by Kat Mizera
His words were like a physical blow and I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to stop the tears. I’d hoped beyond hope that it would be okay, that he’d finally open up to me, but now I was crushed.
“I’m sorry, lass.” He pulled me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me tightly. “I want to. I do. I just don’t know if I can. Will you give me a little time to think about it? To maybe talk to someone, a professional, about all of this?”
I nodded, because I couldn’t formulate a response without sobbing like a baby.
“Please don’t cry,” he whispered against my hair. “I’m going to try, okay? I promise I’m going to try, but until then, it’s better that we keep a little distance, yeah? Give us both time to figure out what we want.”
“Okay.” I was crying, so I couldn’t move, and I stayed pressed against his chest for a long time.
32
Stu
Lindsay and Madeline left late in the afternoon and I felt like the biggest jerk in the world for letting her go. But she needed something I wasn’t sure I could give her and it wouldn’t be fair to string her along. We got ready to leave the hotel not long after she left, though, since we should have been almost to Colorado Springs by now. Our schedule the rest of the tour was a little crazy, going from Santa Fe to Colorado Springs and then over to Salt Lake City before heading north to Canada.
I was still thinking about Lindsay and worried I was making the biggest mistake of my life when Kingston came up beside me.
“Hey, man. I wanted to apologize. I had no idea she was yours or I would never have kissed her hand like that.”
“Sure you would have!” I laughed, shaking my head at him. “But it’s all right. She’s beautiful and you didn’t know who she was. I don’t begrudge her the attention just because I can’t get my shit together.”
“You guys on a break?”
“Something like that.” I lit a cigarette since I hadn’t had one all day and I wouldn’t be able to smoke on the bus.
“She’s beautiful, smart, and successful. Don’t let her go if you love her, because someone is going to snatch her right up.”
“I know.” I took a drag and inhaled deeply before letting it out. “I just don’t know if I can be what she needs. She needs me to bare my soul to her and…fuck, that’s just not me.”
“It’s not me either but what’s the alternative? I mean, I haven’t met the right one yet, so I’m having a blast playing the field, but I’m guessing when I find her, I’m going to do whatever’s necessary to keep her.”
“You have secrets, Kingston?”
“Sure. Don’t we all?”
“Big secrets? The kinds of secrets you carry to the grave?”
“Maybe one or two.”
“Will you tell your soulmate?”
“I think so. It’s hard to say since I haven’t met her yet, but in theory, yeah. Otherwise, how can we truly commit to each other forever? When you hold stuff back, the big stuff, it sits between you like something tangible.”
Bloody hell.
That’s what I was afraid of.
The next night’s show went off without incident since we left right after and went back to the hotel. We hadn’t really done anything wrong at that party the other night, but everyone was now acutely aware of how close I’d come to getting myself into something again. It was okay, though. The show was good, we were getting serious airplay, and despite our worry about touring with Onyx Knight, they were stand-up guys. We were only a month in, but so far we didn’t have any issues and we’d fallen into a routine.
I slept well and was up early, since I had a few calls to make today. I needed to talk to Gran and then see if Madeline could recommend a therapist who’d be willing to do televisits. I couldn’t see anyone in person on tour, and frankly, it was just easier this way. If she knew someone trustworthy, like the psychiatrist Ariel had used before her trial, it would be worth it for me. I didn’t need a psychiatrist, a psychologist would be fine, but I’d talk to anyone she recommended since I had a lot I needed to get off my chest.
I was having coffee when Kate’s name flashed on my screen, and I answered with a grimace because she was probably working overtime to put a positive spin on the news about me at the moment. “Hallo, love. How are you?”
“Handling five billion interview requests!” she snapped. “Why didn’t you warn me something so big was coming?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked in confusion.
“Jesus Christ, do you really not look at your social media?” she demanded.
“Not usually, no.”
“Gavin McIntosh made a statement.”
My chest tightened and my mouth went dry. “What, er, what kind of statement?”
“Okay, I’m going to send you some links via text. I need you to get up to speed and call me back. We have a lot to talk about.” She paused. “Unless you don’t want to retain me to handle this.”
“If there’s something to handle, I absolutely want to retain you. Send over what you have and I’ll ring you back.”
We disconnected and I stared at my phone until the texts started coming through. The first was a link to a video on one of the entertainment sites and I clicked on it warily. The video showed Gavin sitting down with a local Inverness journalist—I didn’t know him but recognized the name—and apparently talking about me.
“Stu Killorn is one of the best men I know,” he said as the interview started.
“I understand you have something to say about the night your friend Freddie Roth was killed.” The journalist waited patiently.
“Aye.” Gavin cleared his throat. “I need to say something first, though. As Waking Wonder got more successful, I got more addicted. Cigarettes, alcohol, cocaine, all of it. I was a fucking mess. The night of the accident, I’d been drinking Jack Daniel’s and snorting coke most of the day. I was buzzed and wired, so I didn’t pay much attention when Freddie started making noises about driving Stu’s new Ferrari. Stu had just gotten it and was a little wary about letting any of us drive it.”
“Why’s that?” the interviewer asked.
“Because we were a bunch of addicts and he knew we’d all wrecked at least one car a piece. Stu wasn’t like that, though. He was more serious, focused on the music, and I don’t think he was ever an addict. Not like the rest of us. He had to walk a line, being one of us but also being better than us, because while I can hold my own, the other blokes, Angus and Freddie, they weren’t as talented. They also didn’t have the business sense, but Stu and I did. My problem was the drugs, though, so all the important stuff fell to Stu.”
“So what happened on the night of the seventeenth of August?”
“Freddie was pissed, two sheets to the wind, and started whining about how mean Stu was. He was kidding, but in that mean, sarcastic way someone who’s drunk can be. Stu was laughing it off, but at one point, I heard Freddie say something like, ‘You just think you’re better than us.’ I didn’t hear all of it, because they went outside and I was pretty wasted, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I figured there was going to be a fight and, you know, like most shit-faced young men, I wanted to see what might happen.” He hesitated and took a drink of water.
“Take your time.”
“Aye. Well, when I got outside, Freddie and Stu were arguing. Freddie was saying all kinds of shit, about how Stu thought he was better, how Stu always wanted to be the boss, shit like that. I don’t remember the details. And then Stu threw the keys at him and said something like, ‘You really think I care more about a car than you? Fine, drive the bloody thing.’ And when they drove off, Freddie was behind the wheel.”
“Do you remember the time?”
Gavin shook his head. “Probably around eight or nine? The liquor store was still open so it couldn’t have been too late.”
“According to the police report, they left the house at approximately eight forty-five and the accident happened less than six minutes later.”
Gavin nodded. “Sounds right.”
“So if you knew this, why didn’t you come forward at the trial?”
“Because I was an addict and afraid that backing up a murderer would just put a worse light on me. It was selfish and stupid, and I know that now.”
“You’re in a twelve-step program?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been clean?”
“About six months.”
“And what made you want to tell the truth now?”
“Partly because it’s a step of the program, to make amends to people you’ve done wrong. And partly because I see what it’s done to him. He went to prison and he gave Freddie’s family a lot of money in the civil suit he lost. It’s not right. People need to know the truth, that Freddie was driving. They were both stupid—none of us should have been behind the wheel—but it wasn’t Stu. And I want him to know how sorry I am.”
“What do you say to people who’ll question your memories of that night, considering how intoxicated you were?”
“There are moments in your life that you remember as clear as a bell. And that’s one of them. We found out within half an hour there had been an accident and I sobered up almost instantly. Angus knows the truth too, but he’s too wrapped up in what we lost with the band, so he won’t come forward. But he should.”
The interview went on for a bit, but I closed it. I didn’t want or need to hear anymore. It was painful as fuck to know that Gavin could have told the truth and spared me years of pain and indignities. Instead, he’d let me go to prison and I was angry all over again.
Impulsively, I reached out to the one person who was always on my mind.
“Hey, is everything okay?” She answered instantly.
It was an hour earlier in L.A. and it was only eight thirty here. “Sorry.” I cleared my throat. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I’m getting ready for work. Madeline and I usually leave around seven thirty, but we worked until midnight last night so we’re leaving at eight instead.”
“Why so late?”
“I was drawing up a brief for a trial she has coming up and then she had to go over it to show me what I did wrong and stuff. It took twice as long but that’s how I’ll learn.”
“Right.”
“So…is everything okay?”
“Have you heard the news?”
“News?”
“Gavin made a statement.”
“What?!” She sounded shocked. “Stu, I swear, I haven’t—”
“I know, lass. It’s all right. I’m sure it took him a while to work up the courage to admit what he did. And didn’t do.”
“Is it online?”
“I’ll text you the link when we hang up.”
“Okay.” She paused. “Are you okay?”
“I’m angry. Not because he brought it up, but because if he’d just spoken up then, he could have saved me so much fucking grief.”
“I’m so sorry, Stu.”
“Can you…” I cleared my throat because I was nervous. “Can you come to me, lass? I really need to see you.”
“I…” She paused. “Let me finish getting dressed, send me the links, and I’ll call you once I’ve spoken to Madeline. Okay?”
“Yes.” I hesitated. “I’ll buy your ticket. Just say the word and I’ll get you out on the first flight.”
“I need half an hour to sort everything out.”
“Right. Talk to you then.”
We disconnected, and for the first time since the accident, I broke down and sobbed.
33
Lindsay
Madeline was startled when I rushed into the kitchen, my phone cued up to the video Stu had sent me.
“What’s going on?” she asked, turning in surprise.
I put the phone on the counter where we could both see it, and hit play. We watched and listened in silence and finally, I turned it off.
“Well, would you look at that.” She was shaking her head. “Poor fucking Stu. What a bunch of dicks he wound up in that band with.”
“They grew up together,” I said softly. “I guess he didn’t know any better.”
“Success changes people. I see it a lot.”
“It didn’t change Lexi.”
“Well, I’m sure it did, but in her case, not in a bad way. You can’t help it. That kind of success, where everyone knows your name, wants a piece of you, and you start making the big bucks; it’s hard not to change. Look at you. You’ve only been here a month but you’re already concerned about your image and you’re increasingly cognizant of the details of your new life. Even little things like wearing heels. I told you it makes you look intimidating, and even though you said you hate it, you’re doing it. So change isn’t always a bad thing.”
“I know.” I looked at her warily. “He asked me to fly out there. I know it’s a big ask but—”
“Go. Remember me and Marty? Go. Make him realize he loves you, Lindsay, because he does.”
“You sure?”
“Don’t ask me again.”
“Thanks.” I turned and ran back to my room to call him.
He was waiting outside of the security area when I got to Salt Lake City. It was mid-afternoon, so I hadn’t thought he’d be here, but he was holding a bouquet of roses and held me tightly when we hugged.
“These are beautiful. Thank you.” I looked up at him and I saw the whole world in his eyes. I didn’t know what was different, but something had changed and I leaned up to lightly press my lips to his.
“You’re welcome. Did you check a bag? We need to get going because I’m going to be late to sound check.”
I shook my head. “Just my carry-on. I’m learning to travel light, especially since I can only stay a few days. Madeline needs me.”
He looked right into my eyes and said, “I need you.”
There didn’t seem to be anything to say to that so he took my hand and we headed for the exit. He called an Uber and we went straight to the arena. He’d brought me a laminated all-access pass and gave it to me in the car.
“That’s good for the whole tour,” he said. “Anywhere we are. So you don’t need to wait for an invitation if you have time to come surprise me.”
“Does that mean I’m going to be coming to visit more often?” I asked softly.
“I hope so.” He took one of my hands and held it between both of his. “I have so much to say and I’m not sure where to start.”
I had nothing to lose at this point, because either he did or he didn’t, and if he was having trouble, I was happy to help. “Do you love me, Stu?”
He turned, his dark eyes meeting mine. “So much, lass. More than anything or anyone I’ve ever loved in my life.”
“Can you say it?”
His lips curved up and he smiled. “Aye. I love you.”
I kissed him, my mouth fusing to his like they were sewed together. My tongue swirled with his, taking deep, erotic pulls, despite the fact that we were in a stranger’s car in the middle of the day. We pulled apart slowly and the passion in his eyes was unmistakable.
“Soon,” he whispered. But we’d already arrived at the arena so there was no time to talk or do anything else as we got out of the car, grabbed my carry-on, and walked through the back entrance together.
“Leave your stuff here with the guys,” he said, motioning to one of the roadies I didn’t recognize, who nodded.
Then he held my hand as we walked into a backstage area where both Nobody’s Fool and Onyx Knight were hanging out.
“Linz!” Lexi jumped up and ran to hug me. “What are you doing here?”
“Came to hang out.” I shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal, but she knew I was joking.
“You’re late,” Tyler told Stu. “Let’s do this.”
“Be back in a few.” Stu pressed his lips to mine and headed off after Tyler.
“See you later!” Lexi called to me.
I smiled, standing in the wings and digging into my pocket for my ea
rplugs.
“So you and Stu are back together?” Kingston came up beside me with a friendly grin.
“I think so. The drive from the airport to the arena was pretty short, but I don’t think he would have asked me to fly out if we weren’t.”
“Well, good for you guys. His gain is my loss.” He winked and ambled off, leaving me tingling a little since he was one of the hottest guys I’d ever met. No one was as hot as Stu, as far as I was concerned, but Kingston came pretty close with his shocking green eyes and golden blond hair. There was something striking about him and I bet he had women crawling out of the woodwork, but I only had eyes for Stu and I sought him out on stage.
He and Ford were laughing about something as they warmed up and Bash was hitting the bass drum over and over, testing the sound. Lexi was talking to Lance and Tyler was fiddling with the strings of his bass. This wasn’t supposed to be my world, yet somehow it had become my everything. My friends, my career, and the love of my life, all rolled into this incredible group of people.
Stu and I still had to talk, but I had faith we would work through our issues. He loved me and for now, that was enough.
Stu and I made our excuses after the show, taking a cab back to the hotel instead of waiting for the others. We got up to his room and he immediately kicked off his boots and pulled his T-shirt over his head. His eyes met mine in the semidarkness since we hadn’t turned on any lights except the one in the bathroom.
“Clothes,” he said softly.
“I thought we were going to talk?” I said, smiling even as I slid off my shoes.
“We are. But naked. That’s when you’re most vulnerable and I need you to be at least half as vulnerable as I am tonight.”
I shed my clothes without another word, watching as he did the same. Then he crooked his finger at me, having me follow him over to the chair by the window. He sank down in it and pulled me onto his lap. He was quiet for a while, simply stroking my thigh and hip with one hand, and then he started to talk.
