“You’re very popular.”
I shrugged. “We have a good following, and we enjoy it.”
“No big aspirations for stardom?”
Suddenly restless, I prowled the room. I finished my tea, setting down the mug.
“I’m content with my life, Liv. Stardom and the trappings of it hold no appeal to me.”
She frowned. “I’m sorry. I feel as if I hit a sore spot there.”
“Sore spot—no. A part of my life I try not to think about a lot—yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s in the past, but at times, it’s difficult to think about.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I wish I could go back and warn myself.”
She reached out her hand and I took it, sitting beside her.
“I understand,” she murmured.
I thought of the personal stories she had shared with me. I squared my shoulders, knowing if we were going to go forward, I would have to share my past with her as well.
“I know you do. I think you, of all people, would understand.” I huffed out a lungful of air. “And if you want to know, I’ll tell you.”
“You would?” she asked, hesitant. “It’s not too personal? I want to know you, but I don’t want to push.”
I tangled my hand into her hair and brushed a kiss to her head, inhaling the sweet fragrance of her shampoo. Honey and wildflowers. It was intoxicating.
“No, Livvy, it’s not too personal. I don’t like to talk about it, but you deserve to know.”
She squeezed my hand.
I heaved a long, heavy sigh and sorted my thoughts out in my head.
“When I was in my twenties, music was my dream. Hell, as long as I can remember, it was my goal. Play music, travel the world, and have a family. I wanted it all—but when I was younger, music was the drive. My parents weren’t as big on the idea, although they were supportive.” I chuckled at a memory. “My dad was a carpenter. He could build anything, and I used to work with him in his shop. When I was young, I watched him create pieces of furniture, and I was fascinated. When I got older, I started helping him. He taught me everything I know. I know he hoped I would take over his business, but music was my first love.”
“Did you always play blues?”
“No, when I was younger, rock and country were my favorites. I got my first guitar when I was nine. I bugged my parents for months before they finally took me to a pawn shop and bought me a secondhand guitar. I think they thought it was a phase.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“Nope. I had three things in my life. Music, school, and working with my dad. Because of my size, the coaches at school were constantly after me to be part of the football or basketball team, but I was never interested. I liked the gym and working out, but team sports weren’t for me. I would rather go for a run early in the morning, then spend the day with my guitar or in the shop with my dad.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
I tapped the end of her nose playfully. “Like all fledgling musicians, I became part of a band when I was a teenager. I was in a few of them until I met Brett. We formed our own band, and it became quite successful. We were sort of a cross between rock and country. Edgy, but with soul. We practiced a lot and got a few gigs at local schools and places like that. I wrote a lot of our stuff, and we became quite well known. Eventually we got noticed by a label and signed.”
“Wow. Would I know the name of your band?”
“The Back Roads.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my God.”
I lifted one shoulder. “We were successful for a while.”
“You were huge. I remember your music. I have your music!” She gazed at me in shock. “How did I not know you were part of them?”
“I was one of the guitar players. Not the front guy. Brett was the main focus most of the time. I wrote the music and played it. He loved the spotlight, and I was happy for him to have it. We all were.”
I scrubbed my face as memories began to reshape and take form in my head. Memories I hated to think about, let alone share with anyone. Even Liv.
“I was young and foolish, Liv. Living my dream. Life was an endless stream of rituals. We toured constantly. Hotel rooms, tour buses, planes. Women. Alcohol. Any cliché you want to throw out there about the music industry, I probably lived it at some point.”
I met her eyes. “I never did drugs, and I wasn’t a man whore. I had lots of opportunities for both, but I tried to hold on to at least some of the values my parents taught me. I wasn’t an angel, but I certainly wasn’t as bad as some of the guys were. Even in my own band. We had to have more than one intervention at times to keep us going.”
“What happened, Van?”
“I met a girl one day. Her name was Tonya. I fell pretty hard. She was different from the other girls I had met. Quieter, not as flashy. She was a journalist and had come to interview us. Usually, Brett took the lead, but she kept directing her questions at me. After the interview was done, we kept talking, and I took her out for coffee. She fascinated me, and it seemed she felt the same way.”
Liv shifted, her hands restless. I lifted one to my mouth, kissing the knuckles.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No, I feel…” She hesitated. “Jealous, okay? I feel jealous.”
I leaned forward and kissed her. “Don’t. How I felt about her and how I feel about you are worlds apart. I was young, stupid, and lonely. She paid attention to me. Not Brett, not Jared the drummer. Me. One of the guitar players—not even the popular one.” I barked out a laugh. “She played me well.”
“She hurt you?”
I stood, feeling restless. I walked around the room, absently picking up objects, setting them down, and moving again. I stood by the window, looking into the darkness of the night.
“Yes, she did. It wasn’t really me she wanted. It was Brett.” Agitated, I ran a hand through my hair. “I was so smitten, I never saw what was happening right under my own nose.”
“Tell me.”
“We moved fast—too fast. She came on tour with us. She got on well with everyone—including Brett. I thought I’d found the perfect girl. I loved her, my friends liked her, she understood the business. It seemed right.” I lifted one shoulder, feeling the twinge. “But nothing was what it seemed.”
I stared out the window, thoughts and images swirling through my head. “I should have known. I should have seen. But Tonya had a way of clouding my mind. Twisting things so they suited her. She said and did all the right things.” I was quiet for a moment. “I was getting tired of the touring and the lifestyle. The other guys still loved it, but my dream had begun to change. I wanted a family. I have always loved kids, and I wanted to settle down and make a home and family. My dream was to write music, sell it, maybe play guitar in the studio for recordings. I had rediscovered my love of carpentry, and I entertained thoughts of opening my own place. I thought I could have it all. Music, working with my hands, a family…”
Silence filled the room as I struggled to form the words I had to share with Liv. I started when her arms wrapped around me, and she pressed herself to my back.
“You don’t have to tell me, Van.”
I covered her hands with mine and squeezed. Her touch helped to center me, and I let out a long breath.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Whatever it is, remember it’s in the past. It can’t hurt you now.” She pressed closer. “I’m right here.”
I looked down at our hands. I was so broad, her arms could barely wrap around me, yet I felt completely wrapped up in her. Safe and protected.
No one had ever made me feel that way until now.
“Tonya knew my dreams. I thought she was on board with them. In fact, we began trying to get pregnant. I spoke with the guys about leaving. They understood but supported me. They were thrilled I wanted to keep writing for them and helping in the studio. I promised them I wasn’t in a hurry, and we would take it slow. Find
the perfect person to fill my spot. So I kept planning and dreaming. Trying to make a baby with Tonya. Looking to the future.” I laughed, the bitter sound loud in the room. “I should have been paying more attention to the present.”
“There was an accident,” she murmured. “I remember reading about it.”
“Yes. We were on a day off and out for a car ride. Brett and I liked to drive and talk or work on music. It had been a long tour, and it was almost over. I had been feeling unsettled and tense. Something was wrong, and I couldn’t figure out what it was. I put it down to being tired and ready for the tour to be over. I thought the drive would help clear my head. A day away from the usual monotony of touring. Tonya wanted to come with us, and I was happy to have her. She had been acting oddly, and I figured she was feeling the same exhaustion.”
I shut my eyes briefly, remembering the last few minutes when my life seemed normal.
“Tonya was driving. Brett was in the passenger seat, and I was in the back. We were working on a song, so I had my guitar and needed the room. I don’t remember what happened. One moment we were traveling, the next there was chaos. Metal crunching, glass breaking, the car flipping. I blacked out, and when I woke, I was in the hospital.”
“You were badly hurt.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement.
“Yeah. My left side took the brunt. I had a lot of surgeries and physio. They weren’t sure I would ever regain the use of my left arm, but I did. I have a shit-ton of pins and screws in my shoulder, arm, and leg, but I survived.”
My voice dropped. “Tonya was killed instantly. Brett suffered massive trauma and died before I woke up.”
“Oh, Van.”
“I found out she wasn’t paying attention. She blew through a stop sign, and we were hit. The car we were in flipped and rolled. I saw what was left of the car later. The fact that one person lived through it was astounding. That it was me…”
She slipped in front of me, her embrace hard. “Oh, baby,” she whispered. “I can’t even imagine what you went through. Losing your best friend and your partner.”
“My world changed in the blink of an eye, Liv. I went from the world I knew as normal to one filled with pain—both physical and emotional. And it was only beginning.”
She stepped back, tugging me to the sofa. “Do you want to stop?”
“No. I need to get it out now that I’ve started.”
“Okay.” She handed me a bottle of water, and I drained it in long swallows. Still, my throat felt dry and arid.
“I was in the hospital for a long time. When I got out, I needed help. I hired a great physio person, and he worked with me daily to help me recover. I pushed myself. I had already lost so much, and I didn’t want to lose my independence.” I met her sympathetic gaze. “There was a lot of trauma to my body, Liv. I was pinned in the car for a long time.” I cleared my throat. “I found out I couldn’t have kids. All of my dreams were gone.”
She inhaled sharply. “I’m so sorry.”
I could only nod.
“Can you tell me what happened next?”
“Tonya was an only child, and her parents were dead. We had been together for almost a year, and all of her things were at my place, except what she had with us on the road. It was all sent to me, and I decided one day to open the boxes and sort through it all. I had been missing her and thought maybe seeing her things would help me feel closer to her again.” I snorted. “It did the opposite.”
She gripped my hand. “Tell me, Van.”
“I found her journal. She was always scribbling in it. A throwback to her journalist days, I suppose. It never occurred to me to look at it—it was private—but when I saw it, I thought being able to see her thoughts would bring me some closure.” The pain that had hit me when I read her words flowed into my chest.
“She didn’t love me. She didn’t want a family. She’d secretly still been using birth control. All the times she’d told me she wanted a family as much as I did were a lie. She’d been screwing Brett for months.” I felt the intensity of their betrayal race through me as if it were only yesterday, and I gripped the back of the chair. “My best friend and the woman he knew I was in love with. Both of them deliberately hurting me.”
“Oh, Van,” Liv murmured. “What a shock for you.”
“Between her journal, putting together bits of the puzzle on my own, and talking to some other people, I found out a lot of things I had been blind to. Brett wasn’t happy about my plans to leave. He was working behind the scenes to cut me out of the group entirely. Tonya didn’t want to be involved in a humdrum life with a carpenter. She loved the road. The life. The attention being with a celebrity gave her. She had been stealing my songs behind my back and getting them to Brett. He was recording them and planning on fighting me, saying I stole them from him so I wouldn’t get any of the credit or the royalties.” I rubbed my chest, feeling the depth of their deception once again. “I realized I didn’t even know the woman who wrote the words I read. She was a stranger, and I had fallen for her act. Reading the shit about the two of them made me ill. The deception. The wild sex behind my back.” I shook my head. “I was so stupid. So caught up in my dreams and what I thought was going to happen that I never saw it. I thought they were great friends and I had the best of both worlds.” I sighed. “I was an idiot.”
“You trusted people you loved. It doesn’t make you an idiot.” She hesitated. “Why would she write all those personal details down in a book?”
“One of her entries was about a meeting with a publisher. She was going to write an expose. I guess she wanted to keep the details fresh.” I shook my head in sorrow. “Reading them was humiliating and made me ill.” I flexed my hand, feeling the ache in my bones, which was a constant in my life. A reminder.
“All the lies she told me. The disappointment I would feel when she would tell me she wasn’t pregnant that month. She even made me think it was my fault. I went and had testing done to make sure it wasn’t me. She told me she had done the same, and her doctor said we simply needed to relax. I believed her, of course.”
“There was no reason for you not to, Van. It made sense. It happens to a lot of couples, especially when they’re under stress.”
I barked out a laugh, the sound loud and bitter. “Stress is one word for it. She was busy setting up her new life, with plans on dumping me and my sorry un-achieving ass. She had a long list of names for me in her precious journal—none of them very flattering. I was simply a means to an end. Use me to get to Brett since he was harder to get close to. I was an easy target.”
A tear ran down her cheek.
“I went from grieving to furious instantly. The trouble was, the people I was angry with were dead. I had no one to take it out on. I went through a bad few months. I drank and raged. I wrote some music that would shred your heart. I was on a downward spiral until my parents and my manager stepped in. They did an intervention and made me see I had to stop. No one else could do it—it had to be me.”
I sat down, too tired to stay standing. “I went for counseling. Stopped using alcohol to hide from my feelings. I met with my ex-bandmates. They suspected what was going on between Tonya and Brett but didn’t have any proof. They had no idea what Brett was up to behind the scenes. We agreed to retire as The Back Roads, and we let the lawyers work it out,” I stated grimly. “The royalties show up in the bank every month, and I let them sit there.”
“When did you start playing music again?”
“About six months later. I was doing my therapy, but my hand was still pretty useless. I was standing in my closet one day, and in the corner was my old guitar. The one my parents had given me that I had never let go. I picked it up and tried to play. It was awful. Worse than the first time I had tried when I was a kid. Something inside me clicked, though. I had missed it. The sounds of the guitar. The way the strings felt under my fingers—the steel biting into my skin. How the wood felt resting on my leg and the vibrations I felt when I strummed.” I pause
d, remembering the feeling of rightness that had settled over me. “I started practicing—the same way I did as a kid. Every day, for hours on end. It took a long time, and I will never have the same stamina or fluidity I did before the accident, but I got the music back. I started writing again. Sold some songs. Then the Notes found me, and they asked me to be part of their group. I made them a deal. I would play and be part of the group, but I wasn’t interested in a career or chasing the dream again. It almost destroyed me the first time.”
For a moment, silence hung between us.
“Is that enough for you?” Liv asked.
“Yes, it is. None of them were interested in a career in music either. We play when we want to. They simply want to play for the love of music. I still sell songs to a lot of artists. On occasion, I go into the studio and lay down tracks for them. I hear my music on the radio. I get to play with a great bunch of guys. We play a few of my old tunes and some songs I wrote for them, but I keep all the rights myself. I will never put myself out there with another person the way I did with Brett. No one gets my music except me.”
“I can understand that.”
I sat beside her, lifting her hand to my mouth and pressing a kiss to her skin. “That’s my story, Liv. It’s not pretty, and it doesn’t have a happy ending. I’m broken and I have trust issues.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yeah, I do. You make me feel differently than Tonya did, Liv. She would wind me up, and I was always on edge around her—something I didn’t realize until she was gone. With you, I feel easy and content. I don’t have to work all the time to prove myself.”
“There is nothing to prove. I like Van. Carpenter, planner, friend, coworker, musician—” she grinned, the dimples in her cheeks appearing "—man who has a tea party with my daughter when she asks, Prince Van.”
“Hey,” I chuckled. “She makes a great cup of tea. And there were cookies. How am I supposed to resist?”
She kissed me, her lips full and sweet against mine.
“You’re wonderful with her. She adores you.”
“She is easy to adore back,” I mused. I met her gaze. “Rather like her mother.”
Vested Interest Box Set Books 4-7 Page 32
