“I’ve been trying all week, Thorin, but your assistant, or whoever she is, refused to tell you because she assumed I’m a fan.” Reese keeps her composure, but I’m about ready to wring Penelope’s neck.
“FUCK!” I yell, rising to my feet so fast I feel dizzy. “This can’t be happening.”
I turn around, and suddenly find that I’m not alone. Alex, along with the rest of the band, are all in my room, their expressions a mixture of confusion and concern.
“I want to tell you what happened, but please don’t make me do it over the phone.”
I swallow the bile clawing its way up my throat, and Reese adds, “The service is in two days, that’s the longest I could get them to stall it. I needed to talk to you, but this was the only number Ryan had.”
I take a deep breath, but it’s difficult. My chest aches, my lungs refuse to expand, and it feels as though the walls are closing in on me. And then it hits me.
“The baby? What about the baby?”
Another snivel from Reese. “He’s fine.”
“It’s a boy?” I choke out. “They have a son? I have a nephew?”
“Yeah, and they didn’t even get to meet him, Thorin.” Reese openly starts sobbing on the phone and then I feel my own tears running down my face. The last time I cried was at my dad’s funeral three years ago, and the time before that was when I found Reese—I shake my head. If I go down that road right now, there will be no coming back. I need to get it together, the way Ryan would expect me to.
Shit.
Even thinking about him hurts like a motherfucker. What was the last conversation we had? Did I tell him I love him?
“Okay,” I clench my knuckles and bite my fist to stop the onslaught of emotion threatening to break free. “I’ll see you in two days.”
Before Reese can respond, I end the call and throw the phone across the room until it’s shattered into pieces. I let out a scream, and start punching every fucking thing I can find, repeatedly hitting the wall until my right hand is completely busted and covered in blood. The wall has a hole in it, but I don’t care. The guys scramble, and Fletch, being the size of a linebacker and the only one as big as I am, wraps his arms around me until I’m calmer. I rear back, and we fall to the floor with a thud.
“Thorin.” He’s talking to me, but it’s hard to hear because my pulse is a loud thump-thump thump-thump in my ears.
“My brother and his wife are dead.” The words spill from my mouth as if they’re being strangled out of me, tasting like cardboard. They’re a noose around my neck. “I have to go home.”
Alex pulls his hands through his hair, huffs loudly, and Carson and Benji both drop down to the floor beside me. When I look up, their eyes are red, and they’re crying.
Because fuck, Ryan was more than just my brother.
He was theirs by extension too.
Chapter Three
Reese
Maggie hands me another tissue, and places a fresh cup of tea in my hands before joining me at the kitchen island. She was already here when I got home from the hospital, and the moment she hugged me, we sobbed. She brushed my hair, told me it would be okay, and then thanked me for everything I’d done. She wanted to come sooner, but I didn’t want her to have to deal with the memorial service arrangements or worry about seeing lawyers. I thought it would be easier if she came after I’d arranged everything so that she wouldn’t have to. But damn, I was so happy to see her waiting for me on the porch. It’s been an hour since I got off the phone with Thorin, and I’ve been trying to block out what I think he must be going through, but it’s hard. He was a permanent fixture in my life for a long time, my best friend at some point, but telling him about Ryan and Melissa was harder than I anticipated, and I still have more to tell him. I tried like hell to keep it in, for both his sake and mine, but the moment he asked me what happened, it was as if I was reliving that terrible night all over again. And hearing his voice, after so many years, that was my real undoing. He sounded the same, but also different. His voice has a rich timbre to it now that he didn’t have when we were in high school. I look at Maggie, and her eyes are as puffy as mine, but she still looks beautiful with her long brown hair, green eyes, and kind face. Living in Florida has done her good, especially after everything she went through when her husband died. “Are you sure you’re fine with me being his guardian?” I ask. It bothers me that the sweet little boy, asleep in the stroller beside me, still doesn’t have a name, but I’m a mess, and after Maggie arrived, I was an even bigger mess. I didn’t think it was the right time to name a baby. “Of course, sweetheart.” She squeezes my hand, and her expression is the kind a mother gives a child. Loving, warm, affectionate. All the things my own mother tried and failed to be with me. “I know you’re scared, but there’s a reason Ryan and Melissa asked you to be his godmother. They wanted to know that if anything happened to them,” she inhales a shaky breath, her lip wobbling, “that he’d be loved and cared for the way he deserves to be.”
“They must’ve trusted me a whole lot then, considering the childhood I had,” I huff.
“Honey, I spoke to both of them before they asked you.”
“You did?”
“Ryan called me one day, and brought it up. You know he loved you like a little sister, you’ve been part of our family longer than you think, and when he suggested it, I told him you were the perfect choice.”
That surprises me. Maggie knows what kind of childhood I had with my parents, and what I’d done when I was seventeen. Yet, she’s never once judged me, or held it against me. I love her for it, more now than I ever have because she’s trusting me with her grandson. “Besides,” she adds, “I don’t think I have it in me anymore to raise a baby. Lord knows I had enough hell with Ryan and Thorin, even with their daddy’s help.” We both snicker because Thorin and Ryan were, in fact, a handful. Got themselves into heaps of trouble, and sometimes, I’d be right alongside them.“Did Ryan ask you what you thought about Thorin being godfather?”
“Yes,” she deadpans, which makes me snicker. This woman is as honest as the day is long. “Told him he was crazy, not because I don’t love Thorin, but because what kind of life can he give a child when he’s always on tour or making music? I told Ryan to think about it first, because if you decided you wouldn’t want him, he would be Thorin’s responsibility.”
I sigh. “I didn’t think we’d have to have this conversation so soon. Or at all.” It’s a slight change of subject, only because I don’t want to talk about Thorin right now. Seeing him in two days will be hard enough. We have a lot to talk about, too.
“I know, baby.” Maggie wraps her arm around my shoulder, and if I could cry a little more, I would. But I’m tapped out, and I guess she is too. “But, we deal with what we’re given, and sometimes, we have to trust that the good Lord has a plan, even when we can’t see it yet.”
“I’m terrified I’m going to screw this up,” I whisper. “It’s not fair that they’re gone, that they never got to meet their son. They should be here to raise him.” I turn my gaze from the baby, and find Maggie watching me. “How did you deal with it when Uncle Eli died? How did you carry on?” Elijah Decker was one of the best men I knew, and when he passed, I felt his loss as keenly as his wife and sons did. I had a soft spot for him, and him for me too, and I sometimes envied Ryan and Thorin for the dad they had. He was stern, make no mistake, but he was also kind and nurturing, and he adored his wife and sons. He’d done right by them. Taught his boys right from wrong, and most importantly, how to love a woman. “It was hard,” she replies, her eyes glazing over, “but we made a promise to each other that if one of us should go before the other, the one left behind would keep living, instead of giving up. So, that’s what I did. I said goodbye to the love of my life after thirty years of marriage, packed up my things and made a change. That’s how I kept living, and every day, I think about Eli and smile, knowing that he’s waiting for me, but until then, I have a whole lot of life left in me and
I won’t waste it, not a single second. I do wish he’d gotten to meet his grandson though, he would have loved that. He would have taught him all about the horses, how to play football, and tell him about all the stunts his daddy and uncle pulled when they were still in diapers, never mind teenagers.”
I stare at the baby for a moment, and feel my lips turn up. I want to slap myself silly for not considering it before. “Eli.”
“What about him, honey?” When I meet Maggie’s eyes, she looks a little confused.
“I want to name him Elijah,” I tell her. “‘Eli’ for short.”
Just when I thought we were done for the day, Maggie sheds a few more tears. “I think that’s perfect, Reese. Thank you. Amidst all this tragedy, that is the most beautiful gift, and I think Ryan and Melissa would approve.”
“Eli Thorin Decker,” I amend.
“Oh, dear Lord,” Maggie laughs through her tears, “poor child, being named after such a nut of an uncle,” she wipes her face. “But it’s perfect. A strong name, for a strong boy.”
Just then, Eli stirs, and I know he’s either hungry or his diaper is soiled. Imani was right when she said he was an easy baby. Doesn’t fuss, sleeps well, and admittedly, despite the shitty circumstances, already has his grandma and me wrapped around his tiny finger.
“Do you want to feed him?” I ask Maggie. It’s late, but I’m not quite ready to call it a night. My body might be tired, but my mind is a whir of jumbled thoughts. I doubt I’d be able to fall asleep right now.
“If it’s all right with you, I think I’m going to get myself ready for bed. Will you be okay with him?”
“Of course, it’s been a long day for you, I understand you’re tired.”
She gives me a look. “Been a long one for you too, so make sure you also get some rest. No argument, ya hear?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” I smile, and stand to hug her. “I’m so glad you’re here, I’m not sure how much more I could have taken on my own. I got one of the guest rooms ready for you, and restocked your bathroom this morning. There’s a bed in the nursery for me.” I have an identical nursery set up in my house, something Mel insisted on for when they eventually needed me to babysit, but not having Eli surrounded by his parents’ things right now feels wrong somehow.
“Sweet child,” she kisses my cheek, “I’m so grateful for you. I’ll be right upstairs if you need me.”
“Perfect. I love you, Maggie.”
“I love you more, sweetheart.” She kisses Eli on the cheek, and then disappears upstairs while I warm a pre-made bottle. I pick Eli up, and settle in the plush leather recliner in his nursery upstairs. He’s wide awake, and staring at me, his eyes filled with wonder and wisdom beyond his years. But what chokes me up is the trust I see there. Melissa was terrified of becoming a mom, she was worried she was going to be terrible at it, and while I reassured her a million times she would be fine, I finally understand her fear. Because now this little boy is mine in a way, and I’m terrified of letting him down, of letting Ryan and Melissa down. Then I think about what Maggie said, and realize Ryan and Melissa must have seen something in me that far surpasses any fear I might have. I press the bottle to Eli’s mouth, and he suckles. He’s a tiny thing, weighing only shy of five pounds at birth, and only drinks half an ounce of formula per feed, but something in the way he looks at me tells me he’s going to be just fine. We both are.
“I promise you, Eli, your aunt Reese is going to do the best she can, okay? For you, your momma, and your daddy.”
Chapter Four
Reese
I’ve been dreading this day from the moment the reality of Ryan and Melissa’s death had set in. Which, to be honest, only really happened now that I’m in the church— the very same one they got married in—surrounded by what looks like the entire town. Not that I’m at all surprised. Ryan and Melissa were loved by our small community. What I'm not prepared for, however, is the gaggle of fans who have congregated outside the church, all waiting in anticipation of seeing Thorin and his bandmates. To be fair, the majority of them have signs with their condolences written on them, and they’ve all placed flowers on the outside of the wide-set staircase. Some are even crying. I’d been given a heads up the day before by Thorin’s manager, Alex. He called to let me know they would meet us at the church—a small mercy for which I’m still grateful because I’m not sure I would have been able to handle seeing Thorin before today—and had arranged extra security. He’d also sent out a press release announcing Thorin’s loss, and asked that the band’s fans respect their privacy at this time. I didn’t question it, despite the notion being a little odd to me, but now I understand. And I have a suspicion it’s not just the young girls from our town who have come to show their support. With Eli strapped to my chest in a black baby sling, I greet everyone with a warm smile, and thank them for coming. My nerves are skittering around my stomach like ping-pong balls though, and if I’m totally honest, it’s not just about saying goodbye to my best friends in the most final way possible. Thorin’s arrival, which should be any minute now, has me feeling all kinds of anxious and nothing seems to dim that feeling in my gut. When I look down, I see that Eli is fast asleep, which is good. It means I’m managing to keep my anxiety, and sorrow under control. I’d called Imani the night before, worried about how to go about getting through a memorial with Eli. I couldn’t exactly google How to get through a memorial service with a newborn without feeling like a complete, and utter idiot.
“Honey, that baby will feed off whatever you’re feeling, and as hard as it’s going to be, you have to be strong,” she’d said.
Strong. How the hell am I supposed to pull that off today of all days? Calm I can manage, thanks in part to the anti-anxiety medication prescribed to me earlier this week, but strong? That feels like a tall order. I’m busy greeting some people when there’s a commotion outside. I look up just in time to see three black Range Rovers pull to a stop in front of the church, and my heart lurches straight into my throat. The crowd outside goes a little wild, but not so loud as to be disrespectful, as each band member steps out. It’s a memorial service after all, and they at least have the decency to keep that in mind. The first to enter is a tall-ish guy, blonde hair neatly cut, and dressed in a pristine black suit that looks custom made. I immediately assume it’s Alex, the band’s manager. Hot on his heels is a demure, blue-eyed red-head, dressed in a simple black wrap dress, and open-toe Louboutin heels. For some reason, I suspect she’s the bitch who kept me from speaking to Thorin all week, assuming I was a damn groupie. My hackles rise, and then there’s a hushed silence falling over the entire crowd of people inside. But Thorin isn’t the first to walk inside. It’s his bandmates, Benji, Fletcher and Carson, all immaculately dressed in three-piece suits. They all played football together in high school, and I knew of them, but had never really known them. Not that they would have given a girl like me the time of day, anyway. They ran in different social circles, and when Thorin became friends with them, he ran in those same circles. Inevitably, that left me on my own. Before everything happened with Ryan and Mel, I never bothered with Thorin and his band. I didn’t care what they were doing, or where they were, but when their manager had the decency to call me and introduce himself, I decided to google them out of reluctant curiosity. Apparently, not only had puberty been kinder to them than it had to me, it appears that time itself has been kinder too. They’re all well-built, tall, and have certainly filled out the way most men do when they get older. They all have that ‘Small Town, Home Grown Texan’ thing going on, with the broad shoulders, tapered waists, and well-developed biceps that only come from playing football and working on a ranch every summer. It’s only Carson who’s on the slimmer side, but he still holds his own against his bandmates. Maggie notices Thorin, and all but runs to him, launching herself into his arms before breaking out into a sob. His lips move as he whispers something in her ear, and then she’s hugging his bandmates. It’s then that Thorin lifts his head, and his ice-bl
ue gaze lands on me. He’s just as well-dressed for today, minus the vest, and good god, he looks good. My first instinct is to look away, maybe move closer to the throng of people gathering towards the middle of the church and away from the cold coming through the doors, but my traitorous, disloyal feet stay cemented to the ground. He’s the same boy I grew up with, shared secrets with, and yet he’s not the same boy at all. He’s all man now, his jaw more defined than I remember, the planes of his face perfectly carved out. His mane of thick, brown hair is neatly tied in a man-bun, and his jaw is lined with a light dusting of a beard. If refined ruggedness wasn’t a thing before, he’s sure as hell made it one. The only thing that hasn’t changed, though, is the shade of his eyes, or the way they make my stomach do somersaults like it’s an Olympic sport. He always had that affect on me, and in the two days since we spoke, I’ve prayed I wouldn’t feel that again when I eventually saw him. But then again, I’ve prayed that losing Ryan and Mel has all been a nightmare, and that too fell on deaf ears. I’m still staring when someone in front of me clears their throat, and the air leaves my lungs in a whoosh when I see Jessica Ashwood standing in front of me. If I thought seeing Thorin again would be a shock, this is so much worse. Why she showed up is beyond me. She didn’t know Mel, and Ryan made it clear on several occasions that he couldn’t stand her, despite her many efforts to get him to go out with her before moving on to Thorin. Which means she only came for one reason. Instinctively, I straighten my spine, and crane my neck to look her in the eye. This girl made my life a living hell in high school, but she’s also Thorin’s ex-girlfriend. She was the cheer captain, student body vice president (only because Thorin was president), prom queen and all round super bitch who put Regina George from Mean Girls to absolute shame. With long, platinum blonde hair, lucid green eyes, and the body of a runway model, she’s everything I’m not, and when we were at school together, she made a point of reminding me of that fact on a daily basis.
Under The Same Sky (Horseshoe Bay Book 1) Page 3
