When it came time for the acoustic set, I almost bailed out. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t cry, but I wanted to….I really, really wanted to. In a way, I felt as if I was saying goodbye and I wasn’t ready.
I chose Blue October’s Calling You to start off. Dillon may not want me, but I would always want him. I would always care what happens to him. From there I slowed it way down and sang a Country song. This was not normal for me, as Country was not my favorite genre. However, when I was pregnant with Amelia, I found myself listening to more and more of it, especially the ballads. I had chosen Jerrod Niemann’s What Do You Want for tonight because it spoke to the deepest layers of my hurt. After pausing for a sip of water, I sang Heart’s No Other Love. I knew I could never do a band like Heart complete justice, but I could damn well try. Each song tonight was carefully picked. Yes, for Dillon, but mostly as an outlet for my pain.
I didn’t want to leave without addressing the audience. That would be rude. Did I want to speak? No. Regardless, I knew it was the right thing to do.
“I want to thank you all for allowing me to play tonight. My last song is by a badass female artist you’ve probably heard of. Her name is Pink and this is Glitter In The Air.” The crowd roared as I closed my eyes and began playing. When the song was over, the place went wild. That’s when my emotional dam finally broke. Bolting from the stage, I ran into the back office where I could finally let myself cry. That’s where Cas discovered me.
“You were amazing tonight,” he said from the doorway.
Ducking my head, I tried to hide my tears. “I’ll be out in a second,” I shakily told him.
I heard the door click shut and felt the sofa shift as he sat down next to me. “Want to tell me about it?” he quietly asked.
“No,” I managed to choke out. I glanced up into his eyes and his sad expression mirrored mine. Without a word, he pulled me in and wrapped his arms around me. Like a ninny, I completely fell apart. Who knows how long we sat there, him holding me and me sobbing in his arms. When I was done, he waited for me to get cleaned up and then we talked. I told him every sordid detail, from the moment I met Dillon to now. I left nothing out. He knew just what and what not to say to me. At some point, Kurt knocked on the door and Cas was kind enough to take care of it. The few times I asked him about himself, he brushed me off by telling me tonight was about me, not him. When we were done talking, it was late and I needed to get home to Amelia. Cas walked me out to my car.
“We all have demons, Isabella. Dillon loves you, but until he fights his and wins, he will do nothing but hurt you. Trust me.” He leaned over and kissed me on my forehead. “I’ll stop by tomorrow and take you and baby girl to lunch,” he said. Then he shut my car door and walked away. For all the things that didn’t happen tonight, I was grateful for the one that did.
Chapter Fourteen
Dillon
‡
Isabella Fisher is a beautiful woman, but when she sings, she is fucking spellbinding. Glancing out at the crowd, I bit back a growl of frustration. The entire front row was filled with leering assholes. It didn’t help Ibby was wearing a skin tight polka dotted dress with heels that showed off her mile long legs. Her hips shook with the beat as she strutted across the stage, while her feminine fingers worked the frets of her hot pink electric guitar. I wanted her. Fucking hell, how I wanted her. This past week had been complete and utter shit. And now, because I’d let her go, I had to sneak around like some sick minded stalker just to get a glimpse of my woman. As I listened to her pour her hurt out on the stage, I doubted myself again.
After telling Piper what Adam and I had discovered in Charleston, she sabotaged my plans to hide out alone and drove me to her therapist, Dr. Parker. My previous experience with a shrink, when my aunt made Adam and I see one after we’d moved in with her, had been a joke. All the lady had done was force me draw a bunch of shit on a piece of paper.
Dr. Parker, or Parker as I call him, helped me gain some much needed perspective. Don’t get me wrong, my head is still all kinds of screwed up, but I can’t deny, I felt better after talking to him. He told me it would be a long road, but things would get better if I stuck with it. After the first session, Piper ran errands. I had to blow off steam. That’s when I remembered Gage mentioning how he wanted to build a deck off the back porch. Looking for something to do besides worrying about how screwed up my life was, I drove down to the hardware store, picked up some wood and spent the rest of the afternoon building a deck.
The shocked expression on Gage’s face as he stepped onto his almost finished deck later that afternoon was all the thanks I needed.
After changing out of work clothes, Gage helped me get the rails secured. By the time Piper arrived home, we had managed to drag three living room chairs onto the new deck and were enjoying a beer. To say Piper was surprised is an understatement. If I’d known how happy this would make her, I would have done it a hell of a lot sooner. Gage ordered us pizza for dinner and we ate it out on the deck. After dinner we got shitfaced. I wanted to call Isabella, but what would I say? One decent session with a shrink didn’t change the fact I had murdered my father. Nothing would.
Tuesday morning I woke in a world of hate. My gut and head ached from the alcohol and my chest felt as if a lead weight was pressing down on it. Even though I had distanced myself from Ibby over the past week, I always knew where she was and what she and Milly were doing. Now that I was here and they were there, I was in the dark. All I wanted was for them to be okay.
Around mid-morning Tut called to tell me about what had happened at Dragonfly the night before between Dana and Isabella. What is Dana thinking? Piper was right when she warned me my scare tactics were not going to work. The bitch was completely out of control. More and more I found myself focusing on her instead of the things I needed to focus on, like getting my shit together. Speaking of losing focus, what was Cas up to last night? Does he have a thing for my girl? I made a mental note to have a little chat with him later. As soon as I hung up with Tut, I called Kurt and told him to take Ibby off the schedule for the rest of the week. I didn’t want her anywhere near Dana. My head may be all kinds of fucked up, but one thing is for sure. I love my girls and will protect them…no matter what.
Wednesday afternoon, I spent two hours with Parker. He helped me work through the years before we moved to Virginia. We talked a lot about music and how I originally used the guitar as my escape from the turmoil my parents caused. I had almost forgotten how much time I’d spent locked in my room playing my guitar, until I found myself talking to Parker about it. As we worked through that time in my life, I began to recall more and more things about my mother. For instance, how she used to pick us up from school looking all glammed up and drive us to a large house with iron spiked gates lining the front driveway. For months we went to that same house. Adam and I used to argue about why Mom wouldn’t let us go inside with her. He thought it was a movie star’s house and I thought it was Batman’s secret lair. Neither of us would ever in a million years have guessed the truth.
“Do your homework, boys. If you need something, you’ll just have to wait. This is a very important client. Whatever you do, do not ring the doorbell. I’ll be out in a bit,” she told us. I hated sitting in that damned car. It all seemed so innocent at the time. Bullshit, that’s what it was.
Piper and Gage were amazing hosts. Not only did they take me in, they accepted the situation for what it was and didn’t pressure me to talk about it. Wednesday night, we hung out on the deck and I mostly talked about my aunt and Adam, while Piper told funny stories about her brothers. Gage talked a little, but not much. In the end, it wasn’t what was said as much as it was the comfort of having people to share with. The whole time we were out there, all I could think about was how much I missed Isabella.
During Thursday’s session, I started to explain my inner conflict about Ibby and Milly. Apparently Parker wasn’t ready for me to go there yet, because he steered me away from Isabella and into
answering questions about Adam and my guilt. Coming to terms with the fact I hadn’t just killed my dad, but I had killed Adam’s too, was excruciating. By the end of the session, Parker convinced me the only way I was going to get past my feelings of guilt was to talk to Adam about it. He felt as if a couple of group sessions would do us some good. In the car on the way to Dragonfly, I gave in and called Adam. It was the first time we had talked since Charleston. I expected him to be pissed and was surprised when he wasn’t. I was equally surprised when he jumped at the idea of coming to Charlotte. By the time we hung up, we’d made plans for him to arrive on Sunday afternoon.
That evening Kurt called to inform me Isabella had just been in his office. He screwed up and forgot to call and tell her she had been taken off the weekly schedule and she was livid. When he told me she had threatened to quit if he didn’t let her play Saturday night, I couldn’t help but smile. That’s my girl.
Of all the days since I’d walked out on Ibby, Friday was the worst. I woke up in a foul mood because I wanted Isabella. It had been over four days since I’d seen her, but it felt like years. Ibby had no idea I’d found excuses to stop by the house and see Milly this past week. Sarah and Sally were onto me but I didn’t care. Every time I appeared, they would pretend to have shit to do. Then they would ask if I minded hanging out with Milly for a bit while they ran errands. No matter what, they always left me with a list of what Isabella or Milly needed done around the house. I was happy to help out. However, the best part was getting to spend time with my baby girl.
The more I tried to push Isabella from my thoughts, the more she invaded them. My fucking gorgeous girl. After Charleston I made it one week before finagling a way back into the bed with her. The dreams had been brutal. For some reason, when she was lying next to me, they stayed away. I convinced myself if I didn’t touch her, it would be okay. Bullshit. All I could think about was touching her. In fact, I wanted her so desperately that, like a dumb ass, I drank half a bottle of bourbon with Kurt and Harry after work Sunday night. I thought it would dull the ache in my chest as well as my pants. It didn’t. If anything, it only made it worse. Harry gave me a lift home and the second I entered our room and smelled her perfume, flowers and citrus, my dick shot to the ceiling. No more excuses, I had to have her. I don’t remember much about that night, but the one thing I do remember is how good it felt to bury myself deep inside her. Without a doubt, she and Amelia were all I needed in this world. I knew they were it for me. I also knew they were better off without me.
Friday’s session with Parker was rough. We discussed the calm before the storm and what the year and a half before Mom died was really about.
“At one point in our talks, you claimed the time right before your mom died was the happiest you’d ever seen her. Looking back now with adult eyes, do you think she was truly happy, Dillon?”
I’d been doing a lot of thinking about my parents over the past week. When I couldn’t sleep, I would lie in bed and think back. The only time I stopped my thoughts was when they took me to that night. I had been forced to go there with Parker time and again and wasn’t eager to return there on my own. As I reflected on Parker’s question, I realized something. My parents were rarely in a room alone together. Mom was always decorating or on the phone, while Dad watched sports, played outside with us or was away for his job. They didn’t go out together unless it was to a work or school function and then they always came home early. When I was anywhere near Isabella, my fingers twitched to touch her. I couldn’t wait to get her alone. I wracked my brain, trying to remember if I’d ever seen my parents kiss and couldn’t. I shared all of this with Parker.
“I remember walking past the guest bedroom time and time again and seeing the bed unmade. I always wondered who had spent the night and why I never saw them leave,” I told him.
“Did you ever ask?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged.
“Do you think it is normal for a twelve year old boy to feel responsible for his parent’s happiness? Would you want your twelve year old son or daughter to feel responsible for your happiness?” The thought of Milly having to worry about me the way I had worried about my mother made me sick to my stomach. “I can see from your expression the answer is no. I need you to do something for me. I need you to stop connecting your mother’s unhappiness with your past actions, Dillon. She wasn’t unhappy because of anything you or Adam did or didn’t do. And, even though she laid all of her problems at your father’s feet, her unhappiness wasn’t about him either. It was about her. Your mother was unhappy with herself and the only person who had even a remote shot in changing this…was her. The sooner you realize and accept this, the better off you will be.”
Parker’s words dredged up a wealth of unanswered questions. Did I feel responsible for my mother’s happiness? Maybe I did. His words stayed with me long after I walked out of his office. Your mother was unhappy with herself. Not you. Not Adam. Not your father.
Instead of driving to Dragonfly or back to Piper’s, I drove straight to MMG. I needed to get drunk and I knew just the guys to do it with. When I walked in, Max was busy restoring an old Corvette, while Gage was building a custom bike. Max took one look at me and knew I was in a world of hate.
“I’ll be done in thirty. I just bought an eighteen year old single malt and it has your name written all over it. It’s in the bar. Save some for me,” he instructed.
I passed Gage on the way to the bar and he gave me his customary chin lift. “I’ll catch up with you two as soon as I get this engine built,” he told me.
Pulling out three tumblers, I set them on the bar and poured each of us a glass. Snagging mine, I made my way out to the back patio and stared up at the sky. I thought back on my day. Then I thought about my session with Parker and Adam on Monday and how I dreaded it.
Max appeared outside with his glass a half hour later. “Wanna talk about it?”
“I am all kinds of fucked in the head. I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” I told him.
He tapped his glass against mine. “You aren’t the only one fucked in the head, brother. Trust me.” This surprised me. I thought Max and Ellie were doing well.
A few minutes later, Gage joined us.
The second we all relaxed into our drinks, Max started laughing. “Women are so much trouble, but they are so damn worth it.”
Before I knew it, the bottle was gone and the three of us had a nice buzz. That’s when Gage decided to break out more Scotch and Max cranked on the music. The last thing I remember was singing old Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash tunes with Max before face planting on one of the spare beds upstairs.
This brought me to tonight and Isabella. The house was full. Kurt told me last week he might have to hire a bouncer for Saturday nights if she continued to pack it in this way. As I stood on the sidelines and watched my woman work the hell out of the guitar, I couldn’t help but be proud of her. Her rendition of Soma was so damn good it made my chest ache. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she strutted across the stage and shook her sexy ass all over the place. Neither could the guys in the front row. Tendrils of hair spilled from a fancy looking bun, which left her shoulders and arms bare. Way too much skin was on display and it bothered me….really bothered me. I began searching for something to cover her with but all I could see was the rug. Somehow I didn’t think she’d appreciate me throwing the decorative rug over her shoulders right before I picked her up and hauled her off the stage. Her choice in music let me know how pissed off she was, and the raw pain in her voice told me how deep the hurt went. Still, she was absolutely mesmerizing. As she headed back to the stool, I could see tears glistening in her eyes and, once again the doubts took over.
What am I doing? I love her. Why am I hurting her this way?
Because she deserves better.
Thoughts of wanting her, but not allowing myself to have her warred within me and, no matter what I did, I coul
d not calm them. By the end of set two, I was ready to get down on my knees and beg for her forgiveness, especially when she sang Glitter In The Air. The raspy, sexy sound of her voice, paired with her pain was too much. Then she finished the song and immediately bolted from the stage.
Shit! Where did she go? Fuck it. All I could think about was getting to her and making sure she was okay. Quickly, I slipped down the back stairs. There were only two places she could be, the bathroom or one of the two offices. As I rounded the hallway to the offices I stopped short when I spotted Cas.
What the hell?
I watched Cas slither into Kurt’s office. That fucking snake! I was three seconds away from barging in and ripping him a new asshole when I heard Ibby crying… because of me.
Lashing out, I slammed my fist into the wall beside the door. It hurt like a motherfucker, but it made me feel marginally better. I stood at the door feeling hopeless and shredded as listened to the woman I love cry to another man…. I should be the one comforting her. After what seemed like forever, I heard footsteps heading down the hall and decided I’d had enough. If she wanted Cas, she should have him. The thought of someone else with Isabella made me want to hurl, to fuck shit up. Once again, I drove back to Pi’s place. She and Gage were out, but they’d left a brand new bottle of bourbon sitting on the bar. Pouring myself a stiff one, I grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and headed out to the deck where I proceeded to ice my hand and get nice and fucked up. It’s a whole new world and I fucking hate it.
I woke Sunday morning in the upstairs guest room and wondered how in the hell I’d gotten there. I remembered drinking on the deck and Googling guitar notes for Soma. I printed them out and, as soon as I mastered it, proceeded to finish the entire bottle of bourbon. The last thing I remember was pissing in one of Piper’s planters because I was too drunk to make it inside.
One More Time (MMG Series Book 3) Page 18