by Tricia Lynne
Outside, a gentle rain had started to fall, warm and easy—the kind perfect for playing in with someone you love. I opened the balcony doors, climbed under the comforter, and tried to put Declan out of my mind with the steady whisper of raindrops against the buildings.
I lay curled, staring out into the New Orleans night for minutes, hours, maybe lifetimes.
A knock on the door.
Kat or Declan. I didn’t want to see either. They’d go away eventually.
The knock came again accompanied by a slight Cajun drawl. “Avery, darlin’, open up. It’s Matt.”
What does he want? I crawled from the bed and looked through the peephole.
“I can see your feet, cher.”
Shit. I opened the door to an exhausted-looking Matt leaned against the doorjamb. His head slumped forward on his shoulders and his big body was turned in on itself. Raising his head, he searched my tear-soaked, puffy face. “Dammit.”
“I don’t need you to explain things for your boy.”
He lifted my bruised hand in his much larger one. Brushed his thumb over my swollen knuckles. “Nobody knows I’m here. Least of all Declan.” His sigh sounded long and tired. “This is all my fault. Can I come in?”
I motioned him in and sat on the bed, pulling my legs under me. “Mattie, unless you forced her tongue down his throat, I don’t see how it could be your fault.”
He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You know, you’re the only person who calls me Mattie?” With a weary shrug, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I took the girl back to the dressing room. I was…”
“Going to nail her?”
“Yeah.” He shuffled his feet.
I didn’t need to hear any of this, but obviously he needed to say it.
“I’m pissed at Jamie and Declan, because of all those other irons in the fire Jamie talks about. Among other things. Shaun has Sadie and the kid. Jamie has world-class talent and his other band. Declan has Whiskey Moon. I have BlackSmith, and not much else. Nothing to tie me here at least. And I happen to agree with you—we could make it big if—if they didn’t have all of those other damn irons.” His forehead creased, his brows drawn tight as he stared at some unseen point on the comforter. “I didn’t care Declan was in the bathroom. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d banged some random with him in the room. I was dry-humping her on the couch when he told me to take her someplace else. That you might turn up.”
Mattie shook his head. “I was angling for the fight anyway. Then he mentions you. I just lost it. I shoved him, took a swing even, but he slipped it. Refused to fight with me, so I stormed out and left her there. I don’t know what happened between that and you walking in, but I know Declan. And he’s been consumed by you since the beginning.” There was something both haunted and torn in Matt’s eyes. “Shit, Avery. It’s not hard to do—”
His smile was a bittersweet thing as he cut himself off and his eyes met mine for a long moment before he turned away. Shoving a hand through his curls, he wandered out to the balcony. Both forearms on the rail, he heaved out a tired exhale and stared at the street below.
I followed him out and leaned a hip beside him on the railing.
“I ran into Shaun. He told me about you and Declan screaming in the hall and you knocking that girl out.” He gave me a sly smirk.
“Hmphf. It felt good. I wish she would have stayed up. I would’ve liked to hit her a few times.” I met his amusement with my own. “Did they take her to the hospital?”
“Yeah, Declan and one of Molly’s roadies took her. Guess she’s some agent’s daughter, barely legal, and gets herself into trouble a lot. They said it was only a matter of time before somebody’s girlfriend or wife laid her out.” Mattie turned toward me, his grin revealing his dimples.
I blew out a breath, pushed a hand through my hair as I went back inside. “Well, I’m leaving tomorrow so the cops will have a hard time arresting me unless they figure out where I’m staying.”
“No one would drop dime, darlin’. Specially after that punch.” He turned, leaning his butt against the rail.
“Did you say what you came to say? Because it’s not going to help your boy’s cause.” The words came out soft and sad. “Declan was right, you know. He said I was looking for an out. Well, this makes my exit a lot cleaner, doesn’t it?”
He nodded short and tight.
“He thinks I’m a coward for putting up walls to protect myself, but he doesn’t understand that I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop since that first night.” I shook my head, focusing on my feet. “Because that other shoe always drops, darling. And men like Declan—” Are way out of my league.
Matt moved in front of me, running warm palms up and down my arms before thumbing my tears and forcing me to look up.
“Dammit, girl. You two had to come to NOLA, didn’t you? You could have gone to Vegas, but no. Y’all blow into town and whip everything and everybody up like a pair of twin hurricanes.” He smirked, and that boyish charm made me smile through my tears.
“Avery, I’d like to stay here tonight.”
“Mattie—”
“I’m not after sex, cher. I just…I don’t want to be alone. You don’t need to be alone.” I could see the emotions swirling in his turquoise eyes, and knowing what little I did, I doubted anyone had seen this side of Matthias. The Matthias that wasn’t shrouded in darkness when he took off his mask.
“I don’t need you to be here for me, sweetie. I’m stronger than I look.”
“Yes, love, I know. All too well. Shit. I’ll sleep in my clothes, I just…”
“Yes. I could use a cuddle, too.”
He showed me his dimples as the tense set of his shoulders eased. “Of course, if you tell anyone I’ll have to kill you.”
“Your secret’s safe with me, cher.” I tossed his favorite endearment at him, turned to crawl under the covers.
“Can I take my shirt off?”
I nodded. I wasn’t attracted to Matthias that way. My affection was for my friend, Mattie.
He laid down on top of the covers and I laced my fingers through his. “You know, we’re the same, you and me.”
“How’s that?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“Both of us trying to hide who we really are. Both having to see ourselves through someone else’s eyes before we can appreciate what they see.”
“Like recognizes like?”
I nodded. “I think we could be very good friends, Mattie O’Dwyer.” I rolled, giving him my back, and he pulled me against his chest, wrapping his arm over mine.
Smoothing my hair off my shoulder, he whispered, “I don’t know, cher. I think that could get…messy. But for what it’s worth. I think you’re right. We are the same.”
We drifted off together to the soft sound of the rain.
Chapter 27
Declan
She ran again.
I was fighting my demons left and right trying to stay in her life, and she was still looking for excuses to end it.
I unlocked the door to the boxing gym Shaun owned and changed into shorts, set my phone on the dock, and cranked up Metallica, hoping to drown the noise in my head. I slipped on my half finger gloves, stretched my shoulders and neck as the intro to “Blackened” built through the speakers.
Two messages, a dozen calls, and not a word from Avery. Not even a fuck you. When the roadie had dropped me back at the venue to pick up the Lead Sled, Shaun and Jamie descended.
“You’re going to lose her if you don’t tell her how you feel,” Shaun put in.
“I’m gonna lose her anyway! Like she said, our time together always had an expiration date. Every time Avery gets even a little spooked, she bolts.” I walked across the room and poured two fingers of whiskey in a glass
and sipped. “She’s been looking for the right excuse to make a clean exit. Now she has it.” And I do, too.
Shaun crossed his arms over his chest. “Ah, I get it now. I know you’re scared, D, but if she doesn’t scare you a little, she’s not the right one.”
A little? I was terrified.
“Why do you think that is, Declan? That she runs.” Kat hit me with a scorching look. “I think you know.”
Yeah, I fucking knew. “Master of Puppets” turned into “Dyer’s Eve,” and the punches came harder as I bounced on my toes and sweat started to roll down my spine.
“Not all women are like your mom, Declan. Not any more than you’re like your father,” Jamie put in.
I sent him a scathing look. Wasn’t I? They didn’t get it. This wasn’t about Mommy leaving me when I was little—it was about my old man, and what her leaving did to him.
I hit the bag with heavy combinations. Jab, Jab. Left to the middle, right to the jaw.
My shoulders ached and sweat ran into my eyes.
“It’s not my place.” Kat laid a hand on my arm. “I don’t tell her secrets, Declan, but try to imagine how many men in her life have hurt her, used her, or told her she wasn’t enough, for her to run when something good finally comes along.”
I gave Kat a tight nod. I knew the why of it, but it didn’t make it any less hard on me when she did it.
“She needs time, but she’s worth every bit of the fight. My question is, are you?”
Was I?
Band rats, and women groping me without permission, phone numbers and room keys slipped into my pockets. The tattoos I wore like armor, the music, even the bar. I couldn’t keep that from touching Avery. And I hated it.
My shoulders cramped, and I kept pounding away. By the time “Spit Out the Bone” played, I was a sloppy street fighter, throwing punches from sheer force of will.
Avery should have light and clean, and all I could give her was dark and dirty.
Now you’re makin’ the excuses, boyo. Ye don’t take her choices from her. Would you want your choices taken from you?
Was I making excuses?
With my lungs burning and arms crying out, I didn’t so much decide to sit as my legs gave. On my back, knees bent, my breath sawed out as I stared at the ceiling and the song flipped to “Nothing Else Matters.”
Christ, yer thick, Declan. It’s simple. If you love the woman, ye fight for her no matter how long it takes because she’s the sun and the fire and the air in yer lungs. Ye’ll lay down on broken glass, step into a bullet…and mourn her loss until yer last breath.
Yeah, I’d do all that and more for Avery. And she scared me so much because I’d known that since our very first kiss. But if she threw me aside, would I turn into my old man?
“We all make choices, boyo. Yer old man chose ta climb inta the bottle. That doesn’t mean it’s the choice ye’ll make. You tell the girl you love her, Declan. Ye take the chance and ye trust in her and yerself, or ye regret not grabbin’ hold of her when ye had her.”
“Thank you, Da,” I whispered.
In my head, he answered, “You’re welcome, son.”
I left Avery another voicemail. It was time. We’d both been leaving things unsaid far too long.
* * *
—
The next morning, I tapped on the door to her room. Leaned against the doorframe. Fuck being noble. I was a selfish sonofabitch. I knew she deserved better, but I wasn’t walking away.
When the door opened, instead of seeing Avery’s eyes, I was met with a shirtless Matthias.
“Shit.” His face drained.
What the fuck? But shock turned into rage as I took in his disarray. His feet were bare, his curls wild, and his button-fly was half-undone.
Avery walked out of the bathroom in boxers and a tank top. Her mouth dropped open when she saw me, but no words came out.
I met Matt’s eyes. “You motherfucker.” My voice was a lethal whisper. I’d beat him, and beat him, until I couldn’t lift my arms, and the world ceased to exist.
He’d stayed. Matt didn’t stay over with women. But he’d stayed with Avery.
This was my fault. Between the band rat, and the signs I’d ignored, this was all on me.
“Declan.” Avery took a step toward me, drawing my attention.
Pain ripped through my chest, replacing the rage. People talk about the pain of heartbreak like this, but I never thought of it in a literal sense. Yet, it twisted into a throbbing knot behind my ribs.
“Dimples over tattoos, yeah, sweetness?” I broke then. With my own fucking name on her lips, I broke into so many pieces I’d never be whole, and I met her beautiful gold eyes, letting her see what I felt for her. The words I came here prepared to say turned to ash in my mouth when Matt pulled open the door. God, the motherfucking pain…It wouldn’t stop, it grew and grew, and I let her see that, too.
I didn’t even blame her. Avery was so smart, successful—way above my pay grade—and she’d finally come to her senses the night before seeing me for the liability I was.
Matt’s head slumped forward, his body defeated. But it wasn’t rage I felt anymore. There was only the pain and the crushing weight of the dark.
Shuttering my eyes from her, I turned and left, knowing I loved her.
I always would.
Avery
Jamie took us to the airport. He held Kat’s hand the entire trip. When we arrived, he got our bags and I said my goodbye while Kat busied herself with her carry-on. I pulled him into a heartfelt hug, whispered, “You’ll have to fight for her, darling. She won’t go willingly.” When I pulled back, I kissed his cheek. “Okay?”
He held my hand and nodded. “Funny, she said something like that to Declan last night.”
“Well,” I deflected. “You are the stuff of fairy tales, my impossibly handsome prince. And I am going to miss you terribly.”
He looked both embarrassed and amused. “I know things went sideways last night, but I’d like to keep in touch.”
Nope, being adopted as one of the guys was never a problem for me. “Hey, baby.” I reached around to smack his ass. “Life’s never boring as long as I’m in it. You and Mattie have not heard the last from me.”
He kissed my cheek and I gathered as many bags as I could carry before I went into the terminal to let them say goodbye.
Sitting at the gate, Kat slipped earbuds in and left me to my head. She was in her head, too. I stared at my phone. Five voicemails from Declan. Time for more self-mutilation.
Message One (10:43 pm): “Avery, where the fuck are you? You can’t run around alone in some parts of The Quarter at night, I don’t care how hard you hit. Go back to the hotel, I’ll try you later. I gotta take the girl to the ER. No one will say your name, sweet. I promise.”
Message Two (11:17 pm): “They’ve got her in triage. Daddy is on his way. Shit, I’m worried about you, okay? Just let me know you made it home safe, well…to the hotel. It’s not home, is it? We need to talk, Avery. You know in your soul I wouldn’t hurt you this way. Christ, now I sound like a chick again.”
Message Three (12:41 am): “Kat told me you made it back….You were right about the control, you know. Your temper is every bit as black as mine. You’re just better at hiding it. This whole time, I thought it was me in control. But you held it all, didn’t you? You just let me think it belonged to me.”
Message Four (6:36 am): “Kat said I should give you time to cool off, but I had to tell you, I get it now. Why my dad chased my mom? Yeah, I get it all right. What do I need to do, Avery? Just tell me. I am so fucked, Jesus. I won’t let you go like this. I, shit…I’m falling, sweetness.
“Stay. Please? I want you to stay.”
Message Five (9:54 am): “Goddammit. I
can’t get it out of my head. I want to, but I can’t un-fucking-see it, can I? The anger, Jesus. This motherfucking anger is eating me. And the goddamn pain…If you wanted to pay me back, you picked the cruelest way possible, didn’t you?
“You win, baby. I hope you’ll be happy with those fucking walls of yours. I know I’ll be better off with mine.”
Tears slid down my cheeks, heavy and warm, in the middle of Louis Armstrong International. Kat tried to give me a wadded tissue. I waved it off. Everyone should get to see what a hot mess I was; take me in, in all my heartbreak and humiliation.
During my life, I’d known catastrophic loss. My brother. My mother. Even my father when he’d turned his back on me. But nothing could’ve prepared me for the feeling when my thread with Declan snapped, or the yawning, wailing emptiness that followed.
My heart was broken, but it could heal. Time, patience, all the bullshit they tell you to do for a broken heart. I knew they didn’t lessen the pain, but you grew accustomed to it. Formed a shell of protection around the damage. Like a broken bone, when it calcified, it would be harder, stronger, than the original.
That wasn’t it at all, though. What I felt wasn’t just pain and heartache. It was a dark, empty nothingness crawling from the pit of my stomach, devouring me torturously slow. I had a new understanding of my father. Of Declan’s father, and Declan’s fear that his own darkness would consume him.
My heart was absolutely broken, that had happened the night before when I saw the groupie kissing him. But this was so much worse, hearing the echo in Declan’s voice of my own emotions, the distorted resonance of what should have been. The finality of the reverb from that broken thread. And I’d been the one to cut it.
It wasn’t just heartbreak that left this kind of black hole. This was what happened when you tampered with Fate. When you were denied, or denied yourself, your soul mate. The abysmal nothingness consuming me was the result when your soul found its other half and was deprived of that connection.