Surrender

by Van Dyken, Rachel

  I wore the same red bracelet on my left hand that served as a reminder never to touch drugs again; it was right next to the tattoo on my forearm that had the date of my overdose. I stared it down often and reminded myself that I was here for a reason, and that reason was not to get high and ruin my life a second time.

  Will typically wore his black glasses that made him look more sexy-professor nerd than rockstar.

  Trevor had a shirt that stated I’m with the band that was at least a decade old; it was his go-to.

  And Ty usually recorded shirtless because… Ty.

  And even though Zane wasn’t recording with us, he was producing the track and was playing with a few of the background vocals, overlaying my voice with Will’s, only to take Will’s out. Now if only he’d put on a damn shirt.

  “I have an idea.” He pressed pause.

  “That’s dangerous,” I muttered, earning a glare from Zane, who looked past me to Bronte.

  So yeah, it was rare to bring a wife or a date into our sanctum, but I didn’t want to leave her side. Ergo, she was invited into the fold, and other than a few sideways glances, the guys had no reaction.

  “I think you should sing the second verse,” Zane said. “Your voice has…” He hesitated and looked away. “Let’s just say you do a better job sounding as if you’re still so raw with pain and heartache. It’s more believable than Will— No offense, man…” He waved over at Will. “…but you sound way too damn happy.”

  Will grinned. “I would say sorry, but…”

  “So, what will it be, Eeyore?” Zane leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Extra points if you make someone in here cry.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m going to destroy you bitches.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Trevor chuckled.

  “You fools are gonna have mascara streaking down your cheeks.”

  Zane scoffed. “Lie. Mine’s waterproof.”

  “Damn it, the ONE TIME I use regular,” Ty bemoaned.

  “I’ve never been so disappointed in you.” I shook my head, then got up and entered the booth amidst Bronte’s huge grin and the guys’ continuous talk of makeup.

  We all used to have horrible skin — thus the Will Thermos picture — from all the makeup and sweating on stage. At least now, we could joke about it since our manager no longer made us wear friggin’ eyeliner “to make your eyes pop” and lip tint so the girls could “see your mouths from the cheap seats.”

  Don’t even get me started on the piles of foundation and powder that had graced our faces; it was the stuff of nightmares for a teen.

  I put on the headphones and gave Zane a thumbs up while the rest of my bandmates watched, waited. We’d done this a million times, so why did this time feel different?

  My gaze fell to Will briefly, and I suddenly realized with jarring pain why it felt different.

  If they wanted my soul in this song…

  I would have to bare it.

  All the scars.

  All the pain.

  All of the shame.

  I would have to bare it in front of the guy who used to be closer than a brother, a friend I’d betrayed and then used every justification in the book to tell myself it was okay because I was hurting — because Angelica was hurting — because life hadn’t made sense without both of them in it. When I started to lose parts of him, I’d clung to parts of her, and then when that hadn’t been enough, I’d clung to the high that drugs gave me, the freedom from just a little bit of the pain; but mostly, the freedom from fear that one day both of them would leave me. The sad part was I hadn’t really known myself outside of the three of us.

  Just like I had a hard time knowing myself now.

  I was terrified that Bronte would see I was still badly broken and in need of about a billion years of therapy.

  But it didn’t stop me from wanting her.

  Pursuing her.

  And praying to God, I didn’t somehow break her too.

  I squeezed my eyes shut as the notes to the second verse led me in.

  “Like jagged edges and empty pieces, I just want to lay here

  And list all the reasons I can’t keep your heart, make you safe

  Our love isn’t a risk I think two broken people can take.

  The cut it hurts. I watch me bleed,

  Watch you try to stop it when you can’t take it

  I can’t feel it. God, I can’t feel it.

  So I numb it, I need it, numb it,

  And feed it, again and again…”

  My voice cracked as visions of all my mistakes seemed to play on repeat. Zane hadn’t stopped the track, so I continued to the chorus.

  “One last hit, one last kiss,

  One last jump, one last miss,

  I just want to stay in your arms,

  But they’re full of someone else,

  And I’m the one who pushed; I’m the one who left,

  The one who’s cursed while, baby, you’re blessed.

  And when you lay in his arms at night

  When he’s holding you tight,

  Shed a tear for me.

  The way I ache for you — the burn is finally back,

  The numbness gone, but it’s too late,

  You’re gone, so far gone, in his arms you’ve flown,

  Leaving cold emptiness to my bones.

  One last hit, one last kiss,

  One last jump, one last miss,

  Stay in his arms, with someone else,

  Because I pushed, and I’m suffering in Hell.”

  I ended the chorus and opened my eyes.

  Bronte was wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands, and Will was giving me such a hurt expression I wasn’t sure if I’d done more damage or fixed what was already there.

  Zane came in over the com. “You changed some of the lyrics.”

  I didn’t even realize I had. “Oh, want me to go back and re-record—”

  “No!” All the guys yelled at once.

  Will bent over the board and clicked the com. “Outside. Now.”

  “Shit,” Ty mouthed, while Trevor looked ready to go into full dad-mode, where one kid gets put in a corner and the other outside.

  I tossed the headphones onto the chair next to me and slowly exited the building.

  The breeze from the ocean smelled salty and fresh, sending a chill down my spine as I waited for Will.

  The door to the studio opened then shut behind me.

  Streetlights illuminated the boardwalk as we both stared straight ahead, and wave after wave crashed against the white sand.

  “I always forget how beautiful it is here,” he rasped.

  “I don’t,” I said honestly. “Even though I hate the rain, there’s still something refreshing about this place.”

  “I owe you an apology.” His voice cracked. “Several actually.”

  “No, you really don’t.”

  “You’re right.”

  Well, that went well.

  “Maybe all I need to do is this.”

  Before I could say anything, Will reached out and pulled me against him in a tight hug, and the breath I’d been holding for what seemed like half my life, slowly exhaled past my lips as I hugged him back and felt my eyes well with tears.

  It was never supposed to be like this.

  The two leaders of Adrenaline, divided.

  We were always stronger together.

  Powerful.

  “I’m sorry.” Voice thick, he continued to hug me.

  And then, I felt another set of arms and another.

  Followed by Ty’s stupid voice. “We felt left out.”

  Will and I both shook with laughter while Trevor added in, “So, are we good now? No more Drew-versus-Will temper tantrums?”

  We all broke apart.

  I shrugged. “He lives for my temper tantrums.”

  Will rolled his eyes. “He wouldn’t be Drew Amhurst without all the attitude, so we kind of have to take him as is.” He made a face as he looked me up and do
wn. “Homeless and stupid.”

  “Hey! I’m not homeless,” I pointed out. “I have a home in LA, and I’m choosing to live in the guesthouse for easy access to Bronte’s—”

  A voice cleared.

  “She’s behind me, isn’t she?” I guessed.

  Will grinned. “Do continue.”

  “In my defense, I was going to say kitchen.” I finished before I slowly turned and saw Bronte’s expressionless face. “Shit, I messed this up, didn’t I? What I meant—”

  She didn’t let me finish; instead, she jerked my face down with both hands and planted one of the hottest kisses I’d ever received right on my mouth.

  In front of the entire band.

  And amidst all their whistling, I managed to flip them off with one hand while crushing her mouth against mine by holding her head in place with my other.

  Our tongues moved together and apart while our lips slid in sync, as though we were made for each other.

  Breathless, we broke apart.

  Her green eyes lit up with wonder. “I cried.”

  “I saw.” My voice cracked.

  “You win.” She held out her hand.

  “Wait, what does he win?” Ty chimed in. “Ouch! Hit me again, Trevor. See what happens.”

  “Oh, I think he’ll be winning a lot.” Will laughed.

  “I like winning.” I kissed her again and then waved off the guys. “Yeah, I’m gonna tap out for the night.”

  “He’s gonna be tapping some—” Smack. “Son of a bitch, Trevor! Do you mind?”

  He just hit him again.

  I locked eyes with Will.

  One head nod.

  And one hug.

  And I felt the chasm in my heart close.

  By the time we made it to the house, I was ready to rip her clothes off, sing her name, lick her from head to toe, memorize every inch of her body, make a sandwich — because, you know, carbs — and do it again.

  Instead, Amelia was home.

  I had nothing against Not-My-Daughter, but the last thing she needed was to hear moans coming from her mom’s bedroom.

  I could only imagine the trauma.

  And the tattling to Braden, who would end up coming back early and punching me in the face.

  I opened the door for Bronte and nearly died with the way her hips swayed back and forth… back and forth. Hypnotized… I was so damn hypnotized that I didn’t realize Amelia was on the couch.

  “Mom, Not-My-Dad’s being creepy and staring at your butt.”

  I snapped my head up and glared at her. “All this after I gave you money?”

  She shrugged. “What can I say? I spent it.”

  “All of it?” I asked. “How?”

  “Living is expensive.” She beamed with a bright smile while Bronte let out a little chuckle and went to the kitchen.

  I sprinted over to the couch and jumped onto it right next to Amelia. “Yeah, I’m gonna need another favor.”

  Her green eyes lit up. “How incredibly shocking.”

  “Would it kill you to soften some of the teen spirit?” I wondered aloud.

  “Would it kill you to sleep alone tonight?”

  I gasped in outrage. “No.” I pointed my finger at her. “We are not discussing this. No, off-topic, no.”

  “But, but…” She sniffled. “…where do babies come from? Mama says when you cuddle really hard—”

  “I hate you.” I was so uncomfortable I wanted to hide under the table, but it was glass, so I would just look like an idiot staring up at Amelia in all my embarrassed glory. “Look, it’s her birthday tomorrow.”

  “Birthday sex. Birthday sex.” Amelia bobbed her head.

  “Damn, teenagers are the worst!” I crossed my arms and leaned back against the couch. “What’s it gonna take?”

  Her grin was evil.

  This is going to be painful, isn’t it?

  “Another set of concert tickets, but this time, backstage passes to AD2, and if you throw in a Red Carpet invite for Jamie Jaymeson’s next film, I could probably find a friend who will take my homeless self in tonight, so I’m not scarred for life.”

  “Please.” I snorted. “I’m a sex symbol.”

  “Aw, how cute. You still believe that, old man.”

  “I’M NOT OLD!” I felt the need to yell again.

  She scrunched up her nose. “How is the hip anyway?”

  “When it rains, it does ache a bit.” I rubbed my hip and then moved my hand to my knees. “And sometimes, these creak, so good thing I don’t need to use them in order to—”

  “La la la la la,” she sang, covering her ears with her hands.

  I grinned triumphantly.

  Amelia dropped her hands. “Fine. Shake on it?”

  “Are all teens so damn expensive and annoying, or just you?”

  She beamed. “It’s a gift.”

  “Curse,” I fired back and then shook her hand.

  “Drew?” Amelia suddenly looked uncertain as she glanced over her shoulder then back at me. “Be gentle with her.”

  I squeezed her hand and then pulled her in for a hug. “I swear.”

  Amelia sighed against me and then added, “I’ll murder you and bury the body if you hurt her.”

  My heart warmed as I pulled away and flicked her nose. “I would expect nothing less from Not-My-Daughter.”

  She swallowed and then said. “You’re not so bad at this stuff…”

  “Extortion?” I joked.

  “No.” She shoved me. “You’re not so bad at the parent-slash-teen negotiation moments. In fact, I give you a gold star.”

  “That’s really all I wanted for my life.”

  “You’re welcome.” She stood. “All right, I’m just going to grab an overnight bag, text a friend, and if you could keep the PDA to a minimum while I’m on the premises too, that would be awesome.”

  “I’ll try to keep my hands and mouth to myself.”

  “Ew!” She shuddered and then got up and walked off.

  “I’m not ew!” I called after her. “Sex symbol!”

  “Okay, old man!” she called back.

  “There a reason you’re trying to convince my daughter you’re a sex symbol?” Bronte teased as she tossed me a bottled water.

  I sighed. “She called me old, made fun of my hip, and ruined my self-esteem.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Your self-esteem, I’m sure, is just fine. Maybe your ego will actually fit in the house now?”

  “What can I say? All of me is big.” I smirked.

  “DREW, I’M STILL HERE!” Amelia shouted.

  “I KNOW!” I yelled right back and then gave Bronte a shrug. “What? A little trauma never hurt anyone. She’ll survive.”

  Bronte covered her face with her hands and just shook her head, mumbling, “I think I need more caffeine to deal with you.”

  “I’ll be your drug,” I teased just as Amelia came out of her room and visibly shuddered.

  “Gross.” She bypassed me and went into her mom’s arms, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’m feeling better already. And Candice’s parents are both home. I’m gonna ride my bike down there, okay?”

  “You really don’t have to.” Bronte frowned.

  “Yes, she does,” I said, at the exact same time Amelia grumbled, “Yes, I do.”

  Bronte looked between us. “Are you two working together now?”

  “Scary, isn’t it?” I sighed. “She’s quite expensive, that one, and a little too intelligent for my liking. Are you even capable of having children who aren’t in the process of world domination?”

  “Nope,” Amelia answered for her. “Thank God, we got all mom’s genes.”

  “Up top.” I held up my hand for a high-five. “Imagine if you would have gotten some of mine.”

  “Suddenly, I see myself with less brain cells, more ego, and a tattoo that says Pa on my back.” Amelia winked.

  “Low.” I shook my head. “You need money or anything? I mean— What t
he hell am I saying? You didn’t even ask! You’re just staring at me.” I gave Bronte a pleading look. “She’s magic, isn’t she? Do all teens go to some sort of hypnosis training on how to get shit from people?”

  “Swear jar.” Amelia held out her hand. “And I did kind of want to DoorDash…”

  “A test then.” I opened up my wallet and pulled out my black AmEx. “Do you have the self-control, or will you buy yourself a new wardrobe? This may as well be the ring that makes you Frodo. Don’t let the Seven Kingdoms down. Sauron sees all.”

  Her eyes were so wide I thought they would pop off her face. “Are you— Is this — a credit card?”

  Bronte let out a groan. “Looks like Not-Your-Dad is about to learn the hard way you never give the teen the credit card. Ever.”

  “Mom, don’t ruin it! I can do this.” Her excited gaze flickered to me. “If I do this, what do I get?”

  “Respect.” I nodded. “And a puppy?”

  “Drew!” Bronte scolded. “You aren’t getting her a puppy!”

  “Oh, sorry. I meant a horse. I know a guy.”

  “Oh, God.” Bronte burst out laughing. “Someone needs to train you or something. You can’t just—”

  “Yes, please.” I grinned. “What do you think, Amelia, can your mom housetrain me?”

  “Doubtful.” She sighed. “Very doubtful, and that’s a heck yes on the puppy. I’ll just be taking this.” She waved the card in front of me.

  “Make me proud, Frodo!” I ruffled her hair.

  “Anything for you, Gimli!”

  I frowned at her disappearing figure. “Wait, isn’t that the dwarf with the giant beard?”

  “Yup!” She skipped toward the door.

  “Aren’t I more of a Legolas?”

  She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “You wish, Drew Amhurst. You wish.”

  “Hey!”

  And then she was gone.

  Bronte just shook her head at me with a blinding smile — a rewarding, blinding smile. “You’re seriously spoiling her, and she’s already spoiled.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say that was how it should have been because that was what dads did.

  And then I froze up.

  I wasn’t her dad.

  But I would kick ass as her dad, or kick anyone’s ass if they messed with her. My emotions must have shown on my face, because Bronte was in my arms in seconds, cupping my cheeks, her green eyes searching mine.