High Strung (Power Station Book 1)

by Gephart, T

  She didn’t yell and somehow that was so much worse. It fucking scared the hell out of me. I wanted her to scream, to slap me and tell me what an asshole I was, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned around and walked out. She didn’t even slam the door. Nothing. She was just gone. I kept staring at the door. Hoping it would open and it was all a big mistake. Like what just happened, didn’t actually happen. But it didn’t. Nothing changed and I was left standing there with the biggest pain in my chest I’d ever known. All that shit about feeling like your heart was tearing in two was a lie. That didn’t even come close to the pain I was feeling. It felt so much worse. Like having your heart ripped from your chest, tossed on the floor, and forced to watch it helplessly while you slowly die. That’s what it felt like. It felt like dying.

  Megs kept asking me how I felt and I didn’t know what to say. Hurt. Sad. Angry. Tired. Sad. Hurt. It was everything wrapped up in a huge indescribable fuck-you emotion. I felt betrayed. I felt stupid but most of all I felt an overwhelming sense of pain and loss that compared to nothing I’d ever experienced before. I’d experienced break-ups before. Nothing even came close to this. This was some kind of medieval type pain. Epic. Sustained.

  It was like a hole had been torn through me, letting the cold seep in and I could never warm up. My body shivered. I felt empty. I felt lost. I felt so incredibly sad I couldn’t stand it.

  “Ash. I’ve never seen you like this. Sweetie, I don’t know what to do to make this better.” It’s a sad sorry state of affairs when one of my best friends, who happened to be a psychologist, didn’t know what to say. That’s where I had ended up. Pushing the boundaries of even professional help. Go hard or go home, right?

  “Nothing, there’s nothing.” I was curled up on my couch in my pjs. It was the weekend so therefore it was my go-to attire. I wasn’t leaving the apartment. Not unless I had to. Like if the place was on fire or something like that, and even then I’d probably seriously evaluate the size of the flames before actually leaving.

  It had been exactly one week and one day since I’d walked out of Dan’s apartment. He had been calling me relentlessly. I didn’t answer. Letting every single one of those calls go to voice mail, and deleting them before I had a moment of weakness and listened. I couldn’t. I couldn’t go back. It had hurt too much.

  I had made it through in a daze. Faking it through the days when I had to see people, going to work and pretending it hadn’t happened, but allowing myself the luxury to fall apart at night when I was alone. It had been three days before I’d finally confessed what had happened to Megs. I had a feeling she already knew, maybe through Troy, or maybe even Dan trying to gain an ally, but she didn’t say a word. She just held me and let me cry on her bedroom floor.

  I wanted to pull myself together. To stop it. But it was something I just couldn’t manage. Part of me didn’t want to. Like finally letting go of the pain would be letting go of that last piece of Dan. How stupid was that? That even after all of this, I still loved him. I was insane.

  “Ash, maybe you should talk to him. Even if it’s just for closure.” Megs sat beside me. She was grasping. Looking for anything to pull me out of it.

  “No, I have all the closure I need.” I didn’t even look at her. My eyes fixed on the television screen in front of me. Not that it was actually playing anything. Staring at the black focal point just helped me not to cry.

  “Ashlyn Marie Murphy, you are full of shit. You aren’t anywhere close to closure.” Megs pulled on my arm, forcing me to look at her. We both knew she was right. One of us was just not ready to deal with what she was suggesting.

  “I’m not calling him, I don’t want to hear his voice. It will hurt too much.”

  “Ash. I get that you are hurting right now, and I’m not going to pretend I know what you are going through, but anyone can see you are still in love with him. Maybe there is a way you can work through this.”

  I loved Megs, and usually her optimism was welcomed, but today I wanted to ask her what the hell was she thinking? She had to be kidding, trying to get me out of my funk with shock treatment. Like delivered pulses into my brain by electrodes, this was her mental equivalent.

  “Megs.” Where to even start? “He made a play for me while interested in another woman. Then he went to Lexi, a potential employer, and asked her to give me a job, obviously not having any faith in my own ability and making me look desperate. Then failing that, he went to a girl who he’d had a one-night stand with and got her to pull some strings. The same girl he had been trying to win over when he met me. See where I’m going with this? My pride is about all I have right now.” The words come out in a jumbled rush. I barely took a breath before continuing, “What’s worse is that I don’t even know if the job is still mine. Like if now the gig is up, will JenCorp pull the pin? After all, they don’t need to do me any more favors now I’m no longer screwing Dan. The whole week I’ve been waiting for someone to come into my office and hand me my walking papers. My world has dropped out from under me. None of it was real. It had just been an illusion.”

  “Ash, take a breath. I don’t care how or who got you that interview at JenCorp, you earned that position. You are more than qualified, and you are doing an outstanding job. Even assuming they hired you as a favor, which they didn’t, but assuming they did, they wouldn’t keep you if you sucked. It’s a business, Ash; you look at their bottom line every day. Do you think they going to sink money into you as a charity case? Even you have to admit that regardless of how you got there, you have more than proven your worth.”

  If I gave it some proper consideration, what Megs said was logical. JenCorp had thrived on ruthless business decisions. Simon Jennings wouldn’t think twice about firing me if I didn’t perform. That man was only interested in what I could do to expand his net worth, rather than who my boyfriend was. Not that it mattered now. I had no boyfriend.

  “Even if I could find a way to work through it, he didn’t believe in my ability to get a job on my own. I’m not sure if I could somehow find peace about possibly running into one of his past and numerous conquests. Or even, believing that if we had met under different circumstances, he still would have wanted to be with me, it doesn’t change anything. All those problems did, was highlight one major flaw. We didn’t belong together. We were too different.”

  “Ash, you were happy. I saw it. I know that those feelings you had for him were real. He was a manwhore and he had slept with a lot of women, but that was before he met you. He wasn’t with anyone while you were together, right?”

  I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. “I don’t think… I hope he didn’t.” In my heart, I believed he had been faithful even if my head, the jury was still out. I hated that either way, I just wasn’t sure.

  Megs rubbed my arm as she continued her dissection of our break-up. “The job thing, perhaps his methods weren’t great, but I think his heart was in the right place. We’ve already established you got the job legitimately; all he did was get your foot in the door.”

  “I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but I need to know that I’m good enough on my own.”

  “Oh sweetie, you are. He was just trying to help. He wanted you to be happy because he loves you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Whether he loved me or not, nothing changes. I mean really, what the fuck was I thinking? A rock star, Megs. A fucking rock star. What kind of future was I going to have with him? Maybe we’d date for a few months, a year at most? Then, what? We move onto friends like he did with Sydney? Is there some special club of girlfriends past, where we all gather and commiserate? I can’t do that. It would hurt too much. He was larger than life, and I got caught up in the madness. When I met him, I knew that it wasn’t going to be forever. I just stupidly forgot, and then went and did something dumb like falling in love with him.”

  It felt like the room had become suddenly larger, or I was smaller in it. The overwhelming hurt hung in the air above us. It had consume
d me, and I knew there was no going back. I wasn’t that strong.

  “Please think about this. Please, talk to him,” Megs begged, pulling me closer into a hug.

  “You are supposed to be my friend. Please don’t try and make me feel worse than I already do.” I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t let this go. My heart was broken into a million tiny pieces and I wasn’t even sure whom to blame.

  “I’m not. I promise. Ash, I really believe he loves you. I know he is hurting just as much as you are. I’m trying to help.”

  “Well if you want to help, stop trying to convince me that I’ve made a mistake. Help me get over him, and help me move on.” Help me to forget how much I love him. I couldn’t say that last part. Not out loud. Not ever again.

  “Okay. If that’s what you want.” Megs sighed. Her expression was sad but resigned, like she was finally going to let it go.

  I closed my eyes and let out a long, slow breath. I didn’t want to feel like this, I didn’t want to hurt. I’m not sure what part cut me the most, maybe it was because I had felt like a consolation prize. He had admitted he didn’t do long-term, and perhaps he wasn’t wired for that. Either way, even if I still loved him, and he me, I needed to look after my heart.

  “It’s what I need.”

  “Dude, get your head in the game. I’m playing a C sharp major, and you aren’t even in the same scale. What the hell key are you in? Did you forget how to play? Did you tune at all?” Alex flung a guitar pick at me as I looked up from my bass. I actually had no recollection of what I played, and we’d gone over this progression at least six times.

  “I’m fine, asshole. Just making sure you’re paying attention. You just worry about making sure your part is tight. I can handle mine.” I stretched out my fingers before flipping him off. Fucking Stone and his perfect-ass playing.

  “Hey, why don’t we take five?” James put his mic back on the stand and walked toward me. If there was a mediator in this band, that guy sure as hell fit the bill. Sure, he was a tough business guy and when it came to music, he knew that shit inside and out, but he was too smart to let that go to his head. Whenever things got hairy, James was always the first one to step up and take control.

  “What’s going on, brother? I’ve never seen you this edgy before a show.” James clapped his hand around my shoulder. Now I felt bad about letting him down. Another heaping spoonful of disappointment.

  “The show isn’t the problem. I can play this shit sideways. Just got some other stuff clouding up my gray matter.”

  Ashlyn still wouldn’t take my calls. I had left maybe forty voice messages, and I was half expecting the sheriff to show up and issue me with a restraining order.

  “We can cancel the gig, dude. It’s no big deal.” Troy rested his sticks on his snare and popped out his in-ear monitors. “It’s just an exhibition show. No tickets have been sold. No harm, no foul.”

  If anyone knew what private hell I’d been living with for the last two weeks, it was the man sitting across from me. He had found my sorry ass, a bottle and half of bourbon later, on the floor of my fucking apartment where Ash had left me. He didn’t even say anything, just parked his ass on the floor beside me and helped me finish the other half of the bottle.

  I’d fucked up. I got that. I should have told Ash right off the bat about the job. But I knew if I did, she would take it the wrong way, which she did anyway. The whole Sydney thing was a kick in the nuts. I had gone back and forth a million times and still didn’t know what else I could have done differently. I came up blank each and every time. I had slept with Syd, but that shit was in the past, and the minute I fucking laid eyes on Ash, Sydney wasn’t even on my radar. Ash was never a consolation prize. She was the fucking jackpot. She was The World Series and Superbowl rolled into one and no girl had even come close. The fact she didn’t get what a big deal she was made me feel like I’d had my dick slammed in a car door.

  “Ash and I aren’t together anymore, but I’m fine. We’re doing the show.”

  “Dude, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blow up at you like that. I was a complete dick.” Alex put down his ax and walked over. He looked all regretful and shit. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Nothing to say.” I shrugged. There really wasn’t. ’Cause talking about it just made it harder, and it was bad enough running through it in my head. It was a car crash, and yet I couldn’t stop the fucking loop.

  “We’re here for you, brother. Whatever you need.” Jase joined the improv therapy session.

  Jase already knew. He had joined Troy and I in one of my post-break up drinking sessions and listened to me in my misery, but like the stand-up guy he was, had kept his trap shut and didn’t tell James and Alex. It’s not that I didn’t want them to know, I just didn’t want to have to say the words. Like maybe some miracle would happen and she would come back. But all the hoping in the world didn’t do jack.

  I was not willing to let down my brothers. It was bad enough I’d let down the only woman I’d ever loved. Yeah. There was that. I fucking loved her. Still did. The fact she’d bailed did nothing to change up that sitch.

  So, I guess I knew. Knew what it felt like to have your heart broken, and knew what it felt like to live with the fact that the only person you want to be with didn’t want you. It was a kind of suck that you couldn’t even begin to understand, or explain. Unimaginable pain.

  “I’m going to need a minute.” I pulled the strap from my chest and rested the bass on the stand. I needed some air.

  The guys looked at each other before looking back at me. I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what was going on in their heads. They were wondering how long I was going to be able to keep my shit together. I couldn’t even clue them in, ’cause the truth was, I had no fucking idea.

  I walked out of James’s studio and into his backyard. It was the tail end of fall and the chill factor was getting good and cozy with the day. I wasn’t wearing a jacket but I didn’t give a shit. I welcomed the cold air hitting my skin like an ice bath. Gave me something else to concentrate on other than this pit of emptiness I was dealing with.

  I pulled out my phone and flicked through my contacts. I stopped at her name; my finger hovering over it like it did every single time. I didn’t call. Not this time at least. I reserved the calling for when I got good and worn down. Usually late at night or the early hours of the morning, hoping her automatic reflexes would kick in and she’d just pick up. But she didn’t. It always diverted to voice mail where I’d get to live a different type of hell and listen to her sweet pre-recorded voice tell me she can’t come to the phone right now. I fucking hated it, but it was my only connection to her, and like a fucking junkie, I wasn’t willing to go cold turkey. For those few precious seconds, with her voice in my ear, I could pretend that she was still mine and that was I going to hold her again soon.

  I scrolled down the names in my phone a little farther, and before I could stop myself, I hit call. It was the other number my brain liked to wrestle with before hitting dial; today I was all out of fight.

  “Hey, Dan. You really need to stop calling me. It feels wrong going behind her back.” I knew it was only a matter of time before she said it, and today those words had finally come.

  “I know, Megs. I’m sorry. I just miss her and I need to know she’s okay.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to reconcile with the fact this was probably the last time Megs would take my call. Not that I blamed her. Her loyalties were with Ash, and I was thankful she’d been so patient up to this point. A lesser person would have told me to fuck off the first time I’d called. We’d both been surprised. Me, for the fact I’d actually let the call connect, and Megs that I’d kept the number after planning Ash’s birthday celebration.

  Maybe it was ’cause she was a shrink, or maybe ’cause she was just a decent person, but she listened to what I had to say with no judgment. She let me spill my guts and lay myself bare with no need to censor. Her advice was sound and
she was kinder than I fucking deserved, but I lived for those rare fucking moments where she’d let down her guard and tell me about my girl. Anything. Even if it was just to know she’d finally slept. I wanted to know. I needed to know.

  “Dan, I’ve tried to be impartial, but this whole situation is really fucked up. You are both in so much fucking pain. It’s horrendous. Maybe it’s for the best if you let her go.”

  “I wish it was that easy.” I swallowed, cursing the fucking lump forming in my throat. “She’s always going to be with me, Megs. I love her. She’s deep in me now, and even if I never see her again, I’m always going to love her.”

  “Fuck, Dan, you’re making me cry.” Megs’s voice cracked and I heard her breath hitch as she tried to hide the tiny sobs.

  “I’m sorry, Megs. Seems like making girls cry is all I’m good for these days.” I balled my fist up against my eyes. “I know I’ve got no right to ask, but I’m going to need you to do me one more thing.”

  “What is it?” Megs hiccupped, having lost her battle with the waterworks.

  “Take care of my girl for me, will you?” I tried to pull it together so I could finish what I needed to say, my body fighting a losing battle with my fucking emotions. “You or she ever need anything, I don’t care what it is or when, you call. No strings. She doesn’t even have to know it’s from me. I don’t ever want her without.”

  Megs cried into the phone and shit got real quiet on my end while I tried to absorb the pain. I listened. Listened to Megs’s tears and let the misery wash over me. If she could do this for me, then I’d give her a blank check for whatever she wanted. She could call on favors for the rest of her days, and I’d shut my mouth and pay up with a fucking smile. I couldn’t let go and I’d never stop loving her, but if I knew someone was looking out for her, I was willing to step away. She deserved a chance at being happy, and I’d obviously fucked that up. It wasn’t about me, or what I wanted anymore, and I’d give my last fucking breath to make sure she was happy. Even if that meant saying goodbye.