Catch Me When I Fall

by Jackson, A. L.

  Melanie shot me a wry grin. “Look at her, Mabel. She has literal hearts in her eyes.”

  My mama smiled slow, looking at me with question and worry and hope.

  I glanced between the two of them.

  “I love him,” I whispered the declaration into the air.

  It was the easiest one to confess.

  I turned my attention to my mother, having the compulsion to give her the admission. To let her know that this meant something.

  She gave a slow nod. “Oh, sweetheart, I could have told you that.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “It was written all over you the second the two of you walked through the door yesterday. You’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve, and it was bleeding all over the place.”

  I nibbled at my lip, trying to quell the emotion I could feel rising up, the questions that came in waves.

  Reminding me that I wasn’t close to having all of this sorted.

  That I was still a mess.

  That I still had to face Cory tomorrow night.

  Maybe that would be the biggest obstacle of all.

  “It scares me . . . to let myself feel this way again. I hardly know Royce,” I said, unable to stop some of the worry from oozing out.

  My mama held my face in one of her hands as she angled her head to meet my eye. “All that matters is that your heart is listening to who he is, sweet girl. Time has no bearing. Circumstances no relevance. The only thing that matters is that you’ve looked to the inside.”

  “I worry I keep missing the important parts.”

  Mama frowned. “You can’t judge yourself over Nile. You two fell in love young . . . and it was always an innocent love. Easy. The two of you didn’t know anything different, and you grew apart rather than growing together.”

  “I know that. I know what I feel for Royce is real, and I know what he’s feelin’ is real, too. There’s no mistaking that.” I hesitated before I let another flicker of worry climb free. “There’s a tiny part of me worried that Royce might have gotten swept up into the craziness of the band. That maybe he sees me onstage, and that’s the woman he wants.”

  The girl who hungered to stand in the spotlight.

  Soulshine.

  Is that what that meant?

  What he saw in me?

  Because the man was so much larger than life. A force that commanded a room. Money dripping from his pores.

  But I felt it—something so much deeper. That dark creativity that billowed and shook and shivered through me every time I was in his space.

  “I just want him to want me for me. For the simple girl from South Carolina and not the girl who is gettin’ ready to sign with his record label.”

  Mama frowned. “You think he wants you for your money? For what the band can bring to the label?”

  My frown was deeper, contemplation and worry and questions winding through. Rejection of the idea hit me hard. “No . . . I . . . don’t think so. I mean . . . I’m sure he’s worth so much more than I will ever be.”

  At least, I thought so. Another thing I didn’t know about him. The only thing I knew was we had been his purpose, Carolina George’s name on that dotted line.

  I guessed the real problem was I felt something lurking way down deep in Royce’s spirit.

  The ugliness he’d warned me about.

  The baggage he hadn’t given me insight into.

  It was the part that made me tremble in fear.

  Question everything. If I was racing into all of this far too fast.

  “God, I’m a mess right now.” I let go of a self-deprecating chuckle.

  Light laughter tinkled from my mama. “Right now? That’s called life, sweet girl. It’s always messy. And believe me . . . the best things in life are forged in the fire.”

  “And that man is flames.” Melanie ticked up a smirk.

  Shoving all the concerns down, I swatted at her. “I swear, you are gettin’ your status revoked.”

  She gasped and turned her phone out at me. “Not a chance. Then I wouldn’t be able to wear this.”

  There was a dress on the screen. Cream-colored, made of a wispy material, plunging at the neckline with a slit running up one side. The bridesmaid dress as gorgeous as could be.

  I scowled at her. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I told her.

  But it was that feeling balling up in my chest, a want unlike anything other, that warned me I was already there. So far ahead of myself that I no longer knew what direction I was going.

  I was a fool if I thought I could slow this down.

  The kitchen door banged open, and Richard strode in. “Good mornin’.” He went right for our mama, dipped down to kiss her on the cheek. “How’s my favorite girl?”

  Mama blushed, then clucked her tongue. “She’s just fine with all her babies under the same roof. But don’t you think it’s about time you found yourself a different favorite girl?”

  There was movement at the door, and this time it was Royce carefully pushing through, as if he were treading water, not sure what he was going to be walking in on.

  A suit.

  He’d opted for one of those perfectly fitted suits, dark just like the man.

  I thought maybe my mama whimpered under her breath.

  Apparently, he had that effect on people.

  Melanie hummed the wedding march under her breath.

  Those stormy eyes met mine.

  And I knew . . . knew I was ready. That I was gonna get on that stage tomorrow night. I was gonna sing proud and loud and with all of me, and then, at the right time, I would tell Royce I was ready.

  I’d make it known.

  I was going to take Cory down. I just prayed he wouldn’t take Richard down with him when he went.

  Mama smacked her hands together to break up the intensity. “Breakfast is ready. Let’s gather at the table. Call your brother and your daddy and tell them to come in. They’re out at the barn tending to the horses.”

  Melanie and I helped Mama fill bowls full of bacon and eggs, a basket full of biscuits, and a boat full of white gravy.

  We set the overflowing dishes on the table, while Richard and Royce grabbed plates and silverware and situated a place setting at each spot.

  God, that was cute, and Royce Reilly pulling off something cute was nothing but a crime. A danger to my senses.

  Because having him rough and raw and soft and sweet meant he was everything.

  Linc and Daddy came in, stomping off their boots in the mudroom and washing their hands at the sink. When they made their way inside to take their seats, Daddy clapped Royce on the shoulder in a clear show of support.

  Assuring him he backed his actions.

  Everyone gathered around the table.

  Though this time—this time Royce pulled out the chair next to mine and settled into it. When he pulled my hand into his lap under the table and threaded his fingers with mine, I blew out a contented, satisfied sigh.

  And when my daddy bowed his head to say grace, I squeezed Royce’s hand, giving thanks that Royce was the man meant to stand at my side.

  Twenty-Two

  Royce

  It’s funny how when you spent years of your life hungering for one thing, entirely focused on one objective, you were still kind of shocked by the anxious disturbance that roiled through your spirit when you realized all that work and effort and hate was getting ready to culminate.

  The soul-wrenching thirst to see it through.

  To finish it.

  Defeat had never been an option.

  I sat on the couch on the bus with my attention wrapped up in my phone, on the message that my stepfather had sent, biting at the inside of my cheek and trying to see through the rage that clouded my sight. Distorted my senses.

  Loathing thicker than it’d ever been.

  Fitzgerald: You’re off. I’m coming to Nashville to see to it that Carolina George signs.

  Bitterness spun through the deepest part of me, a vat of ve
nom and a moat of hostility. My teeth clenched as I tapped out a response.

  Me: They don’t trust you.

  His return was almost instant.

  Fitzgerald: And I don’t trust you. I want you out of this equation. The plane will be waiting for you in Nashville at five to bring you back to L.A.

  Me: I’m sorry, but it’s too late now. There is no going back.

  It was no apology. It was a warning of what was to come. The storm that had been howling and building, assembled like an army, was getting ready to touch down.

  It struck me.

  That flash of energy.

  A bolt of intensity.

  A burst of light.

  Emily.

  Emily.

  She’d become the thunderstorm.

  I lifted my head so I could watch her climbing the tour bus steps, a river of blonde, curled locks that billowed and bounced around her shoulders, the girl in a flowy tank and fitted jeans and a mile of long legs.

  Lust fisted my guts, all coiled up with the mess that she’d made of my heart. Cracking it right down the center.

  Taking all the parts she shouldn’t have been allowed to have.

  She stopped in front of me, wearing these strappy heels, girl standing over me like a teenaged boy’s wet dream.

  A perfect fantasy.

  Smooth skin and perky tits and a waist that perfectly fit the span of my hands.

  She lifted a coy grin. “You’re in my seat,” she said in that sweet drawl.

  It was the same accusation she’d made the first day I’d climbed onto the bus, when I’d had no clue where it was taking me, though there’d been a part of me then that had already known I was diverting paths.

  Shifting gears.

  Or maybe I’d just been on the wrong road all along, and I was finally finding my way.

  “Is that so?” I let the rough tease wind out of my mouth, and I shifted back on the couch, draping an arm over the back of it as I looked up at her.

  Playfulness ridged her mouth. “That’s so.”

  Faster than she could brace herself, I reached out and snagged her around the waist. Emily squealed as I pulled her down onto my lap and wrapped my arms around her.

  Tight.

  Giggles ripped free, she threw her arms around my neck, her legs draped across my lap, the girl sitting sideways all tucked up to my chest. She smiled at me with one of those smiles that hit me like a landslide.

  My heart raced a frantic beat.

  It was the first time I’d touched her like this. Right out in the open.

  I let my gaze trip around the band sitting around the bus. Every single one of them was staring back. I met their stares, tugged her tighter, knowing I was making a statement.

  Mine.

  This girl was mine.

  And I wasn’t going to let her go.

  Didn’t give a fuck what anyone had to say about it.

  From where he sat opposite us at the table, Richard lifted his chin, acceptance and a warning.

  Rhys turned to Leif and smacked his open hand onto the table. “Told you, man. Pay up. One hundred bucks.”

  “Shit,” Leif grumbled, digging into his wallet.

  “Pssh.” Melanie huffed and waved an indulgent hand. “You deserve to lose all your money if you didn’t see that one coming, Leif.”

  I hugged Emily closer as the bus rumbled out of the hotel parking lot.

  Couldn’t even be pissed at Rhys.

  He was right.

  This girl was worth betting on.

  * * *

  “This is it.” I squeezed Emily’s hand when I felt the nerves rustle through her delicious body where she sat beside me in the limousine that was filled with all the members of her band, plus Melanie and Leif’s wife, Mia.

  Thrill and dread vied for predominance in Emily’s spirit, and I leaned in, murmuring in her ear, “Are you ready?”

  Emily squeezed my hand back, trying to breathe through the agitation. “As ready as I’m ever going to be,” she whispered, peering out the windows at the crush of people who were gathered behind the ropes, holding signs and hoping to catch sight of their favorite celebrities.

  Musicians and actors and the famous for being famous.

  But tonight?

  One of their most loved was going down in a blaze of infamy.

  “Holy shit,” Rhys muttered under his breath. “Do you see all those people? Think all of Nashville is out there. Probably half of Hollywood, too.”

  Richard roughed a palm over his face to break up the stress.

  The pressure intense.

  Tonight, there was no room for mistakes.

  I knew that better than anyone.

  Leif pounded his fingertips onto the tops of his thighs, drumming an out-of-control beat I was pretty sure was in sync with the racing of his heart. “We’ve got this, guys. Just . . . take a deep breath.”

  “Hell yeah, we do. World’s about to know how awesome we are.” Rhys proclaimed it, but his voice was subdued.

  Awed.

  Like maybe he was just then accepting the reality of it.

  Sure, Carolina George had amassed a dedicated following.

  But this?

  I knew it was unlike anything any of them had ever witnessed other than through the screen of a TV.

  Performing at the ACB Awards was considered the pinnacle of success.

  The height of achievement.

  A stage for the most sought after. The one with the most smash hits and the most dollar signs.

  And Carolina George had been invited to play before they’d even signed a major record deal.

  The one coveted spot for up-and-coming talent was hard to score.

  Carolina George deserved it.

  No doubt.

  I just wondered what that prick had manipulated to get them there.

  Richard cleared his throat.

  “Want to say something before we go out there. We have given our entire lives for this. Given years to fighting for this. We’ve been broke. Destitute. Close to homeless. It’s cost us relationships. It’s taken a toll on our minds and our bodies. I know it hasn’t been easy. But I want you all to know . . .”

  His gaze bounced around to each of them. “I want you to know I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else. Couldn’t. Carolina George is the four of us. Together, we’re magic. Remove one of us, and we wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. You all make this band what it is, and I’m goddamn grateful for that.”

  Rhys lifted a fist in the air before he stretched it out toward Richard. “No one else I would have gone along for this wild ride with, brother. You led us to something great. Now we get to revel in this awesomeness together.”

  Blowing out an emotional sigh, Richard leaned forward and pressed his fist to Rhys’s. Leif leaned in and did the same, his eyes jumping around at the band. “And we’re just getting started.”

  Their attention shifted to Emily. She cast me a tender smile before she eased forward.

  “I can’t wait to share this with you all. You . . . you are my family. The ones I can trust. The ones I’d give anything for. I’m so proud to be a part of this band. So proud to be Carolina George. So proud I get to stand up there and share this with you.”

  “Thank you for doing this, baby sister,” Richard said, his voice thick. “I know you weren’t sure this was the direction you wanted for your life. But I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure this is the life you want to live. To right anything I’ve made wrong. I promise you that.”

  Her smile turned somber, and she glanced back at me for a beat. “I don’t think I’d want to be anywhere else.”

  My insides clanged. A fucking fierce urge to make those promises, too.

  She pressed her little fist to theirs.

  A four-pronged star.

  My chest clutched, this girl shining the brightest to me.

  Joy and pride lit up their faces.

  Wholly deserved.

  I just prayed it fucki
ng worked out in the end. That I hadn’t made the wrong choice. Ended them before they ever had the chance to really begin.

  Rhys jerked his head at Melanie. “Mells Bells, get your ass over here. You think we coulda done any of this without you nagging our asses all day long?”

  “Asshole,” she mumbled.

  “You know it.” He grinned.

  She scooted forward just as the limo was rolling to a stop at the curb. The next in line.

  They all looked out the window, knowing things were about to get real, before they all looked back to each other, their fists united. “A song is nothing but a dream. And we dream out loud,” Emily told them like it were their mantra.

  The limo door swung open, and Richard stepped out to cheers that were no doubt going to grow after the world got a taste of them tonight.

  Like Richard had said, they made magic.

  It was no lie.

  Rhys was all cocky arrogance as he slid out, already a rock star in his mind, celebrity to the bone, tossing out his dimple and his smile as he swaggered down the carpet. Leif ducked out, quiet the way he was, stretching out his hand to help his wife climb out.

  I slipped out and then reached back in to extend my hand to Emily, who accepted it.

  Lush legs exposed, tanned and shined up for the night, she stepped out in her super short dress. A dress that was a black sequined swath that hugged every curve of her body. Showed her off like the star she was.

  Stunning.

  Staggering.

  Could feel the crowd take note. Certain she was someone remarkable even if they didn’t know her name yet.

  They didn’t get yet that she was everything.

  I clutched her hand as we stared down the crowd that made their way to the massive music theater.

  Emily shivered, nerves making her back go ramrod straight, her spirit swamped in hope and apprehension.

  “You look amazing. Fucking incredible, Emily. Talented beyond measure. Beautiful and kind. You are stopping the entire world in its tracks right now. You have this. But if you need me? I am right here, baby. I won’t let anything happen to you. You don’t have to be afraid.” I whispered the words into her ear as she struggled to find her footing, her courage where she stood at my side, staring down the red carpet like it contained a field of land mines.