Wicked Love (Wicked White Series Book 3)

Home > Romance > Wicked Love (Wicked White Series Book 3) > Page 15
Wicked Love (Wicked White Series Book 3) Page 15

by Michelle A. Valentine


  I don’t admit to her that deep down I was hoping that I would see her too because I’m not sure how she would react. I still haven’t forgiven myself for her father’s death, and if I can’t do that, how can she possibly forgive me? On top of all that, I ran in her greatest moment of need. No matter what my personal reasons were for doing that, I’m ashamed I put my own fears ahead of her needs. I wasn’t strong enough to stay and face her. I caused her pain and then made it worse by running. I don’t deserve any kindness from her.

  “Do they have any idea where the guy went? I mean, I’m sure they have to have some leads. It’s not like one of the biggest stars in the world can just go into hiding—staying undetected. He’s pretty famous to not be recognized.”

  I sigh. “You would think that, but neither Jane Ann nor the cops have any leads on his whereabouts.”

  Avery frowns. “Do you think it’s possible that he’s dead?”

  “God, I hope not. I don’t really get along with the guy, but I wouldn’t wish anything bad to happen to him.”

  She tilts her head. “Is he close with anyone in the band?”

  I shrug. “Ace doesn’t really get along with anyone in the band. He’s way too controlling and doesn’t allow anyone else to have any creative input. It’s like he doesn’t trust that we were picked by the label for this band because we have talent too. It’s a shame, really. I think if all the guys ever put their heads together and started creating some real music—not just the canned music they have to record—Wicked White could really be something.”

  “Being the biggest band in the world isn’t enough for you?”

  I shake my head. “It’s not about being the biggest or the best—it’s about creating music that we’re all proud of. Every guy in the band can sing and we all come from different backgrounds. I think we could each bring something unique to the table.”

  “Why don’t you just go out on your own then, since it seems they are stifling you creatively?”

  “It’s not that easy. These big record labels . . . they just don’t hand out record contracts—not to guys like me who are looking for solo gigs. They signed me up for their band, and I figure if I play by their rules for a while, maybe they’ll give me a solo shot down the road.”

  “Makes sense, I guess. It’s like you’re working an entry-level job and just biding your time for your promotion.”

  Her analogy is pretty on point.

  I give her a small smile. “Something like that.”

  Blake downs the last of his beer and sets his bottle on the table. “Shit. I’m fucking beat. I think I’m ready to head home and hit the bed. You still staying with me tonight, Tyler?”

  I nod. “If that’s still okay with you.”

  “Of course it is. What are bros for?”

  “Awesome. Thank you. Seemed too late to go to Mom’s tonight, so I appreciate you letting me crash.”

  Blake stands and then pitches his empty bottle into a nearby trash can. “Sweet. Then I’ll see you there in a bit. You remember where it is?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, cool. Then I’ll leave the front door unlocked for you.” Blake leans down and kisses Avery on the top of her head. “Later, boss.”

  I know I don’t have any right whatsoever, but seeing Blake kiss Avery, even in such an innocent way, makes me jealous as hell. I’ve thought about her every day since I left. I often wondered what it would’ve been like for us if the fire never happened that night. How our lives would’ve been different. I’ve missed her. If I ever admitted how much I missed her, people would probably classify me as certifiably insane since our time together in the past was so short.

  “Later, Tyler!” Blake calls over his shoulder as he heads out of the bar.

  Silence wraps around us the moment Blake closes the door, leaving Avery and me alone in the bar. The quiet is almost deafening and I feel like I need to say something.

  So many times at night I would lie awake and imagine the things I would say to Avery if I were ever given the chance to apologize to her for the way I left her, but right now, sitting across from her, all of the fancy things I’d planned to say won’t come to mind. Instead, I can only remember one word, and I feel like I need to just say it so she knows I mean it.

  “Avery, I’m sorry about how I left you. I was—”

  She holds up her hand, cutting me off. “Tyler, please. You don’t have to apologize.”

  “Please let me do this, Avery. I owe you this.”

  She shoves herself away from the table and then stands, busying herself by clearing off the table. “It won’t change anything, Tyler. Sometimes it’s best just to leave things be. Things were going so good before and now you have to go and ruin it by bringing up old, hurtful memories.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Avery. I was scared and blamed myself for all the bad shit that was happening to you.”

  My career took off so quickly and I got swept up in it. Focusing on the music helped me escape the guilt I feel about Avery’s father and the way I treated her. Music is the only thing that has brought me any joy since I walked away from Avery, which really reinforces the sense that I am supposed to fulfill my promise to Dad.

  “Do you even hear yourself? The fire was an accident.”

  “But it wasn’t! I caused that fire because I left the goddamn lantern burning in the barn and I would’ve never done that if I hadn’t been sneaking around to fuck you. Had I listened to my father—your father would still be alive—and God, I am so sorry for that! At times it feels like I killed him.”

  Avery covers her mouth as tears stream down her face.

  I don’t mean to yell at her, but I’m so overcome with emotion that I can’t seem to control my tone. The therapist I’ve been seeing for the past year—when the guilt of what happened began affecting my everyday life to the point I found it difficult to function—told me that it would be good to have a conversation with Avery. I’m pretty sure my not being able to control my emotions when it did happen wasn’t a part of that plan.

  Truth is? When I think about Avery losing her father, it brings up all the raw emotion of when I lost mine. It was difficult to relive that so soon and it was like losing my father all over again. My head got all confused and I didn’t handle the situation with Avery the way I should have.

  “Stop.” A sob rips through her. “I’ve thought about that night every damn night for the past three years, racking my brain on all the what-ifs. Don’t you think I blamed myself too? We both forgot the lantern that night—not just you—and I’ve been beating myself up over it every day since then. This didn’t happen because your dad cursed us. It happened because it was an accident.

  “I’ve spent so many sleepless nights worried about you—worried about how you shouldered all the blame yourself—but I never heard from you again, so I figured you didn’t need my comforting.”

  My heart is crushed in my chest. Here is a girl who has every right to hate me, and yet, she’s trying to ease my pain.

  “Avery . . .” She presses her fingers to my lips.

  “You don’t have to say anything else. I’ve already forgiven you. I had to in order to forgive myself.”

  “I don’t expect anything from you,” I tell her honestly. “But I would very much like to start over with you and be friends.”

  She stares into my eyes. “We can do that as long as you promise not to run off and avoid me for another three years.”

  A huge weight lifts off my chest. It’s hard to believe the things I’ve struggled with for the past three years are so easy to talk about. Maybe it is because I’m in a much better place now, with a more rational thought process.

  I give her a sad smile. “Deal.”

  She lets out a big sigh of relief. “Now that the elephant in the room has been squashed, how about another drink?”

  “Sure,” I say, but then feel compelled to ask, “Blake won’t mind that you’re out with me so late?”

  She furrows her brow
as she pops the tops on two beers behind the bar. “Why would he care?”

  “Aren’t the two of you a thing?” I’m not sure if I really want to know the answer to that, but I need to know what kind of situation I’ve just walked into.

  If my best friend has been dating the girl who’s held my heart for the past three years and keeping it secret, I might just lose my shit on him.

  She laughs. “God, no. We’re just friends. Blake helped me get this place going and is really my only friend in town. What made you think that we were together?”

  I shrug. “You’re beautiful and Blake—let’s just say I know him. I figured he would try to get with you once I was out of the picture.”

  She walks over and sets my beer in front of me. “Well, you’re right about that. He did try, but I made it clear very early on that I didn’t think about him like that. He bucked the whole idea of being just friends but he eventually came around. He’s a really good guy and I’m not sure what I would’ve done without him for the past three years.”

  I nod, but guilt and jealousy washes over me again. It should’ve been me being there for her, but I’m happy that she had someone. “I’m glad he was there for you.”

  Avery traces the condensation on her bottle with her index finger and for a long moment she doesn’t say a word. It’s like she’s lost in deep thought and her mind is elsewhere. Then she totally catches me off guard. “Would you like to come over for Sunday dinner tomorrow? Granny’s making fried chicken and I think she’d love to see you.”

  Her offer wasn’t one I expected but I’m grateful for the invitation “I’d love to. What time should I come over?”

  “Dinner’s at six, and don’t be late or you’ll have to deal with the wrath of Granny.”

  I smile, and for the first time since I left this town, I feel a little bit at peace over what happened when I left Avery at that motel.

  After I help Avery clean up the rest of the bar, I drive through town and make it to Blake’s house. He’s still driving the same old Mustang, and it’s parked in front of the house. I kill the engine of the Kia rental car I’m driving and head up the sidewalk toward the front door. The knob twists open and it’s unlocked just like he said. All the lights are off, so I just set my bag down by the front door and then lie down on the couch. How exhausted I am doesn’t actually hit me until that moment. Within minutes I fall into a deep sleep and I don’t move a muscle.

  It’s not until beams of light come through the window and shine right in my face that I wake from my death-like sleep. I yawn as I stretch my arms over my head. It’s been a long time since I roughed it on a couch, and I’d forgotten how hard it is for my six-foot frame to fit on one all night.

  I push myself up and balance my elbows on my knees as I scrub my hand down my face. I pick up my cell phone off the floor and notice the battery is about dead as I check the time. It’s after twelve, so I’ve already slept most of the day away. I’ve got to haul some ass if I want to make it over to Mom’s house before I go to Avery’s for dinner.

  I rummage through my bag, find my charger to plug my phone into, and grab a quick shower. I towel off and then dress in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before exploring the house, looking for Blake, who has been uncharacteristically quiet this morning. He’s probably still trying to get in some beauty sleep to calm down that mess of a face from the fight last night.

  The biker took a few good shots before I made it in there to help Blake out.

  I push open the door to his bedroom, and there’s no sign of him. His bed is unmade, but that’s not unusual. I’ve never known Blake to be the bed-making type. The next place I check is the kitchen, but there’s no sign of him there either, so I figure he probably already left for the day. I mean, just because I’m here as his guest doesn’t mean that he needs to report to me where he’ll be all the time.

  After that thought, I head to the living room and collect my duffel bag, along with my cell, and head out the front door, locking it behind me. It’s then I notice that Blake’s Mustang is still parked out front of his house. Now this puzzles me. He isn’t one for riding with others because he insists on driving his baby everywhere.

  I pull my cell out of my pocket and dial Blake’s number, but it goes straight to voice mail. “Yo, Blake, it’s Tyler. Give me a call when you get this. I wanted to see what your plans for the evening were. Later.”

  I end the call and then stuff the phone back into my pocket before jumping into my rental.

  The drive to Mom’s doesn’t take me long, and the moment I pull in the driveway, I immediately feel comfortable. This little yellow ranch house, no matter how old I get or how far away I live, will always feel like home to me.

  I step out of the car and gravel crunches under my boots as I walk the path to Mom’s front door. I twist the knob on the front door, but it’s locked. I furrow my brow. That’s odd. She never locks her doors, especially if she’s expecting someone.

  I knock on the door. “Ma, it’s me. You in there?”

  The rustling on the other side of the door, and then her undoing the locks, tells me she knows I’m out here.

  The door swings open and my petite, blond mother has a grin on her face from ear to ear. “There’s my boy! It’s so good to see you.” She wraps her arms around my torso and squeezes me in a tight hug. “It’s about time you came home to see your mama!”

  I chuckle. “It’s good to see you too, Ma.” I step back and inspect her. “You cut your hair?”

  She flips her short blond locks around with her fingers. “You like it? I thought it was time to change things up a bit.”

  “It suits you,” I tell her and then glance around the house to find that nothing else has changed. I frown when I notice the same furniture that’s been in her living room since I was a kid is still present. “Where’s your new furniture?”

  She waves me off dismissively and heads toward the kitchen. “I told you to stop sending me money. I refuse to spend a dime of it.”

  “Ma, how many times are we going to fight about this? That money is to take care of anything you need.” I follow her into the kitchen, where I’m greeted with the smell of her famous pot roast and my stomach rumbles.

  “Baby, you should be saving your money instead of giving it away.”

  “I’m not giving it away. I want to make sure you’re taken care of. If Dad were here, he would have no problem letting me do this for you.”

  “If your Dad was here, he would’ve whooped your butt for running off like you did in the first place.”

  “I highly doubt that,” I tell her. “He made me promise him that I would get out of this town as soon as I could and go after my music dream.”

  “He might’ve done that because he wanted to see you go experience more than we ever did, but he never meant for you to avoid where you come from. He didn’t want you to avoid this place either. Not seeing your mother in three years is a travesty.”

  I sigh and rub my forehead. My mother is a stubborn woman and when she’s made up her mind that things should be a certain way, that’s how it is. There’s no changing her view. Like now. I know she’s upset with me for not visiting in all this time, but I was too afraid to come back here and face Avery. I wasn’t ready to face the guilt and shame. It took me a year’s worth of therapy to realize that if I didn’t come back here and deal with my past, I could never really move on.

  I offered to fly Mom out to see me while Wicked White was on tour, or even when we spent some downtime at our homes in California, but she always rejected the idea. Mom’s fear of flying limits a lot of things for her, visiting her only child being a crucial one.

  I know the only way to make her happy is to promise to change all that. “I get where you’re coming from, Ma. From now on, I’ll make sure I come out and see you way more often. How’s that sound?”

  Mom smiles. “That sounds like a good plan to me.” She takes the lid off the crock pot and stirs the roast beef around a bit. “Hope you’re h
ungry. I haven’t cooked this much in a long time.”

  “Starving.” I laugh and hug her and kiss the top of her head. “Let’s eat.”

  I spend the rest of the afternoon with Ma, telling her all about my adventures on the road and about the process in the studio when we cut albums. She listens like it’s the most fascinating stuff in the world.

  I’ve missed spending time with her, and she’s right, I need to make sure I see her more often.

  When I glance down at my phone, I notice two things. One, that it’s nearly five thirty so I should head on over to Avery’s place to have dinner with her and Granny, and two, that Blake still hasn’t returned my call, which is unlike him.

  I push myself up from the comfy couch in the living room. “I need to take off. I’m going to go have dinner with an old friend while I’m in town.”

  A knowing smile fills her face. “Would this be the same mysterious someone you used to see a lot before you left?”

  I laugh, amazed at her memory. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

  “Honey, I’m your mother. I remember everything about you.” She hugs me one more time. “Be careful out there. This town has gone to shit in the last few years. The crime rate—well, let’s just say nothing’s safe around here anymore.”

  Her locked door springs to mind. “Is that why you were barricaded in here earlier?”

  She nods. “I’m a single woman, living in the country alone. Can’t be too careful nowadays. Be safe.”

  “Always am,” I tell her as I head out the front door and to the car.

  It doesn’t take long for me to make it to Avery’s driveway. My fingers curl around the steering wheel and I grip it tight to try to ignore the awful memories of the last time I was here. I turn down the driveway, and soon the house comes into view, only this time it’s twice the size I remember it being and it practically looks brand-new. I’m guessing after the fire, this place was a total gut job. The house is wrapped in new white siding while new windows add to the curb appeal. When my eyes slide over, just right of the house where the barn used to be, I’m relieved to see only a patch of grass where it once stood.

 

‹ Prev