Missing From Me (Sixth Street Bands Book 3)

by Jayne Frost

Breezing past the hostess, I headed for the stairs, for the rooftop bar, and all the twinkling stars just beyond my reach.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sean

  The sun sank low as I pulled my boat into the slip at the Oasis, the trendy three-story restaurant directly across the shore from my house. My gaze shifted to Mansfield Dam as I wrapped a thick hank of rope around the metal post on the pier, mooring the boat to the dock.

  This made the fifth sunset since Anna had walked out. I’d seen them all. The first two days I’d spent in a drunken haze, but I swam up from the bottle every evening like clockwork, just to watch the sky turn.

  Sliding my sunglasses on my nose, I ambled down the pier, hoping to blend in with the dinner crowd.

  Caged was a solid band with a good-sized following, but it was only here, in Austin, where I got recognized daily. Love us or hate us, people knew who we were. Maybe because we were born and raised here. And there were only so many places to go in this city. I’d visited them all at one time or another, before they were tourist traps.

  The Oasis was one of those places. The multi colored umbrellas dotting the patios at the rear of the restaurant provided optimal shade to enjoy the view of the lake, even in the summer.

  I spotted Trevor as soon as I slipped through the door, so I bypassed the hostess stand and then climbed the three steps to the premium tables.

  “Look at you.” I held out my fist for a bump, smiling. “Shunning the commoners up here in the VIP.”

  Trevor laughed, slinging his arm over the back of his chair. “Dude, I used your name. I’m but a lowly attorney. I can’t compete.”

  I tossed my glasses on the table as I slid into my seat. “Glad my name is good for something.”

  Unable to keep the edge out of my tone, I scrubbed a hand down my face.

  Trevor eyed me as he took a sip of his beer. “Why do I get the feeling this ain’t a social call? You in some kind of trouble, Hudson?”

  I was in a shitload of trouble. But not the kind Trevor could solve.

  Picking through the bevy of appetizers on the table, I popped a shrimp into my mouth.

  “If I wanted to talk business, I’d come to your office, and you wouldn’t be using the word ‘ain’t.’” I laughed. “Not for seven hundred and fifty an hour.”

  Trevor scoffed. “I’ve never charged you seven fifty in your damn life. You got me cheap.”

  Trevor’s firm handled some of the business for the band. Or, rather, Trevor’s daddy’s firm. Trevor Sr. charged full price to look over all of our contracts and such, but I’d known Jr. since our dive bar days. His and mine. Considering the amount of alcohol Trevor had imbibed during his years at UT, I wasn’t sure how he managed to graduate.

  We made small talk over a bucket of beer while we waited for our fajitas. Once the waitress dropped off the sizzling plates of beef and shrimp, I got to the point.

  Dipping a tortilla chip in salsa, I asked, “You know anything about Dean Kent?”

  Trevor shoved a wedge of lime into his bottle of Corona, chuckling. “So that’s what this is about—Anna’s husband?” he took a sip. “Or ex-husband, I guess.”

  He belched loudly, which was a good thing since my stomach hit the floor with a thud that could probably be heard at the next table.

  I chugged half a glass of water, forcing the chip down my throat. “Ex . . .” I coughed. “Ex-husband? Since when?”

  Trevor lifted his gaze to the ceiling, pondering. “Not sure. They may not even be officially divorced.” He shrugged. “They’re separated, though. Have been for a while. It’s been over a year since I’ve seen them together at any parties.”

  I pushed a piece of beef around my plate. “Maybe Anna just doesn’t like to go out.”

  From the way she was heaving her guts out the other night after a few cocktails, I’d say it was a distinct possibility.

  Trevor sighed. “Yeah, no. First of all, if you’re married, you show up for these parties together. Second,” he pointed his fork at me, “people talk. And Anna and Dean’s impending divorce has had everyone’s tongue wagging for a year.”

  Digesting the information, I tried to hide my shock. “That’s interesting . . . I guess.”

  Trevor’s boisterous laugh filled the room. I swear people turned to stare. “Cut the crap, Hudson. If you’re asking about Anna-baby, you’ve either seen her, or you want to.”

  The asshat continued to smile, piling more food on his plate while he waited for me to elaborate.

  After four sleepless nights, my patience was less than zero, but I played along. “I might have run into her.”

  He shoveled another bite into his pie hole. “Why don’t you ask her then?”

  “Dude.” I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

  Trevor took a sip of beer to wash down his food. “I said—why don’t you ask Anna?”

  I heard the fucker the first time. I only hoped a little misdirection would aid my effort to shift the conversation.

  Since it didn’t look like it was working, I lifted a shoulder. “We only saw each other once. We didn’t really talk.”

  Trevor clinked his bottle with mine, grinning broadly. “But did you fuck?”

  Red painted the corners of my vision and white-hot rage boiled under my skin. “Don’t fucking talk about her like that. You got a death wish?”

  Genuine confusion furrowed Trevor’s brow at my snarled retort. “Damn, Sean, lighten up. I was only kidding. If you didn’t even know about the divorce, no chance you two were hitting the sheets. Anna would never fuck around, not even on Dean.”

  I grabbed another beer, and ice rolled down the bottle, stinging my hand, but I didn’t flinch. Hell, the pain barely registered. Because I did think Anna was married. No, I’d never asked her outright. But the ring.

  Trevor’s last comment finally caught up with my whirling thoughts. “What do you mean, ‘not even on Dean’?”

  Trevor looked me in the eye, clasping his hands in front of him in what I assumed was his courtroom demeanor. “How much do you know about Anna and Dean?”

  I shrugged, pulling a face. “Nothing.”

  At least that was the truth.

  Trevor blew out a breath, exasperated. “Okay, so you don’t know anything now. What about when they first got together. I mean, you two had to have talked about . . .” His brows shot up as I shook my head. “Are you telling me you haven’t spoken to Anna in all this time?”

  Disbelief shrouded his features, and I averted my gaze. “We broke up. Do you speak to your exes regularly?”

  Trevor slumped in his chair. “Well, no. But, shit, y’all were together since what, first grade?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sophomore year, asshole.”

  He chuckled as if I’d proved his point. “That’s what I’m saying. I still talk to Jilly, and I was only with her a couple of years.”

  I lifted my beer in a mock toast and smiled bitterly. “Good for you.”

  Glancing in the mirror behind Trevor’s head, I paused with the bottle halfway to my lips as a tall brunette walked up the steps, straight out of my past. Out of a dream. Or a nightmare.

  That had to be it. Four nights without sleep and I was conjuring ghosts.

  But as she got closer, her high heels clicking a staccato beat against the wood floor, I realized this was really happening. She was here.

  “I thought that was you,” Darcy said smoothly, resting her hand on my shoulder. “Sean Hudson, in the flesh.”

  I’d long suspected the events that destroyed my only chance at happiness were inexplicably woven into the fabric of the universe. Like the Big Bang. And now, in exchange for Anna making a guest appearance in my life, karma had brought Darcy along for a cameo.

  My focus shifted to the gold name tag on her blouse for confirmation. Our hookup came courtesy of too much booze to be sure it was her. Though I knew it was. “Hey, Darcy. Long time.”

  She tapped her lips with her finger, smiling. “Yeah,
almost four years.”

  “That long?”

  In my periphery, Trevor’s gaze volleyed between Darcy and me. She’d yet to look at him, which spoke volumes. Trevor wasn’t famous, but the dude’s all-American good looks drew women like flies to honey.

  Darcy gave me a small pat and made a show of perusing my plate of fajitas. “I saw your name on the reservation list, and I thought I’d say ‘hi’ and make sure you were enjoying your meal.”

  If the glint in Darcy’s eyes was any indication, the only thing she wanted me to enjoy was E-coli or something equally heinous.

  “Well, thanks for that.” I forced a smile. “Food’s great. It was nice seeing you again.”

  “Are you dismissing me?” she snapped, her tone shrill. “Because I’m a manager here. So I’m not going anywhere. If you’ve got a problem with me then you can leave.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re good at that, aren’t you? Last time I don’t think you bothered to zip your fly before you ran out on me.”

  Trevor cleared his throat, but Darcy didn’t flinch. Either she knew he was there and didn’t give a shit or she was too wrapped up in telling me off to notice.

  Either way, I felt bad. None of this was Darcy’s fault. It was on me. But she’d pay the price if she lost her shit in the middle of the dining room. I doubted her boss would take kindly to one of his employee’s cussing out a VIP, justified or not.

  “Darcy,” I warned, “keep your voice down.”

  “Why? It’s not like you have a girlfriend anymore. Nobody’s going to jump me in the parking lot.”

  The buzzing in my head rose in pitch, and I half expected my eardrums to shatter.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sugar, but you need to run along.”

  A smile crept over Darcy’s lips. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. The redhead. Annie something or other.”

  My jaw clenched reflexively, trapping Anna’s name behind clenched teeth. “You mean Annabelle?”

  “Yeah, her.”

  Lifting the beer to my lips, I wondered when the man on the pale horse was going to arrive because surely this was the fucking apocalypse. I’d already heard this story once, and it nearly killed me.

  “The crazy bitch accosted me in the parking lot after . . .” Darcy got hold of herself at the last second, her attention shifting to Trevor, scowling into his beer. “After you left.”

  Somehow, I managed to form a thought. Because only one thing mattered more than my pride, and that was preserving Anna’s dignity.

  So I laughed. “I doubt Anna was that concerned. She kicked me to the curb before you and I hooked up.

  The lie slipped out, smooth as a greased pig. But Darcy wasn’t buying it, and from the look of reproach on Trevor’s face, neither was he.

  “Could’ve fooled me,” Darcy singsonged, examining her nails. “She was crazy hysterical. Logan had to pull her off. She crumbled right there in his arms.”

  Looking me in the eye, whatever Darcy saw was enough to satisfy her need for revenge, because she plucked the check from the table and said, “Your meal’s on the house.” She gave Trevor a brilliant smile. “Y’all have a good night.”

  I fished my wallet out of my pocket for a tip while Trevor watched Darcy saunter away.

  He met my gaze with thinly veiled disdain, and I couldn’t blame him. “You want to tell me what just happened?”

  I took a deep breath.

  “It’s a long story,” I said as I grabbed the last beer. “And I don’t mind sharing. But first, you need to tell me everything you know about Anna and Dean.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sean

  Later that night, I turned into the quiet cul-de-sac in Cedar Park where Anna lived. I didn’t plan on going to her house straight away. At least that’s what I told Trevor when I’d convinced him to pull up her address on the tax assessor’s website.

  But here I was, squinting at the house numbers stenciled on the curb. Most of the designations were plain, with a white glow in the dark paint on a black background. But only one had a UT Longhorn logo.

  I made a quick pass in front of the house to verify the address before parking across the street.

  When Anna mentioned that she lived close, I didn’t realize it was this close. Seven-point-three miles from her door to mine according to the GPS. I could run it in less than a half hour and drive it in five minutes.

  Sipping the coffee I’d picked up at Starbucks on the way here, I looked around the upscale development. All the homes had well-manicured lawns and expensive cars in the driveway. But the charming red brick two story had Anna’s fingerprints all over it. An oak tree stood tall in the front yard with limestone bricks stacked neatly around the base of the trunk. Manicured hedges cupped the arched entryway, and brightly colored perennials peeked from the flower beds in front of the windows. And then there was the orange tricycle tucked against the garage, white streamers dangling from the handlebars.

  I’d come here with every intention of letting Anna know that I was on to her and that I was totally cool if she wanted to use me. But first she needed to tell me why.

  As I finished the Americano, the truth seeped in along with the caffeine. I wanted the girl, my girl, as much as the explanation.

  Jumping out of my skin when Logan’s ringtone bled through the speakers, I gritted my teeth and ignored the call.

  The phone rang again.

  Without taking my eyes off the house, I tapped the button on the steering wheel. “What?”

  Over the loud music in background, Logan said, “Dude, if you don’t start answering your phone, I’m implanting a fucking chip in your arm. Where the hell are you?”

  I bit my tongue until I tasted blood to keep from tearing into him. We still hadn’t had the talk. The one where my best friend explained why he didn’t tell me about seeing Anna at the bar the night before we left town. And oh, by the fucking way, why in the hell have you been emailing her for a year?

  Tamping down my anger, I replied, “Out.”

  “What’s up your ass, Sean? I haven’t seen you in three days.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “With Anna?” When I didn’t answer, Logan sighed. “She wasn’t at the show last night.”

  My anger reignited, scalding my tongue as the words flew out. “Why the hell were you looking for her?”

  “Because I invited her, dumb fuck.”

  Before I could reply, Anna’s garage door slid open, spilling bright light onto the driveway.

  I hunkered down in my seat as she stumbled out, dragging a large trash can behind her. “I gotta go.”

  “Wait a minute!” Logan barked. “Benny called. He wants us to come to LA next week.”

  “Fine, whatever.”

  Distracted, I disconnected the call and watched as Anna walked backward down the steep incline. Under the street lights in her flimsy nightgown, I could see every curve, every slope of her body. And I glanced around to make sure nobody else was watching.

  Mine.

  Unable to sit still any longer, I hopped out of the car. “Anna!”

  She whirled around, shock painting her features. “Sean, what are you doing here?”

  Her mouth formed a little o as I marched toward her.

  “I want to talk to you.” When she turned, bolting for the safety of the garage, I cursed under my breath and then broke into a sprint. “Anna, stop!

  Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes widened as I closed the gap. “Go away!”

  She wasn’t looking where she was going and she tripped over the tricycle, landing on all fours.

  Flipping onto her backside, Anna cursed and then bowed her head, like the weight of the world just descended on her shoulders.

  Me.

  I was the weight.

  “Are you all right?” I held out my hand as I approached. “Let me help you.”

  Daggers shot from Anna’s pretty eyes as she looked up, scowling at me. I suppose she tho
ught it was fierce. Cute is what it was, and all my anger fled.

  “I’m fine.” She swatted me away. “I don’t need your help.”

  I crouched in front of her, my fingers itching to touch her. “What are you running from, baby?” I swept a curl behind her ear. “Huh?

  She blinked up at me, defeat written all over her face. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Easing down beside her, I offered a small smile. “You’re probably right. But I am, so what are we going to do about it?”

  Anna struggled to her feet. “You’re going to get in your car and leave, and I’m going inside.”

  She tapped her foot impatiently. But I wasn’t going anywhere.

  I glanced over my shoulder at her car. “Is Dean-o home?”

  Her brows dove together, and she took a step back. “No.”

  “Good.” I climbed to my feet, then took her hand. “We’ll talk inside.”

  In Anna’s state, half naked and pissed as hell, she wasn’t concerned about her neighbors sneaking a peek at her goodies. But I was.

  Mine.

  Anna pulled her hand free and growled, “We will not.” Wincing, her gaze shot to a small gash on her palm. “Shit.” In seconds, a thin rivulet of blood trailed to her wrist. Dazed, she blinked up at me. “I think I cut myself.”

  The sight of blood had always turned her to stone.

  “You did, but it doesn’t look that bad.” I guided her to the door. “But we need to clean the dirt out.”

  As I crossed the threshold, my feet tangled around a pink Big Wheel, giving Anna time to slip around me and rush to kitchen.

  I was still staring at the toy like it might sprout wings when Anna called, “Hey, can you get me a Band-Aid?”

  She pointed to a door right behind me.

  I nodded, and then stepped inside a tiny washroom. Sorting through the medicine cabinet, I finally came across a couple of stray bandages imprinted with Disney princesses. I picked the one with the red hair.

  Joining Anna at the kitchen sink, I laid the Band-Aid on the counter. “I think this is Aurora.”

  Aurora was the only princess I knew by name, and only because my cousin went through a Sleeping Beauty phase. The kid refused to get out of bed for an entire weekend, insisting her prince would come. I finally had to pay the little boy next door two bucks to give her a damn rose.