by Emily Snow
I look up at his beautiful face, his green eyes and strong jaw, just the perfect amount of stubble softening the angles. His broad shoulders beckon to me, and the smooth skin of his hard chest is visible above the collar of his shirt. Until this morning, I thought his rock star lifestyle was my biggest fear, but now something more sinister lurks on the edges of my consciousness. Something tied to Tammy’s excessive reaction to Joss and me. But it’s so much easier to ignore it right now. So much easier to simply give in to my wants, my desires, my heart.
“Okay,” I say. “But we need to take it slow. Let me keep talking to her and see if I can get her to come around. Let’s not flaunt it.”
He reaches out and pulls me closer, wrapping his long, strong arms around my waist and resting his chin on the top of my head. “Whatever you want. We’ll keep it quiet. As long as I can be with you, Mel. I want you way too fucking much to give you up. Not for your sister, not for anyone.”
He sets me away from him and then takes my hand before leading me to the bedroom, where he proves that he can rock me as fabulously off a stage as on one, until it’s time to load up the bus and move on to the next city.
We’ve been on the bus for three hours when Tammy finally heads to her room, leaving Walsh in the main compartment. Joss and I didn’t sit together. He’s been working on some stuff with the head of the crew, and Tammy and Walsh kept to themselves in a back corner, leaving me to catch up on some sleep.
Once I see Tammy leave, I get up and walk back to Walsh. “Can I sit here?” I ask him.
He smiles at me, but it’s a sad smile. “Sure, Little D. Have a seat.”
I slide into the cushy captain’s chair, not too sure what should come next.
“I guess you’re not really Little D anymore though, are you?” Walsh says as he nudges me with his elbow. I can feel my face heat up.
“I haven’t been for a long time, Walsh. Some people don’t seem to have noticed though.”
“She loves you so much, you know?” he responds as he looks out the window. “She loves hard, your sister. She’s just wired that way. And it’s a damn good thing for me, Mel, because I’ve put her through hell.”
I place my hand on his arm. Walsh is a really good guy. I know he would never have hurt Tammy if he could have helped it.
“It wasn’t your fault, Walsh. You have a disease, and it got the best of you for a while. Tammy understands that.”
His head pivots to face me suddenly, and I can see the toll this has had on him. The pressure he’s under. Walsh is so easygoing, so happy generally, that he doesn’t usually show when he’s in pain. He hides it well, and I guess that’s how he ended up in rehab.
“Don’t make excuses for me, Mel. It doesn’t help. What I did was selfish and unfair to the people who loved me, especially your sister. Sometimes I’m afraid I broke her, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused now.
“She hasn’t been the same since I got out of rehab. It’s like she’s so scared something’s going to take me away from her. I’ve been clean, Mel. I swear it—not one slip. I won’t do that to her. I love her too much to put her through that again. But it’s like she can’t relax. I catch her sometimes when she thinks she’s alone. She cries, Mel. Sits there looking at pictures of us before I went to rehab and just cries.”
Anyone who knows my sister knows she doesn’t cry over much of anything. I haven’t seen her cry in years, although I’m sure she cried when Walsh got so sick. But now that he’s out and doing fine? Why?
“Have you asked her about it?”
“Only once. She blew it off as PMS, but I know something’s not right. There’s this desperation to her. When—well, when we’re alone.” He looks at me and raises his eyebrows, insinuating what “alone” means. “Every time is like she thinks it’ll be the last time. I don’t know what it is, Mel, but she’s not okay.”
“Well, this morning did nothing to dispel that view,” I answer ruefully.
Walsh runs his hands down his thighs like he can wipe away the memories. “Yeah, I couldn’t get her to talk about it at all. And just so you know, I’m not saying I’m good with you and Joss, but I also know you’re an adult, and if you want to take that chance with him, then so be it. I’ll always be here for you no matter what happens.”
I feel a lump rise I my throat. “Oh, Walsh,” I whisper.
He hooks an arm around my neck and gives me a noogie. “Just doing my brotherly duties. But that doesn’t mean Joss gets to fuck with Tammy’s head.” He looks up the aisle to where Joss is deep in papers with the crew chief. “He’s not high on my list right now, even if you are sleeping with him.”
I roll my eyes. “God, Walsh, stop it. Honestly, he only wants Tammy to be happy too. Everyone was strung out this morning. He didn’t mean he’d actually fire her.”
Walsh snorts. “You don’t know Joss all that well yet, Little D. He never says something he doesn’t mean.”
“So what are we going to do about this?” I try to deflect. “Because Joss isn’t backing down, and you and I are caught in the middle.”
“And what about you? Are you prepared to take this battle on alongside Joss? Because if you’re just giving in to his pressure, that’s no way to start a relationship.”
I’m not sure what we’re starting is a relationship. I’m not sure what it is we’re starting, but I won’t tell that to Walsh.
“I’m not going to let Tammy decide who I sleep with, Walsh. Surely you can see that’ll never work.”
He nods and sighs. “Yeah, I know. I got her calmed down for now. We’ll see how long it lasts.”
“Do you think she needs some sort of help? Like a doctor or meds or something?”
His head whips toward me and I can see his jaw tighten. “What the fuck, Mel? One night with Joss and now you’re ready to have your sister committed?”
I feel the sting of the words as if he’d flung something at me physically instead of metaphorically. “No, of course not. God. I love Tammy and I’m worried about her. You just told me she hasn’t been herself. And she was seriously out of her head this morning. The way she’s acting isn’t normal, Walsh. You can see that.”
He goes back to looking out the window, but I can see him clenching his teeth as the veins in his neck throb. “I’ll handle Tammy. You just keep Joss out of her way.”
His tone of voice tells me this conversation is over, and I’m afraid of making things worse if I keep pushing. So I stand up and lean down to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for being a good brother, Walsh. Promise me you’ll tell me if you think she needs anything?”
He nods.
“Can I go see her?” I ask.
“Why don’t you check in with her tonight. We’re stopping for dinner in some little town. Come eat with her. I’ll sit with the guys.”
I agree, realizing I’ve come to a point where I have to get permission to see my own sister. It makes me sad beyond measure. My heart aches as I make my way back to the front of the cabin and sit down at my laptop. The only bright spot is when Joss looks over at me and I see his face break out into sheer, unadulterated joy. It’s such a rare expression for him that I can’t help but stop and simply stare. He quirks an eyebrow at me and I laugh before I go back to work.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Joss
For once I’m grateful to have to listen to my crew manager go over every fucking detail of the next two days. It takes my mind off of the lies I had to tell Mel this morning. Things like, “I don’t know what changed between me and Tammy.” Things that make me sick down deep in my core. I can hear my grandmother’s voice in my mind, telling me that lies always come back to haunt you.
That thought is swimming through my head when we finally stop for dinner that night. I slouch off the bus, expecting that I’ll get a table for Mel and I in some dark corner where Tammy can’t see us, when Walsh comes up and murmurs into my ear. “Mel’s going to talk to Tammy ove
r dinner. You and I can eat with the guys.”
I give him a sideways glance. “Fine,” I grumble.
By the time we get inside, Mike and Colin have secured a big table for themselves and a bunch of the roadies. The place is one of those giant warehouse barbecue setups—concrete floors, corrugated metal walls here and there, lots of cow skulls and Texas license plates hanging from the ceilings. The smell of smoking meat permeates the space. Walsh and I take seats at the end of the crew’s table next to one another. The wait staff was forewarned of our arrival hours ago, but I can see they’re still tripping out over us. I try to keep my head down and don’t take off my sunglasses, hoping it’ll dissuade any requests for autographs.
The little busgirl has come by to refill our waters down at my end of the table about six times in fifteen minutes, and Walsh rolls his eyes at me as she hits us up yet again. “I’m going to have to piss for the next three hours,” he mutters under his breath. I can’t help but laugh and I start to relax. God, I wish he and I could get back to who we used to be. I miss him so much sometimes that I can almost feel it in the air around me. It’s chilly and damp and dull.
“Can I get you boys something from the bar?” our middle-aged bleach-blond waitress asks as she smooths her hand over her tight t-shirt, thrusting her chest out at the same time.
“Nah, I’m good,” I say, keeping my eyes on her face.
“You can have a beer, you know,” Walsh says as he looks at me. “I’m not going to freak out or anything.”
I smile wryly. “I’m fine, really. But thanks.”
“Just water for me,” Walsh tells her when she looks at him.
“Okay, but if you boys need anything else at all, just holler. I’m Carrie.”
“Sure thing.” Walsh smiles benignly.
“Hey, Walsh!” Mike yells suddenly from midway up the table.
“Yo,” Walsh replies.
“Why the hell were you over at the auditorium this morning? I called for a car and they said you and Joss had both of them over there. Did you leave something last night?”
Walsh shoots me a sharp look out of the corner of his eye. He’s no better at lying than I am, so I’m sure he’s freaking out right about now. “Yeah, Tammy thought she’d lost something over there, but turns out Joss had picked it up.”
I see the glint in Mike’s eye, even from several seats away. He leans back in his chair and affects a casual air. “Oh yeah, man? I heard it was Mel that you guys lost, and Joss was kind enough to keep her overnight for you.”
The crew guys sitting in between Mike and us start snickering.
Fucking asshole. I’m halfway up out of my seat before I feel Walsh’s arm on mine. “Don’t do it. Not here,” he mutters. I slam back down in my chair. Then he raises his voice so Mike will hear it. “Dude, that’s my future sister-in-law you’re talking about. Let’s not go there, all right? It’s all good, and everybody made the bus, so drop it.”
I can nearly see the wheels turning in Mike’s head. “You protecting Mel or Joss?” he asks bitterly.
I’m clenching my jaw so hard to keep from responding that I can feel a sharp pain shoot up the side of my head.
“I just don’t think this is the kind of conversation we want to have right now, right here, man. You can dig that, can’t you?” Walsh asks.
“Yeah, I can dig that—Hey, Joss.”
“Shit. Just don’t, Mike,” I grit out as I run my hand through my hair.
He bats his eyelashes at me. “Just making friendly conversation, bro.”
“What do you want?”
“Do you remember that time you and Walsh both had the hots for Samantha O’Neil?”
Walsh tries to choke back a laugh.
“Yeah. What the hell does that have to do with anything?” I ask.
“Just taking a little walk down memory lane. You always were pissed she picked Walsh over you, huh?”
“Yeah, we were what? Twelve? I never quite got over it,” I snort. “What the fuck is he going on about?” I mutter to Walsh under my breath.
“I have no idea,” Walsh whispers. “But I’m guessing he’s fucked up as usual.”
“See, what I remember,” Mike continues, “is that, after she started going out with Walsh, you kept flirting with her behind his back.”
Colin laughs, shaking his head. “Bud, that’s not kosher, even when you’re twelve.”
A cold shiver rolls over me and I watch Mike. I’m suddenly thinking there’s mote to this than simple professional jealousy.
“Yeah, you know, it was a long time ago and we were kids, Mike, so I don’t really remember exactly how it all went.”
“Huh,” he replies. “I remember it real clearly. Walsh went on spring break with his parents and you spent the whole week calling Samantha, trying to get her to go out with you. And wait! Didn’t I see you with her at Kyle’s Big Burger one day? You two were sharing a Coke I think. It was so romantic—in a twelve-year-old cheating kind of way.”
I can’t believe he’s such a prick. I did eat lunch with Samantha one day, but only because we’d run into each other at the burger place. Our mothers knew each other and were sitting at the table next to us. And yeah, I talked to her on the phone because she’d called me wanting to know when Walsh was going to be back.
Walsh’s hand is clenched in his lap now, and I can see his fingers flexing and unflexing. It occurs to me that one of the reasons Walsh may have been so easy to be with all these years is because he was drunk much of the time. There’s an underlying anger to him right now that I’ve never noticed before. He gives Mike a hard look. “Mike. Enough. Whatever did or didn’t happen when we were twelve is stupid and no one cares. Quit being an ass.”
“Yeah, we’ll see,” Mike answers enigmatically before he goes back to talking to the roadie next to him.
“I did not try to date Samantha while you were out of town, I swear,” I say to Walsh, feeling as much like a twelve-year-old as I sound like one.
“Please. You think I’d pay any attention to what he says? Or care what the hell you did when we were twelve? Joss, whatever problems we’ve had this last year, I know you’d never betray me.” He looks me in the eye. “I know you’ve always had my back.”
My heart freezes and then shrivels inside my chest. I almost can’t breathe because the pain is so sharp. I put my fist to my chest and press down, trying to stop this thing that has me in its clutches, crushing me bit by bit. I swallow once, hard.
“Yeah, man, and I always will,” I say. At least from now on, I think to myself.
Walsh nods and we eat the rest of our meal in silence.
When I was a teenager, I was fascinated with Arthur Miller, the playwright. I liked the dude because he was this tall, nerdy white guy who’d managed to get Marilyn Monroe to marry him. It always seemed to be proof of some sort of divine justice in the universe. Whenever I was feeling like I didn’t fit somewhere, I’d think of Arthur Miller and dream about finding my own metaphorical Marilyn someday. As it ended up, rock and roll is my Marilyn, and of course I’ve come to realize that marrying her has its own set of problems.
One of the quotes from Miller that I’ve always remembered is, “Betrayal is the only truth that sticks.” Walsh said the word at dinner and now I can’t stop it from thrumming through my head—betrayal. As I lie in my bed on the bus after dinner while we barrel across the miles of bleak highway, I can’t help but wonder if Miller was speaking to me when he said that. More and more, the years of friendship between Walsh and me—the thousands of hours of laughter, the millions of shared experiences, the hundreds of times we looked out for one another—seem to come down to one essential truth—I slept with the love of his life. It can’t be undone, yet it undoing everything that came before it.
I can hardly look at Walsh or think about him without my ultimate betrayal coloring the picture. I’ve come to realize that this is my punishment. I am caught in a web of my own making and I will never be free. When I took Tammy th
ere that night, I committed an act that is for life. There is no way to resolve it. No way to assuage the guilt, no way to make amends. If I tell Walsh, it will destroy him. If I don’t, it might destroy me. And as for Tammy? I don’t how much of what happened is playing into her behavior at this point, but I know for damn sure she’s not the same woman she was before I got ahold of her.
These thoughts and the concurrent guilt are keeping me from seeking out Mel tonight. We haven’t talked since we got on the bus in Denver, and even though I crave her warm presence—the only thing that makes me feel hope at this point—I can’t bring myself to go find her. So I lie in my bed and try not to feel quite so wrecked.
Eventually I doze off, and the next thing I hear is the quiet click of the latch on the door to my room. A small figure enters the dark space and climbs onto the bed with me.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hi,” she says. “Is this okay? I can go back to my bunk if you’d rather—”
“Shhh, stop it,” I tell her. “Of course it’s okay. Better than okay. I’m sorry I didn’t come find you. I just sort of needed a breather for a few minutes and then I fell asleep.”
“It’s fine. I wanted to wait until Tammy and Walsh went to bed anyway.”
“Yeah?” I readjust my arm under her and play with the ends of her hair. “And how are they?”
“Well, you saw more of him than I did. She’s, um—” Mel sighs deeply then lays her hand on my chest. My heart surges to meet her palm. “There’s something going on with her that’s about more than us, Joss. Walsh says she hasn’t been the same since he got out of rehab. It’s like she’s terrified of losing him or something. I think the whole deal hit her a lot harder than any of us knew.”
I rub a hand over my jaw, wishing I could scrape away the sick feeling that coats my soul like I can scrape away whiskers with a razor. Instead of replying, I roll Mel under me and kiss her, laving her lips with mine, using her soft curves and smooth skin to force the guilt and the pain out of my head. If only she could force it out of my heart.