A Stone in the Sea

by A. L. Jackson

  Didn’t matter anyway.

  Because what I’d told him was the truth. He didn’t understand. And he wouldn’t. They never did. And I didn’t have time for those types of distractions. Because guys like him? That’s the only thing they’d ever allow me to be.

  On shaky feet, I forced myself to get back to work. I slipped out from the hallway, feeling another shudder roll through me when I caught the way Tamar was eyeing me when I ducked beneath the opening to the bar at the far end. I grabbed a towel and began scrubbing down the gleaming surface, head bowed, and pretending I couldn’t feel the intensity radiating from both of Sebastian and Tamar.

  But I couldn’t help myself, and my gaze got drawn to the movement. In my periphery, I watched the shadowy figure make his way back through the twist of high-top tables toward the entrance. Was it sick that I was hit with the overwhelming urge to drop everything I was doing and follow?

  He was tall, but not extremely so, maybe six feet, but it was the way he moved across the floor, the power behind his long stride and the ripple of corded muscles exposed in his arms that made him appear massive. A black tee was stretched across his wide, wide shoulders, snug where it clung to the strength of his back, gripping tight at his narrow waist.

  God.

  He was beautiful.

  Glancing back, he pushed his hand through the longer pieces of brown hair that fell across his eye, and my hands felt shaky, fingers tingly, shattered with the need to be doing that myself.

  Tamar stepped into my view, her vivid blue eyes filled with far too much interest. Subtly she cocked her head toward Baz, continuing to dry off the glass she held in her hand. “Who’s your friend?”

  I tore my gaze from Baz who’d stopped to look back at me and dismissed her with a shake of my head, diving back into wiping down the bar top. “Not my friend.”

  Even though I wasn’t looking at her, I could still feel her judgmental eyes narrow into slits. “You certain about that? He sure seems to think so.”

  Humorless laughter seeped from me, and I lifted the container that held all the condiments and scrubbed under it before I set it back down. “Lots of guys think we’re friends,” I said with all the sarcasm I could muster.

  “He seems to be the first one you’re inclined to agree.”

  I stopped to look at her. “What?”

  Red lips spread into a knowing smirk. “Oh, come on, Shea, you’ve been a jittery mess since the moment he came waltzing in here last night.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “What?” She repeated my question with a casual shrug. “I know you better than you think I do.”

  I wondered if that were possible.

  She studied me for a moment, like she was trying to pry the real answer out of me. “So you know who he is?”

  I lifted a shoulder, letting it propel my motion as I went to work on a sticky spill that had gathered behind a couple of bottles. “Who knows? Another tourist from California out looking for a good time.”

  Her dark, perfectly drawn eyebrows drew together in a fierce line. “You’ve never seen him before?”

  “Nope. Not before yesterday.”

  Almost in disbelief, she shook her head slowly, then pursed her lips when she peeked over at Baz whose entire face turned fiery and hard when her attention landed on him.

  I’d thought of him as dangerous. But right then? He looked a little terrifying.

  What was with this guy?

  She turned back to me. “Just be careful with him, okay?”

  Baz’s gaze locked on me for the longest moment before he pushed open the door and disappeared into the night.

  Warily, I glanced back at Tamar who was staring at me, her expression pointed when I finally snapped out of my stupor. “Because he’s going to be back.”

  And she was right. Over the next week, he came in three different times, each time sitting alone in his secluded corner. Each time he ordered one expensive drink and each time he left me an even larger tip.

  Each time he talked with me like our words were the most casual in the world while the intensity brimming between us only seemed to grow.

  And each time, he slipped a little deeper into my bones.

  “ANTHONY, WHAT’S UP, MAN?” I asked with my phone pressed to my ear, standing at the large windows in the kitchen that looked out over the ocean. Even though it was fucking hotter than Hades out there, the humidity thick and suffocating, my gaze landed on the lone figure who sat along the shoreline, legs drawn up to his chest, a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over his head.

  Austin.

  Worry fisted my entire being.

  “Baz, thanks for calling me back,” Anthony said.

  “You have news for me?”

  I heard his hesitation through the line, then he blew out a breath. “I do, but I’m afraid it’s not the good kind.”

  My nerves fired, and I began to pace, running my hand over the nape of my neck. “Let’s hear it, then.”

  “Martin Jennings doesn’t seem to be willing to flex on this. In fact, it’s worse than we expected. He’s filing a personal injury suit.”

  That son of a bitch was suing me?

  I should have ended him when I had the chance.

  “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me.”

  “Wish I was.”

  “What’s he claiming?”

  “He has the medical files. Broken jaw. Broken ribs. Facial lacerations. Multiple sutures. Extensive bruising. Of course they tacked on emotional trauma to that long list of injuries.”

  Emotional trauma? I’d show that douchebag emotional trauma.

  “The good news is I talked with Kenny and he was able to facilitate a mediation with Jennings’s attorney. We’re still trying to figure all this out without it going to court.”

  Kenny Lane and I had become really good friends in the last couple of years, considering my attorney and my agent spent half their time trying to get my ass out of trouble.

  “What’s he asking for?”

  “Two million.”

  “Fucking hell.”

  Figured. Those greedy industry assholes were all the same. Looking to live off someone else’s dime. What the hell still didn’t make any sense was him dragging my little brother right back into what he’d fought so hard to escape from in the first place. As much as Austin fought to deny it, I didn’t question for a second that Jennings had been involved. I had seen him coming out of the trailer.

  Saw it.

  Knew it.

  Felt it deep.

  Punk kids like your brother aren’t ever going to make it, anyway.

  That’s what that slimy bastard had said when I confronted him, right before he followed it up with a creepy smirk, and I’d lost my goddamned mind.

  “Listen, you and I both know he’s not going to squeeze that much out of you. He’s starting high and knows he’s going to have to settle.”

  “I don’t owe him anything.”

  Anthony sighed, his own frustration traveling over the phone. “You think I want this guy to win even a cent of your money? Unless you want to come out with the reason for your assault, I don’t have a lot of other options to make this go away. You’ve got to give something if you want to keep this quiet.”

  I looked out to my baby brother who sat still as a stone, the tide slowly making its way up the bank, like it was stretching toward him. Reaching for him. Begging for him.

  And he just waited.

  “What do I have to do?” I finally conceded. For Austin, I’d give it all.

  “I’m going to need you back in L.A. on the seventeenth of next month. That gives you four weeks to figure out how much you want to give on this…what you want to say, and what you don’t want to say. I can’t stall them any longer than that, and if we can settle out of court on this, we may just be able to sway him into dropping the criminal charges.” His voice got tight. “I’m not willing to let you go to jail for this, Baz. I’m not.”

  Scrubbing m
y hand over my face, I drew it down to yank at my chin, agitation tearing through me. This sucked.

  No, it didn’t just suck.

  It was fucking ridiculous.

  “Fine. I’ll be there.”

  I could feel Anthony’s relief carry all the way from California. “Good. I’m glad to hear you’re being smart about this. I know it’s not fair.”

  I grunted, and he was quick to change the subject. “So tell me how the guys are holding up.”

  “Everyone’s…fine.”

  Antsy. Worried. But here and taking up my back, just like they promised me they always would.

  “Are you all staying out of trouble?”

  Cynical laughter rolled around in my chest. “Not a whole lot of trouble to be had in these parts, Anthony.”

  “Right,” he countered, calling my bullshit. He knew I could find trouble wherever I went.

  Sweet caramel eyes flitted through my mind. Long, long legs. Killer body with a cautious heart.

  Dark. Light. Heavy. Soft.

  Trouble.

  Trouble.

  Trouble.

  I could feel it, yet I just kept going back for more, sitting in that isolated corner waiting on her to finally change her mind, just for a few hours, to make me forget.

  Make me forget who I actually was.

  “Everyone’s hanging tight,” I assured him.

  “Good to hear. Let me know what else I can do. You know I’m here, whatever you need.”

  “Yeah, I know. Thanks, man.”

  He laughed lightly. “All just part of the job.”

  But we both knew he went far and above any duty he owed to the band. That he wasn’t just our agent. A long time ago he started skirting right along the edges of becoming an honorary member of this fucked-up family. His house we’d descended on and taken over proved that.

  Had to admit, it was awesome to have someone like him have our backs.

  “I’ll talk to you soon,” he said.

  “Yep. Take care.” I ended the call and turned back to look out on where my little brother lifted his face to the glaring sun.

  Shit.

  I stepped through the glass-paned doors and out onto the deck. Rays of light cut through the sky, and I squinted my eyes against its harshness. My heavy boots thudded across the wooden planks as I treaded down the walkway, before they sank into the soft sand. Austin didn’t look behind him as I approached, although it was clear he knew I was there. I settled down beside him, mirrored his pose by hugging my knees to my chest.

  “How are you doing?” I asked, finally cutting through the silence straining between us.

  He shrugged his too-skinny shoulders, his tone way less than enthused. “I’m alive.”

  I flinched and he dropped his head. “Sorry,” he said toward the ground, dangling his hands between his knees.

  “Don’t do that to me, Austin. I can’t lose you. Don’t you get that? After everything? It’d kill me.”

  It was a load to put on his shoulders. But I needed him to know his value. That maybe it felt like this entire world was against him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t the center of mine.

  “Why? All I do is ruin shit.”

  “You’ve made mistakes. Just like the rest of us. It doesn’t mean we love you any less.”

  He scoffed. “Right. Why don’t you ask Dad how much he loves me?”

  I shut down the growl that clamored around in my chest. That piece of shit didn’t deserve to call Austin his son. “Wasn’t talking about him. He doesn’t love anyone.” Not even himself. “I’m talking about me. The guys. None of us blames you for any of this.”

  He squeezed his hands into fists, puffed a breath out into the humid air. He turned to look at me with tormented grey eyes, dim and drained and full of despair. “I want to live up to that, Baz. I do. But I don’t know if I know how.”

  “This isn’t an issue of you living up to it. It’s an issue of you accepting it.”

  His throat wobbled when he swallowed like he was trying to swallow down his emotion. “I’m trying.”

  “I know, man. I know.” I climbed to my feet and clapped him on the shoulder. I faced the house while he stared out toward the sea. I knew he was lost in the same memories that would haunt both of us for the rest of our lives. “You can’t live in the past anymore,” I murmured quietly, gripping him tightly, like maybe it would help me get through to him.

  He watched out over the cresting waves. “No? Then maybe I’ll follow you out of it.”

  A shiver rolled down my spine at his insinuation.

  Because it was Austin who didn’t deserve to be stuck there.

  Not when I was the one who belonged to it.

  Ash flicked a bottle cap clear across the kitchen. Dude landed it in the garbage. He proceeded to down half the beer as he turned back to the rest of us who sat around the table, smacking his lips with a big ah when he slammed it down on the table, blue eyes filled with mischief. Just like they always were.

  Amused, I shook my head at him and took a sip of my beer. “Anthony’s gonna cut your balls off if you mess up his house. Better watch yourself.”

  “Nah…Anthony loves me. Besides, you know me better than to think I’m gonna miss.”

  “Oh, the skills you have.”

  Ash laughed. “Add it to my resume…awesome bass player, hot with the ladies, not so bad with words, so-so voice—kickass bottle cap flicker.”

  “Thinking awful highly of yourself there,” I teased, pushing the sole of my shoe to his shin under the table, nudging him back.

  He shrugged like the cocky asshole he was, and was doing his best not to bust up laughing. “What? I’m trying to be modest here.”

  I looked at him over my bottle that was poised at my mouth. “Right.”

  Lyrik stretched back in his chair, scratching at his bare stomach. “Come on, are we going to play or what? Deal some cards, man,” he said, pointing at Ash, before he turned his finger to poke in Zee’s direction. “I need to win my money back from this asshole.”

  “Yeah, man.” Zee’s entire face lifted with the challenge and he whacked both his hands on the tabletop. “Let’s do this.”

  The guys were always giving each other shit. Constantly. But the four of us? We were family. Brothers. Didn’t matter that we didn’t have the same blood running through our veins. Loyalty ran thick, and I’d learned a long time ago sometimes that bond mattered more.

  The three of them and my baby brother?

  They were the only family I needed.

  The only family I wanted.

  Everyone threw their ante into the center of the table, while Ash shuffled and dealt.

  Lyrik groaned when he picked up his cards.

  “Looks like you’ve perfected that poker face.” I lifted a brow, taunted him a little, because the guy couldn’t win if he cheated.

  He tossed his cards facedown on the table. “Damn it. I fold.”

  Zee cracked up. “God, dude, I’m going to own you in about ten minutes if you keep that up. You might as well pass over the pin to your bank account.”

  Lyrik leaned over the table and swatted Zee’s cards out of his hand. “There…you lose this round, too.”

  “You’re just pissed someone half your age is kicking your ass.”

  “Half my age?” Lyrik flew out of his chair, knocking it back, and lunged for Zee. “It’s your ass that’s getting kicked. You’re going down, buddy.”

  Zee howled with laughter as he jumped from his chair and sprang back into the open area of the kitchen, bouncing around on his toes as he gestured with his hands for Lyrik to come and get him. The two of them boxed at each other, not really throwing blows, just messing around the way they always did.

  “Come on, old man. You can do better than that,” Zee taunted when he ducked and Lyrik’s lazy punch landed nothing but air, and Ash and I were stifling our laughter at Zee’s over-confidence, because there was no doubt Lyrik could take him down in a second flat. Dude was not o
ne to be fucked with.

  But Lyrik would let Zee get away with murder. Hell, he’d probably help him.

  Of course Zee was only five years younger than the rest of us. Twenty-one. Sometimes it felt like he was ages younger, still filled with all kinds of wide-eyed innocence, like he hadn’t yet come to accept the cold, hard truth of this world. You’d think after Mark, it would have hit him. But no. Here he was, living life to its fullest even when it threatened to suck the life out of the rest of us.

  The two of them ended up on the floor, wrestling around like ten year olds, before Zee finally called “uncle”.

  “That’s what I thought.” Lyrik shot him a gloating grin and sat back on his haunches, while Zee pushed up to sitting, gasping for breath, then just turned around and dug it in a little more. “Still got all your money, asshole.”

  Like any of us needed to worry about money.

  Ash started shuffling for another hand, before he slapped the deck down in frustration. “I’m about to go out of my mind over here. Let’s get out of here. I can’t stay holed up in this house any longer.”

  “Not sure that’s the best idea.” Since when had I become the voice of reason? But we hadn’t been out as a group since we got here. Individually? Sure. But it seemed more conspicuous if the four of us went strutting around together, just begging for attention.

  It was pretty clear that voice of reason was concerned about one person and one person only, the girl who still looked at me as if I was just a regular guy who’d walked in from off the streets.

  “Why not? No one has even batted an eye my direction anytime I’ve run into town. I think we’re good to go grab a drink. That’s it. No fuckery,” Ash reasoned.

  Lyrik and Zee both nodded, and Lyrik spoke up. “Yeah, no worries, we’ll keep it cool. We just need a breather from these walls before we go redrum on your ass.”

  I scrubbed my palm over my mouth, feeling put on the spot.

  Zee looked at me, lifted his chin. “Where have you been sneaking off to every night? Something out there has to be interesting to keep your attention for this long.”