Evan's Encore: Meltdown: The Conclusion (Meltdown book 4)

by RB Hilliard

  When I explained that Evan wasn’t due back from Austin until tomorrow—or rather later today, being that it was after three in the morning—they suggested I either sleep somewhere else or call a friend. They would come back sometime later in the day to talk to Evan.

  On my way to Alex-Ann’s, I called Evan.

  “Hlo,” he groggily answered. I’d clearly woken him up. Just hearing his voice made me feel better. It also brought on the tears. Pretty soon, I had to pull over to the side of the road. The entire time I cried, Evan chanted in my ear.

  “Talk to me. Please let me know you’re okay.” After a minute or so of listening to me sob, he shouted, “For fuck’s sake, woman, you’re scaring me!”

  “S-s-someone broke into the house,” I managed to get out through the tears.

  “What? Are you okay? Please tell me you weren’t there?” Surprisingly, the panic in his voice is what calmed me.

  Inhaling deeply, I replied, “I was at work and I’m fine. They ransacked the living room and your bedroom, but nowhere else. The police felt they might have been looking for something. They didn’t want me to stay by myself, so I’m heading to Alex-Ann’s.”

  “I’m leaving now. Text me the address and I’ll drop by and pick you up at Alex-Ann’s when I hit town.”

  “What? No, don’t leave. I’m fine. It just scared me. I’m good now.”

  “Text me the address, Country. I’ll see you in a few,” he replied. Then he disconnected the call.

  Evan was coming home.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “I Feel Like I’m Drowning”

  Evan

  The minute I hung up with Quinn, I began packing. It took no more than ten minutes for me to shove my things in my bag and get out the door. By the time I reached my car, I was physically shaking. Quinn’s call had rattled me. Someone broke into her house. Just the thought made my blood run cold. She was somewhere on the side of the road, scared out of her mind, and crying, while I was miles away and helpless to do anything about it.

  “Fuck!” I shouted, slamming my hands on my steering wheel. I needed to get my shit together. No, what I needed was to get to Quinn as fast as humanly possible.

  It wasn’t until I hit the main highway that I realized I’d forgotten to tell someone I was leaving. I shot Chaz a quick text saying I was headed home and to let Grant know. I shouldn’t have left Quinn this weekend. I knew it was the panic talking, but bad shit seemed to happen when I wasn’t around, like my wife deciding she wanted another man.

  Quinn. From what I knew of her, she was a woman who didn’t easily give into emotion. Her tears told me exactly how scared she was. It ate at me that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me. What surprised me more was that I even wanted to be, especially with all the shit that had been going down with Mandy.

  Mandy. I knew in my gut she’d done this. She was pissed about the car and even more so because I wouldn’t give her the time of day. A part of me wanted to talk to her, to try to appeal to her better side, but that was just it...she didn’t have a better side. I was beginning to think she’d never had one.

  Mandy and Quinn couldn’t be more different. Had this been Mandy, she would have demanded I drive home immediately and then would have proceeded to punish me for months after. Not Quinn. Quinn wanted me to stay with my friends, which only made me want to leave that much more. The irony was not lost on me.

  I thought about Chaz and something he’d said this weekend. He pointed out that Mandy didn’t want out until after I’d made it official with Meltdown. He was right. She claimed it was because I’d lied to her, but Chaz thought it was about the money. I wasn’t so sure. Chaz wasn’t there the day I left for the tour. Mandy’s anger wasn’t about money then. She was mad she wasn’t getting her way. The fact that she then went out and cheated on me is what blows my mind. Was this the first time or had she been cheating all along?

  My mind wandered back to the money thing and how furious she’d been when I told her I’d hired someone to help manage the finances. Up to that point, she’d been doing it. I thought she would be happy, if not relieved, but she didn’t act relieved. She was furious that I would allow some stranger to handle our money. Could this really be about money? Or was it about control? The woman definitely liked her control.

  Fuck! I was going to go insane trying to figure this shit out. One thing was for sure, Mandy was a game player. When she didn’t get what she wanted, she wasn’t afraid to pull off the gloves and throw punches. If I could go back in time, I never would have touched her, but I couldn’t, and now, here we were...

  The summer after I graduated from college, I put together a demo of songs and hit the pavement looking for restaurants and bars to play. My sole focus was music.

  My father, however, had a different plan. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, to one day take over his law firm and become one of Houston’s top litigators. He honestly thought I would just fall in line with his plan, that I would give up on music once and for all. What he didn’t take into consideration were my feelings on the matter. I didn’t want to go to law school. I would rather tend bar for the rest of my life. At least then I would be living life instead of spending it sitting behind a desk while kowtowing to a bunch of greedy assholes and cheating on my wife. Unlike my old man, my kids would know me.

  That summer, when he offered me a job at his firm, I took it. Not because I gave two shits about him or the job, but because it allowed me to do what I wanted—to pursue music. For three months, I worked days and gigged nights. It was the perfect setup.

  It was one of those nights that I ran into Mandy. We’d gone our separate ways after the break up but had crossed paths a time or two over the years. It was apparent we’d both changed. She was still as gorgeous as ever, but in an older, more mature way. I was the same, but slightly more serious and a hell of a lot more driven.

  “It’s so good to see you, Evan. Why don’t you stay and have a drink with me?” she’d asked. For old time’s sake I took her up on it. One beer turned into too many and by the time we landed in her bed, I was hammered. That night we had sex. That night I also, apparently, forgot to use a condom.

  The next morning, I bailed, leaving her still asleep in her bed. It was a dick move, but I shouldn’t have slept with her in the first place. I had no intention of rekindling our high school romance, nor did I have time for women or dating. My plan was to get my music noticed. Until that happened, I needed to stay focused.

  That focus lasted until the very next week, when I saw her again. This time, she was front and center, wearing a barely-there sundress and a smile on her face. Once the show was over, she found me, and like the week before, she asked if I wanted to have drinks. I politely declined. Seeming cool with my answer, she offered to help me load my gear into my car. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what she wanted, and after explaining that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, I gave it to her. That night, it was in the backseat of my car. At least I remembered to use a condom that time. The week after, I nailed her behind the building and the one after that we did it in the men’s bathroom. After the bathroom incident, I told her it was over and that’s when she told me she thought she was pregnant.

  Three weeks later, the pregnancy was confirmed. Mandy and I were going to be parents...

  It was hard not to think about all the years we’d spent together. All the times I’d given into her and the ugly fights when I hadn’t. I’d tried to be a good husband. Even when I’d wanted to give up on us, I still tried. If only I hadn’t slept with her that night. If I’d listened to my brain instead of my dick, I wouldn’t be here now. I would be racing back to a woman I could actually have. A woman with more integrity in her little finger than Mandy had in her whole body. A woman who would never in a million years settle for being trapped inside a loveless marriage.

  Thinking about what should have been was getting me nowhere, so I focused my thoughts on Bobby and Tut and our pending meeting. I almost didn’t care what they had
to say. I just wanted out. If I had to go broke to get rid of her, so be it. I could always make more money.

  I pulled up to Alex-Ann’s house a little after eight. She met me at the door with a troubled look on her face.

  “What happened? Is Quinn okay?”

  “She’s fine. She’s sleeping. She’s just...worried that she scared you.”

  “Fuck yeah she scared me,” I replied.

  “No, like worried that she scared you off,” she whispered in a conspiratorial tone. I wanted to discuss my feelings for Quinn with her best friend about as much as I wanted to get back together with Mandy—as in, not at all.

  “Where is she?” I asked.

  “Evan—”

  “Where. Is. She.” I repeated more forcefully. After an impressive eye roll and a loud sigh, she led me to Quinn, who was out like a light, and from the sound of it, sawing some seriously big logs.

  “Pretty, ain’t she?” she asked, her tone laced with humor. Quinn Kinley was beyond pretty. Even in sleep, with her mouth open and that God-awful sound coming out, she was gorgeous.

  As if sensing us standing there gawking at her, Quinn’s eyes opened.

  “You’re here,” she sweetly murmured. Her husky, sleep filled voice and the way in which she was looking at me, as if my being there made everything in her world okay, was like a shot of ice water straight into my veins. And that’s when it hit me. I cared for this woman. Not just as a friend, but as more. She felt the same. I could see it in the way she was looking at me. This can’t happen, I thought. Whether I wanted it or not, I was still married, and Quinn deserved better. Red hot anger surged through me.

  “Let’s go,” I snapped. Her sleepy expression turned alert.

  “Is everything okay?” The concern in her voice made me feel even shittier.

  “It’s fine. I just want to see the house before the police return to question me. Also, Bobby and Tut should be rolling in this afternoon and I need your help getting their rooms ready.”

  “Bobby and Tut?” Alex-Ann inquired.

  “His PI’s,” Quinn told her.

  “My friends,” I corrected. My harsh tone stopped the conversation in its tracks. Without another word, Quinn scooted from the bed.

  “I’ll close Margo’s tonight. Come by for dinner,” she murmured to Alex-Ann on the way out the door.

  “You go with Evan. I’ll bring your car to you later,” Alex-Ann responded.

  “Don’t,” I said, once we were secured inside my car.

  “Don’t what?” she asked. I could feel her staring at me—those beautiful gray eyes, searching, questioning, wondering what was going on inside my head.

  “Don’t close the bar tonight.” I started the car and pulled onto the main road.

  “Why?”

  I thought about what to say, but couldn’t come up with anything good, so I settled for, “Just...don’t.”

  “Sunday’s are slow. Plus, your friends are in town. It’s really no bother.”

  “Fucking go to work, Quinn!” I snapped in a much harsher tone than I meant.

  “Fine, I’ll go.” She sounded...defeated, and I suddenly wanted to punch something. No, what I wanted was to pull her to me and kiss the hurt from her lips. Taking a deep breath, I turned to find her staring out the window. Shit.

  “Hey—”

  “Leave it,” she responded in the same dull tone. I didn’t want to leave it. I wanted to push, to prod, to crack her wide open...just like she was doing to me, but I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop. Fucking hell. What was I doing? Why was this happening now?

  Ten minutes later, I turned onto the drive that led to the house. Before I had a chance to come to a complete stop, Quinn was out of the car. I’d messed up. I was frustrated and had taken it out on her.

  Slowly, I got out of the car and retrieved my duffle from the back. Then I followed her. Instead of confronting the situation, like I wanted, I decided to give her a moment while I checked out the damage. The living room had pillows on the floor and drawers pulled open, but Quinn said nothing was missing. My bedroom was a mess. Drawers had been sifted through and clothes scattered, but again, nothing was missing. Then again, the only shit that mattered to me was sitting in the pool house.

  The pool house.

  “Fuck!” I shouted as I shot out the door and raced down the stairs.

  Quinn stepped out of the kitchen as I passed by. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “The pool house!” I shouted back at her.

  “Shit!” I heard her respond. My heart seized in my chest when I saw the sliding doors standing wide open.

  “No. No. No. No. Nooooooo!” I shouted as I reached the entrance and saw the destruction.

  All three guitars, including the one I’d purchased with my chore money, the one that I rarely played anymore but loved beyond words, were scattered in pieces around the room.

  “Oh my God,” Quinn whispered behind me.

  Whoever did this didn’t believe in God, that’s for sure. I took in my piano, my pride and joy, and noted the deep grooves carved into the shiny black surface. Scattered on the floor next to it were the remnants of my electric keyboard and recording unit. All of it had been destroyed.

  “Who would do something like this?” she asked. I knew exactly who’d done this. Mandy had done this, and all because I wouldn’t give her what she wanted. As I stared at the grooves gouged into the piano, I thought about the similar grooves I’d made on the brand-new hardwood floors, the same grooves I’d refused to have repaired. Yes, I knew exactly who had done this...

  My very first view of our new home consisted of me following my wife from room to room as she packed her bags to leave, the entire time sobbing about how sorry she was. Then why? I wanted to scream. The why of it no longer mattered. Mandy knew how much I valued trust. Next to love, trust was the most important thing in our relationship. By allowing another man to touch her, to be inside her, she’d irreparably broken that trust. Somehow, I managed to hold it together until she was gone. It was one thing to think my marriage was over and another to know it.

  Eventually, I ended up in the master bedroom. As I took in the rumpled bed sheets, I wondered if this was the first time she’d cheated or if there had been others. If so, how many? I felt as if a part of me had died. In a way it had. Why now? Why when I could finally give her everything? Wasn’t I enough? No. I’d never been enough, and she’d never stopped reminding me of it. I stood there staring at that bed for who knows how long before finally giving into the grief.

  Much later, I made my way across the hall to the guest bedroom, where I crashed in an exhausted heap on top of the bed.

  The next morning, I woke up angry. When had I become so blind? How did I not see what was happening right in front of my face?

  A shower and two cups of coffee later, I called a locksmith. Then I redecorated. I wasn’t planning on keeping this place. I meant it when I’d told Mandy she could buy it from me. I thought about tossing her things onto the front lawn but couldn’t bring myself to do it, so I moved them off to one corner of the living room. As a nice fuck you, she’d had the piano placed in a room adjacent to the living room. Not only was it too small, but the acoustics were nonexistent. Reverently, I stroked my fingers over the shiny black surface. At the same time, I gazed at the creamy white walls and dark wood floors. Mandy had come from nothing. I’d tried to give her the world, but no matter how hard I’d tried, I could never seem to satisfy her. In her attempt to make this place fancy, she’d erased the heart of it. Now, all that remained was a lonely, sterile existence.

  Over and over, my mind kept coming back to the same thought: This never would have happened had our child survived.

  I would have been a great dad, I thought as I scanned the piano for scratches, all the while fuming that she’d put it in such a crappy place. Mandy knew how much it meant to me, yet she’d shoved it off to the side—just like she’d done to me, to our marriage. I should have divorced her years ago
. Why did I stay? After moving the piano bench off to the side, I attempted to roll the piano from the cramped room but couldn’t get it to budge. What the hell? My eyes dropped to the legs and a growl escaped. Of course, she’d taken the rollers off, probably out of fucking spite.

  The wheels were nowhere to be found, however, in my search through the kitchen drawers, I discovered some old muslin cloth. After placing it under the feet, I managed to successfully drag the piano through the open doorway and into the living room. As I reached the final destination, I noticed the muslin cloth strewn across the floor and the giant gouges left in the wake of my efforts. Oh well, there was nothing I could do about it now...

  As payback, the vengeful bitch had scratched my piano. Bobby better have something good for me.

  “God, Evan, I am so sorry,” Quinn whispered. So was I. She waited for me to make a call to the police before following me back to the main house. On the way there, I asked about the security system.

  When she explained that they didn’t have one on account of her father being old school, I said, “That’ll have to change. I’ll get Bobby and Tut on it.”

  “Evan—”

  “And don’t worry,” I continued, I’ll pay for the whole thing.”

  “Stop.”

  I stopped long enough to growl, “What?” Couldn’t she see that I was three seconds away from coming unglued?

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

  “Don’t be. This has nothing to do with you—”

  “I know,” she cut me off. “But I’m still sorry.” She pulled me in for a hug, and I let her. I might have even hugged her back, but my mind was somewhere other than Quinn. My mind was on a woman I’d once cared for but now hated and the realization that there was a much finer line between the two than I’d ever imagined possible.

  “Nash had a security system installed this past year. Bobby knows the guy who owns the company. I’ll get him on it this week. This won’t happen again,” I said, pushing back from her touch. Before she could respond, I turned and walked away.