Had To Make You Mine

by Kat Long

  If a bomb had exploded on the green, I wouldn’t have been able to look away. Guilt swirled across my vision, but I held in it. This wasn’t about me.

  “I went straight to the bus station. Thank fuck, I had my phone and a little cash. I called my best friend, you remember? The one I went to music camp with every summer. Her father answered, and I was blubbering, barely able to string together a sentence. He got me a plane ticket that night to them. I had something like four layover stops, but I left everything. You, my friends, and all of my things except what I was wearing. A fucking blood-stained polo.”

  “They told me you refused to grow up, to go to college, and that you only wanted to play music. And me, the perfect son, believed them.”

  “I swear to all the gods if you start with that pity, whoa is me, I’m so sorry bullshit, I will stop and not tell you anything else! They screwed us up both so bad I’m surprised we’re normal. We both could have tried harder.” He pounded his fist on the small table, causing it to shake and several people to look our way. Meghan appeared with another round of drinks, dropping them off tentatively and walking away.

  Warren pointed at my beer and said, “Drink, and tell me about your girlfriend before I finish my sob story.”

  I couldn’t help but smile when I thought about my Blue.

  “Warren, man. I’m a fucking goner. She’s it for me. I know it. And gorgeous. She makes me want to do better, be better. You’d like her. We’ll have dinner this week. I wish you could meet her tonight. I’m so proud of what she’s done.”

  “Count on it, Maxie. I always wanted to go on a double date with my big brother. But not tonight. We already have plans.” He clasped his hands over his heart and batted his eyelashes like an idiot, and I almost snorted my IPA. Damn, I’d missed him.

  Our food came, and we took time to eat and watch groups walk in from the eighteenth hole, both absorbed in our thoughts. He finished his Po-Boy and reached over, grabbing a handful of my fries and stuffing them in his mouth.

  “So anyway,” he started, spraying pieces of sweet potato in my direction, accidentally on purpose. “I moved in with them and started working part-time, taking night classes in creative writing and editing until I got my degree. Then I overdosed, went to rehab, got married, and currently am living happily ever after with two cats and a goldfish from a County Fair Tay won three years ago. That goldfish was a buck and is now the size of a fucking baseball.”

  “Nope. Nice try. Remember, I walked in to find a yoga instructor balls-deep in my now ex-fiancé. Tell me all the dirty details, let me apologize one more time, then let’s move the hell on and plan that double date.”

  I raised my hand for another IPA and took my last fry from his plate.

  “Fine, douche. You asked for it. I moved in with them above the garage. Her and I started the band we always talked about, and I got to know her family. Things were great, really great, Maxie. But then they weren’t. I got depressed. I was done with Chicago, done with our parents, and pissed at you. Pissed at them. I think it was two years after I moved in that I broke my ankle. Nothing serious, I just tripped walking down the steps, but I got a prescription for pain meds.”

  Warren met my eyes, and they got glassy. Hell, mine did too. This is what I needed to hear. The noise from the bar faded out, and I gave him my full attention. Meghan dropped off my last beer and the check. I gave her my card without a glance.

  I held my breath and his voice got quiet as he went on, “When the meds ran out, I started drinking. It was easy enough with our band playing every weekend. I had so much anger, so much resentment. Nothing helped, not even therapy. The pills numbed it all and made everything bearable. No one noticed. When the pills ran out, two beers turned into a six-pack before we even went on stage. Then straight liquor and anything else I could get my hands on. One show, our last show, I bought some pills from some random guy at the bar. I took a handful before the show and passed out on stage. It messed her up pretty badly. Tay too. After that, her parents checked me into rehab. I didn’t realize how fucked-up I was. But Maxie, you want to talk about an amazing fucking family. They were waiting for me the day I got out. They saved me. She saved me. Tay saved me. I got my shit together and started dating Tay. He got a job out of state, so we moved to Georgia. Things are good now.”

  Warren stood up as I finished my beer and motioned for me to follow, but then paused and looked behind me, cocking his head at someone. I turned around but only saw the back of a blonde guy’s head disappear behind a corner. Turning back to me, he shrugged his shoulders and put his hands in his pockets.

  Scribbling my signature on the receipt, we walked to my truck, and I threw him the keys. He got in and moved the seat back with a sigh before he pulled out of the club. My head was buzzing, and something was pushing at the edge of my thoughts, something familiar. It reminded me of when I first met Annaleigh, right before I realized she was my new assistant.

  “I’m sorry, War. Sorry for everything. For not realizing sooner the shit our parents pulled, for not answering when you reached out, for not being there when you went to rehab, and for not being there when you got married. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make it up to you, but you, us, we’re brothers. I’ll never make that mistake again.”

  “I know you won’t, Maxie. Now, are you ready for your surprise?”

  “Yep. Hit me.”

  “You’re meeting her and her family tonight.”

  “I’m what?” I said, wondering if the beer had affected me more than I thought.

  “She lives here, and the bar we used to play at is here too.”

  “She lives here? This is where you lived? How did I not know that?”

  Warren turned the radio up and tapped along to Anderson East while he drove.

  “Well, bro-tato, there’s a lot you don’t know. But no more,” he said, reaching over and punching me on the shoulder. “Right. So tonight. You, me, Tay, and her family at her Uncle’s bar. You’re going to listen to your little brother’s band play, and you are going to meet her. I’d set you up if you both weren’t with other people.”

  Stopping at a red light, I stared out the window, then back at Warren, hearing him talk but not listening to his words. The beers were stronger than I thought, or maybe I was seeing signs everywhere too. Warren was still talking, and I turned to him, feeling sick as the realization pushed its way through the beer and took root in my brain.

  “When I talked to her the other week, I got the feeling she was screwing her new boss. She works at a bank downtown, keeping all the executives in line. Help me razz her, will you? Her voice gets all squeaky when she’s mad. It’s hilarious. Oh, and when we’re done with the set, y’all are going to get drunk, and I am going to take very incriminating photos to be used as blackmail one day.”

  I was speechless. There was nothing left to say and only one thing to ask, and I already knew the answer. Swallowing harshly as Warren pulled onto the street in front of my house, I asked, “What’s her name, Warren?”

  “Oh. Annaleigh. Annaleigh Mackey.”

  You have got to be fucking kidding me!

  - 25 -

  GLIMMER OF FADING LIGHT

  Annaleigh

  Leather pants.

  Why in the world did I think leather pants were a good idea?

  My size eight ass was screaming, and I looked in the mirror before peeling them off and throwing them in the back of the closet. The oh so soft spandex pleather leggings with pockets that glimmered in the light called my name, and I shimmied into them without having to hold my breath. My purple tank top that had: Stay Humble or Be Humbled written in big block script matched perfectly, and I tied the look together with tall black boots and heavy-handed, dark makeup.

  Baxter was on the bed, halfway sitting on a stack of letters from Bird. I pulled one from under him before popping one last slice of orange in my mouth. D
ifferent last name. It wasn’t the same person. It couldn’t be. Bird’s last name was Smerdon. And his brother was Mark or Matt. Something like that. Not Max.

  The name was in one of these letters. I’d look later or ask Bird tonight. Duh. This was the Universe’s way of having everything come full circle. It was not another coincidence.

  Warren. Wren. Bird. It was not the same person.

  Tucking my scarlet lipstick and phone in my pocket, I scratched Baxter one last time, grabbed my JIVA10, and loaded it up before heading to B’s.

  I was so excited I could barely stand it. It’d been too long since I’d seen Bird. I missed his face. I missed his laugh. I missed his voice. I missed my friend.

  I pulled into a parking spot too fast and barely turned the wheels straight before shutting off the engine. My black guitar case was in the trunk, and I slung it over my shoulder and pushed open the door, then straight-up screeched like a girl with front row tickets to One Direction.

  There he was, my Bird. He stood on the stage and absolutely owned it tuning his bass.

  His hair was blonde, shaggy, and longer than I remembered. He was wearing a black mesh shirt and ripped, skinny jeans with several new tattoos peeked through the holes. And oh my god, was his nipple pierced? Yep, I could see the shiny bar. Kinky. His eyeliner was so natural you barely noticed, but it brought out his honey eyes. Familiar eyes.

  Achingly familiar.

  Not missing a beat, he put the bass down and jumped from the stage with his lanky arms open wide. I ran to him and jumped, wrapping my legs around his waist like a python and squeezing for all I was worth. He stumbled but kept one hand on my ass and wrapped the other around my waist, squeezing back tighter.

  “I have missed you so freaking much!” I said, my voice high enough to shatter glass. He gave me one last squeeze before he set me down and clasped his hand in mine, turning me to Taylor so I could give him a huge one-armed hug. Taylor glanced at Bird and raised his eyebrows, nodding in my direction, silently passing something between them.

  I looked between them and said, “What? You two are doing that weird married mind-meld thing.”

  Bird grinned and squeezed my hand, “What can I say, babe. I’m a man in love.” He winked at Taylor. Something was off. They both looked guilty.

  “And I’ve missed you too. So much. We should have done this a long time ago.”

  “Damn straight, we should have. Thank you for kicking my ass into gear in Tennessee. I needed it.”

  “Happy too. After all, even though the love of my life is standing beside you, I can still appreciate a nice ass.”

  “Glad to know your personality is still intact,” I said, and playfully jabbed him in the stomach.

  “Ugh, easy. I work too hard on these abs for you to bruise them. And. Um. A little issue has been brought to my attention that’s going to take you by surprise. I have had a, well, an interesting afternoon. An interesting, awfully long afternoon.”

  “What? You can still play, right?”

  “Play? Of course, I can, better than you, as usual,” he said, poking me back. “But you, honey, need to take a deep breath and turn around. There’s someone you should meet.”

  “Drama much?” I said, keeping hold of his hand while turning around.

  It was… Max.

  What was he doing here?

  He should be with his brother. Smiling, I walked forward with one arm outstretched, but Bird’s hand stayed firmly grasped to mine, pulling me back. Grounding me. As if he knew my world was about to be turned upside down.

  Oh God, it was true. Max’s Warren was my Bird. The color drained from my face with the realization, and I barely heard his next words.

  “Honey,” Bird said, much softer than his usual boisterous voice. “This is my brother, Maxwell Jackson Smerdon.”

  My brain must have done a complete short-circuit and reboot because I didn’t remember sitting down and drinking the amber liquid that was in my now empty glass. Someone was holding my hand, but the hand was clammy and sweaty.

  It was my hand. I was clammy and sweaty.

  If I had opted for the skin-tight leather pants, they would be a permanent part of my sticky body.

  How had we not known? Was I really this closed off and vague to the important people in my life? Did I not share enough to make the simple connection that Max and Bird were brothers?

  Max was the man that made my sweet friend cry the hardest when he showed up at my parent’s doorstep. I could see the pain in Max’s face, like he knew what I was thinking, knew I was there for Bird at a time he wasn’t.

  My heart was beating fast, and my mouth was dry. I pointed to the glass, and more liquid appeared. The thing that had been pushing against my subconscious was now clear as day, and doing a tap dance across my vision, along with tiny black spots wearing top hats and tails.

  My entire body felt like it was nothing but pins and needles, tingling everywhere. Moving my hand to the glass, I brought it to my lips and took a slow sip. I tasted the bourbon this time, and when I put the glass down, I looked up, and my eyes darted between two very important men in my life.

  “Blue?” Max said the same time Bird said, “Honey?”

  “How did we not know? Or maybe I knew.” I said, looking down to see Bird’s hand still in mine.

  “What?” One of them answered. I couldn’t tell which one. Even their voices were similar.

  “It was you.” Max moved his chair closer to me and touched my thigh. “It’s always been you.” His voice was so low I had to lean forward to hear, and his teeth were clenched together with each word spoken.

  “I’m going to go make-out with my husband and figure out our first song while you two sort this out,” Bird said, letting go of my hand and standing up.

  Uncle Bob, Diane, Alex, and Taylor were all on the stage, far enough away that they couldn’t hear, but close enough for me to see the sympathy. Max grabbed the chair between my legs and pulled it swiftly towards him, making me stare up in surprise.

  “You were there, Blue. There when I was too stubborn to be. There when he needed you.” His strong fingers traced my jaw, leaving my skin tingling. I was confused. Max’s touch was calming, but he was also the man that broke Bird’s heart.

  “It wasn’t enough.” I sniffed and picked up the glass again. “I didn’t see the signs. Didn’t know he started using.”

  “You were a teenager. I’d be worried if you saw the signs. We can play the blame game all night, but what would that solve? If Warren can forgive me, and I can forgive myself, you can let go too, Blue.”

  He picked up my bourbon and drank the rest before pouring more from the bottle of Macallan on the table.

  “Hey, honey. Do you want to start by playing Poison?” Bird called from the stage, trying to draw my attention away from the freaking tsunami of a situation. And oblivious to how I was feeling because I didn’t share enough and probably had the emotional range of a teaspoon.

  “Oh, sure. Max has only heard me sing country and jam a little at the office. Let’s start with a song that has me practically dry-humping your leg for the last ninety seconds.”

  “Don’t forget about when you rip my shirt off. That’s my favorite part of the song,” Bird said, wagging his eyebrows

  “Gah!” I stood up so hard the chair fell over and threw my arms in the air. “Don’t be a dick, or I’ll rip that nipple ring out!”

  “Oh, kinky. Does Maxie know about this, you dirty girl?” Bird winked then looked at Max, “Maybe we should have told her this afternoon. We’ve had time to process this. She hasn’t.”

  Bird was looking over me like I wasn’t there and having a conversation with Max, who still had an unreadable expression on his face. But it wasn’t unreadable. It was hurt.

  “All afternoon? All afternoon? Do you mean to tell me you two had known about this all freak
ing afternoon while I’ve been at home stuffing my face with so many oranges I’ll probably sweat juice and wondering when my ass got too big to wear my leather pants comfortably?”

  “Calm down,” Bird called, stepping down from the stage. He came closer, but I held out my hand, and he stopped. Everyone on stage stared at us like some sort of twisted triangle, and Alex lifted a thumbs-up in our direction.

  “Calm down? Oh, my god! You calm down, you stupid flamingo, with your stupid long legs! I just found out the man I am in love with is also the man I swore I would dropkick in the balls one day. Sure. I’ll calm down. Consider this calmed down!”

  I was pacing now, so it took me a minute to process that I’d just admitted out loud that I loved Max. Not to him, and not in a reasonable, calm voice. But I’d said it. Foot-meet mouth. I hadn’t even admitted that to myself. Max was still sitting, calmly, at the table, not facing me. Maybe he hadn’t heard. Please, I hope he hadn’t heard. This was not the time to share that piece of information. I’d prefer to do it when we were naked. Or on a date. Or in a blizzard. Pretty much anywhere but right here. Bird strode up to me in one step with those damn long legs and bent down to stick a finger in my face.

  In my face.

  “Flamingo? Really? You know you suck at nicknames, right?” Bird removed his finger and smiled, standing at his full height and crossing his arms across his chest. He was intimidating and had better hair, but damn it, I was not overacting!

  “I get it, I do, but no need to be bitchy. And honestly, you’re calm compared to how the man, you are apparently in love with, acted earlier.” His voice dropped low when he said in love, giving me hope maybe Max hadn’t heard.

  “Earlier? At least you had an earlier, coming in here all cool and calm. Meanwhile, I have citrus sweat pouring off my boobs and down my butt-crack!”

  “Wow, I never knew I missed so much being into guys. But I promise you, Taylor smells much worse than citrus boob sweat. And I’m kinda into it.” He made a bow-chick-a-bow-wow noise and blew Taylor a kiss.