CHAPTER TWENTY
Weston
It took everything in me not to grab Leah off that stage and pull her into the tiny closet-like area I came through when I first got here. She sang that song for me, I know it. I felt every syllable in my heart, like a jackhammer. It took my breath away. During the last line she had turned to me and smiled, running her fingers through her hair.
I was lost. Obliterated. I’ve turned into a big, giant, sappy pussy.
Just after Leah went off the stage to talk to Lucas and the other woman, my phone rang. It’s Andrew.
“Hey, buddy,” I answered.
“Weston? Where are you right now?”
“I’m with Leah at the studio. It’s on—”
He cuts me off. “We found Sara. Followed her. Can you get Leah back to the hotel maybe? This chick is acting real shady.”
A lump forms in my throat. “Yeah, I’ll take her.”
I hang up and look down at Lucas. Where is she? “Lucas, where’s Leah?” I ask.
“She had to use the restroom,” the woman beside him says.
Instant unadulterated panic sets into my skin. My eyes shoot around for Neil. I can’t see him either. Maybe he went with her. I scale the chairs and clamber through the make-shift closet into the hallway. Looking from door to door, searching for a bathroom.
Neil comes out of one.
“Oh, thank God. She still in there?”
“Who? Leah?” he asks, buckling his belt.
“Yes, Leah.”
“No,” he says, looking around. “She’s talking to Lucas.”
I almost sink to the floor. “No she’s not, Neil. No she’s fucking not! That other bitch said she went to use the bathroom.”
“Fuck, man! She’s not in there.” Neil pushes past me and starts flinging open doors. Calling Leah’s name…coming up empty.
I call Leah’s phone. Nothing. It just rings.
“It’s Leah! You know what to do…”
Beep.
“Leah, baby…where are you?”
Neil jogs back up the long hallway. “She’s not anywhere, man.”
“Pull the fucking fire alarm then. We have to find her.”
Neil goes back into the theater to tell Lucas that we can’t find Leah. Seconds later Lucas, Jett and Aaron rush into the hallway. Panic in their eyes as well. Lucas runs his hands through his hair. It makes me want to bounce his face off my knee. That fucker.
“Get Brent. Tell him we can’t find her,” Lucas tells Jett, who runs off down the hallway.
Neil glares at me. I glare back. He looks like he wants to punch me. I should probably let him. It’s my fault she’s gone. I should have went with her.
I call Andrew back. Giving him the address of the building. I need him here. Even though all the security in the area has come to find her. I need a familiar face.
“Where did you find Sara?” I ask, once Andrew arrives.
“You wouldn’t believe it, but she was slinking around the Starbuck’s I met you at. You didn’t see her at all?”
“Nope.” I shake my head and look down at the floor. “Did you talk to her?”
“I tried,” he said. “But she took off. She’s a quick one.”
Wonderful. She’s still out there somewhere. And so is Leah.
Andrew puts his hands on my shoulders. “We’ll find her, Casey.”
“We have to.”
***
It happened again. My worst fear. Replayed like a broken fucking record.
“South of Marshall front woman Leah Marshall has disappeared once more. This time from a soundstage in Las Vegas, Marshall was rehearsing with her band and went missing after taking a break. Band manager Lucas Field declined an interview. Marshall went missing last month in New York, only to be found roughed up at St. Michael’s hospital in the Big Apple. She claimed then she didn’t know who took her. Marshall went right back to work, and was supposed to play here in Vegas at the MGM Grand tonight. In the place of Sweet Saltwater…”
The news report showed their video for Mesmerize, just like the last time. Aching, searing, tearing pain rips through my heart. I can’t do this again. I won’t. I can’t think of her being somewhere in the dark with a fucking dirty bag on her head again.
“Fuck!” I holler, whipping the TV remote across the empty hotel room. It smashes into pieces against the wall. Just like my heart. Shattered, broken…dead.
Pounding…pounding. My heart still beats? No, it can’t. It’s broken.
No! It’s the door. I jump off the edge of the bed and rush to the door, unlocking it and flinging it open. Neil stands in the doorway, hands on the frame, his head hangs down and his eyes glisten.
He whispers something inaudible.
“What?” I ask, my body shaking.
“They found her,” he says.
I close my eyes. “Thank God. Let’s go.”
“No, Weston.” He looks up at me, falling right into me. Crying. “She’s gone. Leah’s dead.”
I push him back. No. No! No goddamn way. He’s wrong. He has to be! She’s not dead. Leah is fine. She’s okay…she’s just...missing. Not dead. Not dead.
“Neil…she’s okay. She’s not dead.” I shake my head. Not believing him.
“Weston, they found her. It’s her!” He sobs, falling to his knees. This big, tattooed motherfucker is crying on the floor of the room. His hands covering his face.
“It’s Leah! You know what to do…”
Beep.
“Baby…” I breathe. Unable to say anything else. I drop the phone and climb over Neil’s slumped body. “I’m coming.”
Neil calls after me, I don’t know what he’s said. I don’t care. I’m going to find her. They’re wrong. She’s not dead. It’s a mistake. A big fucking mistake.
She’s my forever. Forever. Not my…not my any longer.
“Weston? It’s Andrew…”
I answer his call without speaking.
“Where are you, Weston?”
“I’m going to find Leah.”
“Weston…tell me where you are right now. Are you still at the hotel?”
I look up and down the busy street, holding my hand up to hail a cab. “Yeah. But I’m leaving right now.”
“Fuck,” Andrew growls into the phone. “You need to stay there. I’m coming to get you.”
“No.” I drop my arm. “Neil’s wrong. I’m going to find her.”
A long pause.
“Neil’s not wrong, Weston. She’s gone. It’s all over the news now. I’m in the car, I’m coming to you. Stay there, damn it!”
No. I can’t accept it. She’s not gone. If she’s dead. Then I’m dead. If she’s not breathing. Then I’m unable to breathe too. I fall to my knees, hang my head and stare blankly at the pavement beneath me. It’s cold and hard. Like me.
Andrew finds me just as Neil comes out of the hotel.
“Come on, buddy. Get up,” Andrew says gruffly, reaching down to pick me up. Even at two hundred and twenty pounds, he still picks me up like I’m a feather. Standing me back on my feet, Andrew searches my eyes. “Can you stand?”
“Yes, I can stand.”
Neil crosses his arms, but doesn’t say anything.
“Take me to her.”
Andrew clenches his jaw. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Fuck what you think. Fuck you, Andrew. I said take me to her. Or I’ll find my own way there.”
There. I don’t even know where there is. I don’t know where Leah is.
“Where is she?”
Andrew points to his truck. “Get in.”
Neil climbs into the back seat of Andrew’s Denali and I hear the audible click of a seatbelt. I don’t bother putting one on. If we crash—and I hope we do. I hope I die. If she’s gone, I might as well be too.
My phone rings. It’s Riley. I ignore it.
Neil’s phone rings. He answers it.
It’s Leah’s mother. I hear him call her Mrs. Marshall. Neil
starts crying again.
“I’ll pick you up. Call me as soon as you land,” Neil says quietly.
Her mother is coming.
My phone rings again. Riley, again. I press ignore.
ANSWER YOUR GODDAMN PHONE WESTON. PLEASE!!!
Riley’s text message flies in.
We pull up to the curb of a building. I think it’s a hospital. Which gives me a tiny glimmer of hope. They don’t bring dead people to hospital’s…do they?
There are news reporters, cameras…people just, everywhere.
“Don’t talk to anyone,” Andrew instructs.
I nod. Neil doesn’t say anything.
We get out of the truck, and immediately people rush over to us.
“Neil! Neil! We’re so sorry for your loss! Can you speak to us for a minute?” One says, shoving a mic in Neil’s face.
He grits his teeth. “Fuck off.”
“Weston! Talk to us!” Another says.
I blink at the camera in my face. How do they know who I am? I look at Andrew, he shakes his head before grabbing hold of my arm.
We push through the siege of people and into the building.
It’s white. Clinical. Sterile. But it’s no hospital.
It’s a morgue. I can tell. I can feel the death.
“You don’t have to do this. Hell, they probably won’t even let you in anyway,” Andrew says, walking beside me.
“I want to see her.”
“Weston,” Neil says. “I didn’t tell you what happened.” He’s choking on tears again.
“Don’t,” Andrew growls. “We can’t do this, Weston. I can’t let you in there.”
I push past him and attempt to turn the handle on the door marked MORGUE in bold red letters.
“It’s secure. You can’t just waltz in.”
I glare at Andrew. “Then get me the fuck in there.”
Andrew pushes a button near the door. “Andrew Lindon with A.L. Inquest. Jerry, you in there?”
A voice rumbles low over the speaker. “Drew, I’m here. I was given explicit instructions to have no one in. Police orders.”
“Come out then, Jerry. For a second.”
A click. A door opens, and a tall, thin, balding man steps out wearing a dark blue pair of scrubs. The name badge pinned to his shirt says Jerry Smith, LVPD Coroner.
I’m not sure how much time passes from when Jerry steps out of the room, to when I fall to the ground and pass out. I don’t dream of anything. All I can see is black. There are no visions of Leah. Nothing. Simply, nothing. Something cold is placed on my forehead and I can hear distant words and snaps of fingers.
“Casey? You okay, man? Jeez.”
I blink my eyes open. “I’m fine.”
“Can you sit, Mr. Casey?” Jerry asks.
Neil and Andrew help me to my feet, then over to a chair. I sit.
“Please let me see her.” I lean down with my elbows on my knees, my face in my hands. “Or I’ll kick that fucking door down.”
“Mr. Casey…Miss Marshall was,” Jerry says quietly. “…burned. You shouldn’t. You can’t see her. I’m sorry. The answer is no.”
Visions of the smoke from the club fire, the burned shoes, and my beautiful Leah pour in my head and I almost lose it again. “NO!” I hear myself screaming.
Somewhere between the time Jerry tells me she’s really dead. Burned. And then time when her mother shows up, I’m basically just sitting and staring off into space.
Neil rushes to Leah’s mother and wraps his big, tattooed arms around her. They both cry, and sob. Her mother screams, and Neil tries to keep her on her feet as her body crumples like a tissue in his embrace.
Jerry won’t let her in to see Leah either. He does bring out a bracelet that she was wearing, and her charred wallet. Leah’s mother screams again. And I scramble to grab the trash can just across the hallway so I can throw up into it. My heart, my soul…my everything, is gone.
“You’re him, aren’t you?” Leah’s mother asks quietly, placing her hand on my shoulder.
I wipe off my mouth and look up at her. Embarrassed. I nod.
“She told me about you.” Her mother’s lip trembles. “I’m Olivia.”
I stand and hug her. She looks just like Leah. Just older, shorter, but the same face and eyes. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I’m so sorry.”
Olivia doesn’t say anything back. She just hugs me, and cries again.
***
They say you only get one real love. One real heart-stopping, mind-altering, forever, type of love. Leah was mine. I know she was. I don’t want anything or anyone now. She was it for me.
I stand in the bathroom, after my scalding shower. Only knowing it was scalding because I didn’t even turn the cold water on. My skin didn’t register the pain. I was numb. I was probably going to be fucking numb forever. I don’t care.
I stare into the mirror. My chest bruised from Riley’s fists.
She pounded, and cried, and screamed and pounded me some more when she got to Vegas. I let her. I just stood there and let her. If she had a knife, I’d probably have begged her to stab me with it.
Somehow I manage to dress. I can’t go to the airport in nothing but a towel. Putting on clothes is painful. Smiling hurts. I don’t even remember what it feels like to smile. Or speak. I haven’t done that in a few days either. Only a few random nods or head shakes when Andrew asked me something.
I haven’t seen Neil. Or any of her friends. Not even her mother. When Riley and the redhead, Addison, got to town they stayed with Olivia. They’re all flying back to Maine for Leah’s funeral together.
Andrew drives me to the airport. I think I thanked him. He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “You’ll be okay, Casey. Give it time.”
He’s wrong. I won’t be okay. And I’m okay with that. I think I’ll just go back to Wyoming and lay in that meadow behind Pine Ridge until I rot.
***
“When Leah and I were six, we snuck into the bathroom and cut each other’s hair. I remember convincing her it was a great idea, and that I promised to make her hair look just like a Barbie’s. She believed me.” Riley laughs, wiping a tear. “Our mom’s screamed when they saw our hacked off bangs and jagged bowl-cuts. We just laughed. “Hair grows, mama,” Leah had said at the time. I still have the picture they took of us that day.”
Addison stood to Riley’s left, and two other brunettes stood on her right. I don’t know who they are, but they obliviously loved Leah too.
“Leah loved life. She loved everything about it. She loved making people smile, and laugh. She was the most selfless person I’ve ever met. Our lives will be forever changed. They say only the good die young. Well, those words couldn’t be truer. Leah was good, the greatest…the absolute best, and I will miss her and love her for the rest of my life. I love you, girl.” Riley leans her head down on Addison’s shoulder, and they surround her, hugging her.
I stare blankly at the wooden casket. It’s beautiful and ornate. Unbelievable actually, considering what rests inside of it. A photo of Leah rests in a beautiful frame atop of the casket. Surrounded by sprays and bunches of flowers. “Daughter” is embroidered on a banner across a large arrangement of white and pink Calla Lily’s.
Olivia is unable to speak, she hasn’t stopped crying.
A few more people get up to talk about Leah. I tune them out. I simply sit and stare at her photo. Her beautiful face, that smile—those eyes that once looked at me so lovingly. Those lips that said the words to me. She loved me. I didn’t deserve her.
I couldn’t go to the reception. It was at Leah’s mother’s house. The thought of being in the home that Leah grew up in, slept in, laughed in, lived in…made me sick to my stomach.
It was hard enough being in her hometown.
I’m staying at a small B&B in town until my flight leaves tomorrow morning. I have to go back to New York and somehow function as CFO at Montedesco. As much as I want to curl up into a ball and die, I can’t let Josh down.
<
br /> Falling on the bed, still in my suit, I lay and look at the popcorn ceiling. The recessed lights dimly lit, illuminating the small room.
“It’s Leah! You know what to do…”
I’m sorry, the mailbox you’re trying to reach is full. Please try again later.
“I love you,” I whisper. The message unsent, but I had to say it anyway.
My phone rings just as I drop it from my hand. I sit up and smile, for a split second thinking it’s Leah calling me back. Deep down, I know it isn’t.
“Hello?” I ask, my voice gravely.
“West? You sound awful.”
“What do you want, Elsa?”
She’s the last person I want to talk to right now.
“I wanted to speak to you about your agency here…”
“I hate you. I don’t want to talk to you about jack-shit. Fuck off, leave me alone...just…go away, Elsa.”
I hear her sigh loud and melodically. “You’re so dramatic. What’s your problem anyway? Listen, I have an offer you won’t be able to refuse. You’ll call me back or better yet, fly home to Sheridan and I can tell you in person. Capiche?”
“Drop dead.”
Her wicked chuckle is the last thing I hear as I hang up on her.
***
Jo, my receptionist, brings me a coffee just after I get to the office. I force a smile and thank her as I set the mug down. Leaning back in the chair, I turn and look out in the New York skyline. It’s beautiful, actually. I remember being in this chair with Leah…touching and tasting her. Making love to her.
It’s been one week since she…died. Died. It’s still hard to say, let alone think about. But, somehow I’ve been managing to shower and dress and eat. If you consider only consuming cereal and coffee eating.
“It’s Leah! You know what to do…”
I’ve called her a million times. Just to feel the temporary calm from the sound of her voice. Those seven words are all I can take though. I can’t listen to her music, I can’t watch her videos. Especially since that fucker, Lucas, put that video of her singing “If I Die Young” on the Internet and it went viral. He’s a real piece of shit. I regret not knocking him out that day.
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