From the Dark (Fading to Light Duet Book 2)

by Sarah Cole

  ***

  I knock on Charlie and Andrew’s bus door, before I let myself in. Fallon is painting with finger paints while Charlie is trying to shovel some scrambled eggs into her own mouth. Andrew is just sitting there staring at his wife and daughter with a look of wonderment on his face, and I can’t say I blame him. The man is damn lucky. I’m just happy he realizes it.

  “Hey, man.” Andrew greets me with a friendly smile.

  “Hey.” I say, slapping him on the back.

  “You didn’t come by after the show last night.” Charlie says barely glancing up from the plate she’s inhaling.

  “Jeeze! Slow down, Miss Piggy.” I joke and she smiles sheepishly.

  “Sorry.” She shrugs. “But really, I waited up for you for a while. I thought you said you wanted to write.” She says, and I kind of feel bad for blowing her off. We’ve started jotting down ideas for our next album, and she’s a way better writer than we are.

  “Sorry. I decided to take a walk, and besides, I figured you two would be busy.” I say, poking my finger through the hole I’m making with my other hand. I waggle my eyebrows suggestively, garnering an eyeroll from her.

  “Well duh. When you were a no show, I had to do something with my time.” She says, and I look at Andrew who’s now wearing a proud grin, and I punch him in the shoulder.

  He looks at me and shrugs, “Well I am certainly not complaining, so thank you for standing her up.” he laughs.

  She smiles sweetly and slides her glasses back up her nose. “Are you sure that you standing me up didn’t have anything to do with a certain bubble gum haired bombshell that you can’t stop staring at? Don’t think we all don’t notice, mister.”

  “Pshh… I mean, I may have seen her when I was walking around, but it wasn’t like I intentionally sought her out or anything.”

  “Right.” Charlie scoffs, “And the sky isn’t blue.”

  I duck a bit and peek out the blinds. “If you want to get super technical, it’s really more of a hazy gray today…”

  She dips her fingers in the paint brush water and flicks it at my face before standing to take her plate to the garbage.

  “Smart ass!” she jokes.

  “ASS! ASS!” Fallon parrots.

  “Way to go, Mom!” I say giving her a hard time.

  “God! The one-time I slip up!” she sighs heavenward. “And it’s all your fault!” she accuses turning away after slapping me in the back of the head, hard. Before she can get to far, I grab her around the waist and haul her back to me so I can tickle her because she absolutely hates it. I mean, like peed her pants in high school one time, hates it.

  “Oh my God. No!!!! Get the hell off me!” she yells while laughing as I tackle her on to the couch, continuing my assault. Typically, now is when I would begin my version of spit torture. We call it spit boarding, but instead I decide to wing it, as I reach for Fallon’s finger paints dipping my fingers in and swiping them down the middle of her face.

  “It is done! You are one of us now!” I say in a booming voice, imitating a tribal ritual.

  “You’re such an idiot! I have no idea why I continue to be your friend.” she laughs, and I move to sit on her for more torture when Andrew stops me.

  “Careful with her, man.” He drawls, giving me a pointed look. I back off, and just as I’m about to ask what’s going on, the door opens and I lose my train of thought as my heart begins to hammer in my chest.

  Leni:

  I knock on Charlie’s bus door, but get no answer. I have to go over some things the tour promoters need in lieu of the recent changes. I hear laughing and commotion inside, so I decide to let myself in. I open the door to find Jay straddling Charlie’s legs and holding her down on the leather couch, her gorgeous face covered in green paint. What the heck did I just interrupt?

  Everyone stops and stares at me and I feel incredibly awkward all of a sudden.

  “Umm… well, I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” I say, looking around nervously and starting to turn away, when Andrew waves me off with a huge tattooed arm, shaking his head and returning his focus to the medical journal in his hand.

  “These two are just twelve-year-old potty mouths; nothing new.” He chuckles not looking up.

  “ASS!” little Fallon screeches, and Charlie slaps Jay on the side of his head.

  “Hey, you said it not me! If you slap me in the head again, I’m not going to remember who you are. God knows, I’ve already killed enough brain cells.” he laughs, getting up to sit across from Andrew.

  “Hi, Leni! What can I do for you?” Charlie asks, sitting up. She’s trying to be professional, but it’s kind of hard to take someone seriously who’s wearing polka dot pajamas and has a face full of finger paints.

  I stifle a laugh, “Well, I had some promotion ideas for you from the tour, but you might want to wash that off before it stains.” I point to her face.

  “Oh oops! I’ll be right back!” she laughs heading to the closet sized bathroom.

  “Good morning, Sunshine!” Jay says, smiling brightly in my direction.

  “Hi, Jay. How are you this morning?” I ask.

  “I can’t complain. I had the sweetest dreams last night.” He says, winking at me. I smile back with butterflies in my tummy.

  Andrew looks up glancing between the two of us with a smirk on his face and shakes his head. Jay shoots him a glare and just as I’m about to ask what it’s all about, Charlie makes her way back into the small common area.

  Charlie, Jay, and I spend the next couple hours going over some promotional material. I’m stunned by how skilled and market conscious these two are about the industry. It explains a lot about how wildly successful they’ve grown in a short period of time. They simply know what people want, and they deliver it on an epic scale.

  I’m packing up my laptop and samples, when Jay says, “I’m starving. You guys want to go grab some lunch somewhere?”

  Charlie looks at Andrew, and they smile at each other before she responds to Jay.

  “Actually, I think I’m going to lay down for a bit. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  Jay glares at her, before silently pleading with Andrew. “You in man?”

  “Nah, I’m gonna sit this one out and stay here with my girls.” He smiles a wide smile and Jay looks panicked, his eyes darting back and forth between his two friends.

  Is the thought of being alone with me that unappealing to him? I decide to put him out of his misery. I have a lot of work to do anyways.

  “I don’t have to go, if that helps.”

  Jay’s attention snaps back to me, and he almost looks angry with me for suggesting it.

  “No… we’re going. You’re going.” He says in a tone that leaves little room for negotiations. Alrighty then.

  I don’t argue, as I finish collecting my things and he guides me down the steps with his hand spread across the small of my back, sending my nerve endings into overdrive.

  ***

  We decided on just grabbing hot dogs and junk food from vendors and walking around the venue. Jay had to go incognito and tuck his hair up into a baseball cap and throw on some sunglasses. Luckily he has only been spotted a couple times, and people have been pretty respectful. That’s one of the craziest things I will never understand about these metal crowds. They look like the roughest, toughest, scariest group of people, but everyone is always super respectful and friendly for the most part. I think it’s because everyone is just here to share the love of music.

  Surprisingly enough, there hasn’t been a lull in conversation, and I’m really enjoying myself. We haven’t exactly delved into deep meaningful conversation, but we have ascertained that we both share a love of fruity candy and were both extremely saddened that the green Skittles are now green apple flavored instead of lime. Also, we’re both allergic to cats and despise small dogs. Since we covered those basic, important facts, we have now moved onto embarrassing stories.

  “Ok, so, most embarr
assing thing to happen on stage. Aaaand Go!” I laugh, signaling for him to spill his story.

  “Ok, well one of my favorites is one we all were just talking about the other day because it was just too good. Brenden puked on stage. I suppose backstory helps.” He laughs, before continuing on.

  “Charlie seriously is the best cook on the planet and she’s like a mother hen, always forcing us to eat solid meals instead of gas station food and crap… so Brenden like loads up before a show… and it’s like a hundred degrees. We are only four or five songs into the set, and he just blows. Seriously everywhere. There was like an audible groan from the pit. I swear to God, no less than ten fans got hurled on. It was all over YouTube. God, poor guy.” He laughs shaking his head.

  “That’s disgusting.” I laugh, and he nods his agreement.

  “But my most embarrassing moment happened a few years ago, when I showed an entire club my crown jewels.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I fight back my laughter.

  “Nah, its ok. You can laugh. It’s online, but I think they blurred it out. Seriously, it was in Metal Magazine’s most cringeworthy stage moments.”

  “How’d you manage that?” I ask.

  “Oh. I was paying homage to the great Mitch Lucker and doing the Lucker Stomp, but my pants ripped right up the crotch. I was going commando because they were so tight my boxers give me visible panty lines. Is that a thing for guys? Because I totally feel like it was a thing for me. Well that, and boxers tend to bunch in skinny jeans. Hello world, is that a breeze?!” he sings.

  “Oh my gosh!” I cover my mouth, hiding my huge smile. “That is seriously tragic. Not only for you, but that poor audience.”

  “Oh come on… it was the show of a lifetime. I doubt they’ll forget about the time they got a concert and a strip tease.” He shrugs nonchalantly and I can’t help but laugh again until my cheeks hurt. I seriously don’t recall the last time I smiled this hard.

  chapter 4

  Jay:

  “Give me your hand.” Leni says, holding out both of hers, and I eye her skeptically, my brows furrowing, before offering her one of my hands. She takes my large one in her smaller soft hands and turns it palm up. My heart hammers double time at her touch. We’ve been walking around and talking for hours now, but there’s honestly nowhere else I’d rather be.

  I watch her; study her, as her fingers follow the lines of my hand and she smiles, blowing out a small huff of air that brushes across my palm. She’s beautiful, and I don’t think she even realizes it.

  “What?” I ask.

  “See this line here? Oh, and this one?” She traces her index finder down the middle of my palm, and I shiver despite the fact that it’s the middle of summer.

  “Well, this is the line of fate or success, and yours is long.”

  “What’s that mean?” I ask, genuinely intrigued now.

  “I’d say it’s a good thing because, see?” She holds her palms up to my face. “I don’t even have those!” Her excitement radiates off of her, making her shine brighter than anything else in my world.

  “But this one is the line of head.” She taps another line, taking my palm again, studying it.

  “It’s long and prominent. Tells me you overthink and analyze things to no end, but you have a lot of imagination.”

  I nod in agreement, and she continues to trace the lines softly, reigniting the fire inside of me that I thought was extinguished a long time ago.

  “This is your life line, and lucky for you, it’s long.” She looks at me and smiles shyly, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear. She looks down again. “This is your marriage line. It shows you will love deeply, and the relationship will be happy and long.”

  That I know, is a complete load of bullshit. My chance at that kind of love died years ago with Abby. I know it. Yeah, maybe my thoughts are irrational. Deep inside my head, I know I can love again, but it’s easier for me to say I can’t rather than to figure out how. I need to move on, but the very thought of it scares me. Leni scares me.

  I don’t want to forget my Abby, and everything that we had together. That kind of loss, the depression, the drugs, and the drinking have not only affected my well-being and life, but the lives of those around me. So, with the knowledge that I’m dragging down everyone I love with my metric ton of issues, I decided a few days ago, to finally talk with a therapist about my shit, and I found myself a sobriety sponsor. I’ve been fully clean for about a year now, but as much as I’d like to think I have myself under control, I know I’m one bad day away from a possible bender.

  “What else can you see?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the heavy thoughts that burden me. I won’t let myself believe that my question is just because I can’t stand the thought of Leni letting go of my hand.

  “See these little lines here on the edge?” She pokes at the three lines on the side of my hand with a pale pink fingernail that matches her hair perfectly.

  “Mmmhmm.” I nod.

  “Those are family. Three children.” She says softly.

  “Do you believe any of this?” I ask, my thoughts still stuck in the past, a sick feeling gripping the pits of my stomach.

  “I honestly don’t know.” She laughs. “My mother in law taught me all about it, and she swears by it. Says she’s never been wrong-” she stops abruptly, freezing up, and I’m sure it’s for the same damn reason I feel like I want to destroy something.

  “You’re married?” I bite out, pulling my hand away from hers, and standing up.

  She looks like I just slapped her in the face with my harsh tone, and while I feel bad I put that look on her face, I’m pissed as hell right now. Nothing is a bigger turn off for me than disloyalty.

  “No.” She whispers so softly I almost don’t catch it over the bustling sounds of the back lot.

  “But you said…”

  “I know, but I’m not married. Not anymore, at least.”

  “How long?”

  “How long was I married, or how long since it fell apart?” She asks, sounding irritated, and I suppose I deserve it after I nearly jumped all over her case a second ago.

  “Both, or neither. Honestly, it’s none of my business. I’m sorry.” I say sitting back down, realizing I’m being a major dick to her. This seems to be my default these days when I get upset about something.

  “Sam and I got married the week after we graduated high school. We were married for barely five years, and it’s been just over a year since the divorce was finalized and I took back my maiden name.” She says clinically, like it’s been practiced on repeat.

  “I’m sorry, Leni. I don’t know what happened, but I know going through a break up like that isn’t easy; so, for that, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s OK.” She isn’t very convincing with her heavy sigh.

  “Honestly.” She continues, nudging my shoulder with her own. “Jay, it taught me a lot about love and life. Made me answer questions about myself that I’ve been needing answers to for far too long.”

  “How so?”

  “It taught me that not everything in life is going to be something beautiful or unbreakable… something that lasts forever. Sometimes you love people or meet people in your life that are there to teach you what is right and what is wrong, to show you who you can be, to fill a void, or just someone to keep you company until you find where you’re meant to go. Not everyone is going to stay with you forever, and as much as it hurts when you part ways, you have to keep moving ahead and just thank them for being a part of your life and for loving you, even if it was for just a short time.”

  Holy shit. It is like she just opened up a window to my soul and fanned the flames a little bit. I don’t know what happened in her past, but somehow, even if only on a small scale, I think she can relate to what I’m struggling with. She has this uncanny ability to say just the right thing at the right time, making me look at the world and this mess I’m dealing with in a new light. Leni gives me…hope, but that’s the most dangerous drug of
all.

  “Thanks, Sunshine.” I say, tossing my arm casually, or not so casually, around her shoulder and pulling her into a side hug. She smells sweet like vanilla and lemon; like a sunny summer day.

  She shrugs, “I can’t change what already happened, but I do get a say in the future and what happens there.”

  When she says that, she makes it sound so easy. I hope just an ounce of the strength she has inside of her rubs off on me, because if I’m going to beat these demons that I’m battling, I’m going to need it.

  Leni:

  I hate that I slipped up and mentioned my mother in law. Well, ex-mother in law. I honestly just used the palm reading as a lame excuse to touch him in some way, but it kind of backfired. It forced me to admit to things I never intended on sharing. I haven’t spoken to my ex mother in law once since Sam and I finalized our divorce. Not for lack of trying on my part, but apparently, it was my fault that Sam cheated, and therefore, I became insignificant to her.

  The look on Jay’s face would have been almost comical if not directed at me. Whatever though, I’ve made the decisions I have in my life for a reason, and I can’t change them now. So, I learn and I deal, and anyone in my life will have to accept that.

  “You are something special, Lennon Taylor.” He says, looking at me intently.

  “So are you, Jameson Collins.” I smile.

  He leans closer as he lets the backs of his calloused, tattooed fingers trail down my cheek, and I lean into his touch. It’s been a long time since I have been touched with such tenderness, such affection, that it jump starts my heart and sends my nerves into overdrive. He leans forward, our shallow breaths mingling, and just as his lips begin to brush mine, we’re startled apart by someone approaching.

  “Jay! Man, we’ve been looking everywhere for you. You too, Leni!” Brenden calls, with Aaron trailing behind him; both wearing concerned looks on their faces.

  “What’s going on?” Jay stands up quickly, and I follow, trying to put some space between us, but his arm circles my waist, pulling me closer.