing in my attention. "I'm sorry. For all of that. For not being there. For hurting you. For not understanding what you needed when you needed it even though you told me time and time again."
"Wait. Stop." I tell him, knowing I need to address more than just Xan. "I need to say something, but I need to say it to all of you at once."
"Everyone is at the house. Let me call Jesse."
Jesse gets everyone into one room, and I let out a steadying breath.
"Guys."
"Tera!" they all greet.
"Uh, dudes. Not the time for that," Xan informs them. "She's got something to say to all of us.
"Okay," Jesse replies. "We're listening."
"This is going to be loud, and it might be ugly, but I need to get this out," I warn.
"Okay," echoes back to me through the phone.
I look at Xander from where I'm rocking, then the phone. I can't stand it. I burst from the chair. "I am so fucking mad and disappointed and resentful. You always chose the band over me. That night was my night! It was the equivalent of your winning the show and the contract with Nichols Records. It was my. Night. And you weren’t there. None of you were there. Maybe if you'd been there, none of this would be happening. Maybe, if just once you felt as happy for me as I always do for you, maybe if just once you'd put me first as I always do for you, I wouldn't be so fucked up now. Maybe I wouldn't be so angry at you all."
"I need you to know. I used to blame you. All of you. I used to think it was your fault I got attacked. I resented your success with the band because I always came second to it. Always. I'm supposed to be your sister, your wife. How can you say you care about me when you never, not once, thought of putting me first? You all broke my heart. They may have broken my body and my spirit, but you all broke my heart."
"And then you did it again when the band, once again, pushed me back to second place. That night you celebrated that you'd hit number one. You could have done it behind closed doors, but you didn't. You didn't care enough about my feelings to do that for me. You have no idea what it's like to live in a fucking tin can, never being able to leave, and then never having your family around to rely on. Not once did any of you, besides Ethan, attend one of my shows. Not once. Imagine how you'd feel if I never went to the taping of the TV show, if I hadn't been there the night you won, if I hadn't been so understanding when you went on tour leaving me behind not once but twice my senior year of high school, and then leaving me behind to live in this box. You celebrated hitting number one, your fans celebrating with you, having the time of your life while I was here losing your baby!"
I gasp and cover my mouth.
Silence. Complete silence.
Xander's face shows shock—grief, when he whispers, "What?"
"Oh, God. I didn't mean," I sob, "I didn't mean to tell you like that."
"Holy fuck," Jesse mutters.
"You had a miscarriage?" Kennedy asks.
Tears stream down Xander's cheeks. "That night?" he whispers again.
I nod, then move to the sofa and curl up in a ball.
"Jesus," Ben says quietly.
Xander comes to me, dropping to his knees and resting his head where our baby would have been.
"No. That can't be."
"It's true," Linc tells Xan.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.
I push him away. "Are you kidding? I always think of you first. Always. But you all never do! You didn't show up! And they… they beat me, they raped me, they assaulted me in ways I never imagined a person could! Where were you?"
"Then you hit number one, and it's all about you again. You partied it up—didn't once think about what 'letting your guard down' would mean to me. It was all about you, you, you! Every fucking one of you! You're supposed to be my family, my protectors, but this is twice you all chose the band over me and twice something devastating happened to me!"
The rage has set in, and it's deadly. I want to hit, tear, maim, and shred.
"How can I trust you? How can I depend on you, any of you, when I am constantly coming in second? Huh? Answer me that!"
I let out a ravaged scream just before I pick up a vase and hurl it across the room hitting the wall, the vase shattering on impact. I grab and throw, grab and throw, sobbing and screaming. I'm so angry. I reach for something else to throw, but there's nothing left on the shelf.
I stand there, breathing hard from exertion and emotion, fisted hands at my sides, the anger slowly fading. I don't see anyone or anything. I am in my own bubble, and in here I purge. I purge all of it. Anger, hate, resentment, hurt, angst, grief, disappointment…
"How could you do that to me!" I ask quietly. "How could you…?"
Now, I lose it. I sob. I sob so hard my entire body shakes.
The white-hot rage has turned to complete and utter devastation.
14
JESSE
I look at the guys then hang my head. I can't believe …
"Christ, we fucked up," I tell them soft enough that Tera can't hear.
Kennedy's silent but his eyes are wet with tears, his expression one of shame. It mirrors Ethan's.
Ben's pulling at his hair.
I swallow hard. This is on me.
"Tera?" I say softly, my voice cracking. It's all I can do not to either break down and bawl like a baby or punch a hole in the fucking wall.
She sniffles. "Yeah?" It comes out a squeak.
I close my eyes. Anguish and shame fill me.
"I am so fucking sorry. I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am you lost the baby and that we weren't there for you. I wish you'd have told at least me when we came that day, but I understand why you didn't."
I clear my throat.
"The baby, it would've been all of ours, you know? You and Xander may have created it, but we'd have raised it as if it were our own. That's how it will always be."
"I know we were selfish and self-centered and a bunch of fucking assholes. We're all sorry for that too."
All the guys sound off their agreement.
"I want to thank you for being so honest, T. Everything you said just now, it was the truth. You emptied all your emotion
s, laid them bare for us to see, said everything you needed us to hear, and you were right. All of it. If we'd been there, if we'd thought of you and insisted on being there for you in LA, you wouldn't have been attacked. There are no words to tell you how sorry I am for that—how sorry we all are."
Ben clears his throat. "I've known it since it happened—that it was our fault. I can't stop seeing you lying in that hospital bed, so broken and scared. All the booze and weed in the world can't rid me of that memory and the self-contempt I feel every single day. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry we didn't honor our promise and that you had to go through losing the baby without us. What I hate most is that you couldn't tell any of us until now. What can I do to help, Tera? What do you need? Anything, please, just don't hate me."
He said that way better than I could.
"Please don't hate any of us," I beg. "Please don't leave us again. Don't leave me. We need you. You're our sister, and I promise we'll never take that for granted again. Ever," I vow.
Tera sniffles again. "I'm not going to tell you it's okay. It's not. I think today will go a long way toward helping me heal so I can forgive you. You know that all of us thinking we could change anything in the past is ridiculous, right? There's no going back. Fate had it planned out for us like this. I had to go through everything for some unknown reason. Maybe one day I'll figure it out, maybe I won't, but you are my brothers, and I can't live without you either."
"Thank you, sweet Jesus," Kennedy murmurs.
"It's going to take me some time, some more therapy before there'll be any semblance of normal. I hope you understand that. It's not as easy as 'I'm sorry'."
"Tera, we know. We understand. If you need us there for therapy, we're there. We'll do whatever it takes to be there for you. You are more important than the band," I confess. "I got caught up in the glam and glitz, fame and chicks. I hate that you went through all of this and didn't feel you could rely on us. That will never happen again, little sister. I promise you—and these are promises that will not be broken. These are blood oath promises from your big brothers."
All the guys murmur their agreement.
"We fucked up, T. I fucked up. I'm bound to do it again, but please know I am really so sorry. I would never intentionally hurt you. You are family to me. You know that, right?" I ask, hoarsely.
I'm met with silence.
"She's nodding," Lincoln says aloud.
I breathe out the breath I'd been holding.
Apologies come one after the other. Ben. Kennedy. Ethan.
"Thank you," she sniffles, her voice thick with tears. "I don't want to keep resenting you and sometimes hating you. That's not me, and I don't want to let that darkness win."
"We won't let it," Ben tells her.
"Enough is enough," Kennedy adds. "You want some company?"
She laughs. "I'd love some."
"We'll be there tonight—" I cut Kennedy off.
I mouth, "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," Xander corrects.
"Yeah, right. Tomorrow. You two have a lot to talk about," Kennedy says.
"We do. We're getting there," Tera replies.
"Good," I tell her and couldn't mean anything more. "See you tomorrow afternoon, Mackenzies—and Linc."
"See you then," Tera replies.
When the call ends I run to the bathroom and vomit. When I can't throw up anymore, I stand on shaky legs in front of the mirror above the sink. I can't look at myself. I can't.
I rinse my mouth, then brush my teeth.
I still can't look.
I splash my face with cold water.
When I still can't look, I let the first tear of shame fall. Then come tears of regret.
Ethan knocks, and I turn to him.
"You okay, man?"
"No. So many wrong decisions, E. And they're all on me."
"Nah. If we didn't agree we would've spoken up. No one did."
I nod, watching the water run, swirl down the drain. I splash my face once more then turn the water off.
I force myself to look in the mirror. Who I see isn't the same guy who looked in the mirror this morning. I'm different, forever changed because of the consequences of my actions.
I slide my gaze to Ethan.
"This isn't going to happen again. To anyone. Ever. It's time we grow the fuck up and act responsibly. It isn't just us—it never was, and I hate that we lost sight of that," I confess.
"It's not gonna happen again," Ben tells me from where he stands behind Ethan.
"We learned a bitter lesson today. We almost lost our baby sister—as it is we lost our niece or nephew and Tera's been suffering in silence because she couldn't depend on us to be there for her," Kennedy reiterates. "That won't happen again on my watch."
"Mine either," Ethan agrees.
"Eyes wide open, boys," I tell them. I turn to face them. "Today we awoke from a dream life—one free of consequence. Today we took off the blinders. Today we see what we did. Today we see and know what we need to do next."
"Today we become men."
15
XANDER
The phone call ends, Linc leaves the room, and it's just Tera and me. I hold her on my lap, rocking in the chair, too afraid to let go.
All the things she said… I am such a bastard. I really don't deserve her.
I can't believe I fell for that "settled" bullshit. I should have known better. I should have known Tera better than that. I should have known us better than that.
"Tera… I know it's been said a million times today, but I am so god damn sorry. If you hadn't felt obligated to talk to me on the phone that night, you wouldn't have stayed behind, and you'd have been okay. But I was so fucking needy, missing you like crazy, wanting to hear everything I hadn't been there to experience with you. I should have just gone. I was on that stage in some dive venue, hammering away on the drums on instinct rather than the passion I usually play with, and it was all because I knew I should have been there. We all knew. We nearly took off before the show. When I got that call from the hospital…" my voice cracks and I bury my face in her neck as the tears fall.
"They didn't know if you'd make it. I thought I'd lost you and it would've been all my fucking fault. We couldn't get there fast enough. It seemed like forever, and when we got there, you were in surgery. The nurses could only tell us it was touch and go."
"Then Winters showed up with his dad. He was so pale, somber. He couldn't even talk. He just kept nodding or staring into space. When his dad told me you'd done a random dial and it was Carter, I understood why he was a zombie. How he held it together, T. I don't know. He is strong as all hell. I didn't know whether I should cry, find someone to beat the hell out of, or what… so I went and sat in the chapel until Dad got there," I confess. Tera looks at me in surprise.
"I know we've never been real religious, but in that moment I knew I needed help from a higher power and The Big Man was the only one listening, it seemed. I prayed. I prayed my ass off. I made deals that were insane, and I'm sure He gets that a lot, but I meant them. I'd have done anything, anything in that moment to trade places with you so you never knew a moment's pain or fear."
"But if wishes were dollars I'd be a millionaire… isn't that how it goes?" I'm rambling. She doesn't care. She's just listening, and she's calming down.
"When I saw…" my voice cracks again, so I clear my throat. "When I saw you in that bed, hooked up to all of those machines, so battered and bruised, and knowing you were assaulted," I sob, "I will never forgive myself for that. Never. Rationally I know it's no one's fault, it just happened, it was random, but I can't shake the feeling that the blame falls on my shoulders."
"Xan, I think you need some counseling, too. Earlier when I was pissed, I would have reveled in your guilt, but you shouldn't have lived with this for over five years. Xander, say you'll talk to someone. Please," she asks.
In this moment I'd give her the world if I could.
I nod. "I will. The guys need it too. We all know
the guilt is there. It's eating us alive. It's why Ben drinks like he does. It's why Jesse fucks every chick he can. It's why Kennedy never sets down his guitar—not even when he sleeps. It's why Ethan has been screwing and clinging to random chicks. It's why I keep self-destructing. We know. We welcomed it… until now."
"I think, maybe, that's why you kept me at arm's length. Don’t—" she says when I go to deny it. "It's not just you. It's all of you. I knew there was a reason. I just didn't know why."
I nod. "We need a really good fucking shrink, Tera."
She snickers. "Yeah, we do. Every single one of us."
"Why can't we all be like Linc and just get our aggression, guilt, and everything else out when we kick the shit out of someone in the ring?" I ask.
"Because you're all a bunch of pussies and would get your asses handed to you," Linc tells me from where he stands in the kitchen.
I didn't even see him walk in there.
"Likely, but the physical pain would be a welcomed respite from the emotional shit. This is some brutal hell we're living in," I confess.
"Welcome to my world," Tera tells me.
"I know," I tell her, looking into her beautiful brown eyes. "I would do anything to carry your burden, T. Anything. I can't stand that all of this happened to you. It hurts so much I ache with it. It frustrates the hell out of me."
She nods.
"Please, Tera, forgive me. Please. Maybe not today, but try? I don't ever want to be without you again. You are my world, and when you're not in it, I don't want to be there," I confess.
"Oh, Xan." She hugs me, and I hug her back, tight, holding on for dear life. "I'm working on it. I think this was a positive step, and one I've obviously needed for a long time."
Linc sweeps up more glass into the dustpan. "You think?"
She doesn't even look embarrassed nor should she.
"I think that was therapeutic for you, babe. Was it my face you were aiming at?" I ask.
Linc snorts. "More like your dick, you fucker."
Tera snorts in return. "I didn't see anything. Just red, then it turned white. It was like white-hot rage. It's not something I feel often."