Few people knew Jake and I had a younger brother. Born eight weeks early, Logan spent four weeks in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Westmead in Sydney until the day his tiny body left the hospital in a much-too-small casket. All preventable.
Going to a funeral at the age of six confused me. The casket lowering into the ground still haunted my dreams—nightmares made worse now that I’d lost a son of my own.
Which was why I was performing at the charity concert no matter the risk to my own safety. If my name would help bring in more money and keep child abuse front-and-center in the media for a day or two, then I was willing to stand up on stage with a bloody target on my chest just for Jordan, who’d managed to slink into some slimy hole overnight.
He’d turn up, especially if I made myself available.
So that’s what I’d do—I’d go out, be seen over and over again until Jordan came after me this time. Me, not Mila. And I’d make sure the sack of sorry shit never saw the outside of prison walls again.
I hesitated another moment at Mila’s door, but she wasn’t in the mood to talk. I snagged my key card and headed to the front door. I let the two new guards in, annoyed when they looked anywhere but me. They’d heard Mila. Thank God for Harry’s sense to have anyone who worked for Jackaroo to sign nondisclosure agreements. If I read even a hint about our fight, I knew who to sue.
“Mila’s struggling under the enforced solitude. She wants to go to the pool. Please take her. I have to meet up with my bandmate.”
Lew, the bigger of the two guards, crossed his arms over his massive chest and nodded his bald head. The bloke was intimidating as all hell. “We’ll take care of her.”
“See that you do,” I said.
“You get any new credible threat information?” Hank asked. “Want someone in the water with her?” Former military police, he’d said. Not much older than me. Fit. Probably considered an attractive bloke with his conservative haircut and the straight, even features. I almost dismissed him on the spot until I realized I was jealous. Dammit, I didn’t do jealous.
But I always had with Mila. Something I was going to have to relearn. Because Mila and I needed to spend time together, see if we could give our relationship another go. All those emotions, that anger she’d spewed, stemmed from hurt. At least I think it did. And if I was correct in that assumption, if what Noelle had said was true, Mila still cared about me just as I still cared about her.
I stood there for a moment, the need to fix the situation with Mila warring with the need to talk to Hayden. I’d texted him back, letting him know I’d stop by soon. He’d sent me the address, which wasn’t too far from here.
I’d talk to Mila first, make sure she knew I wanted what was best for her, then go meet up with Hayden. The shower turned on in Mila’s half of the suite. Bollocks. Missed my chance to talk to her and left the wound festering ever wider. If I was braver, I’d simply tell her I still loved her.
But I wasn’t that brave. Not now that I knew she thought I ruined her life.
I slammed out of the suite, irritation at the situation catching up with me. I settled into the new rental car next to Kevin and closed my eyes. Mila needed me to be her rock, which required me to handle my emotions better. To act better, period. I used to without thought. But now, since my every whim was anticipated, my every action justified thanks to my multiplatinum album, my lack of civility—humanity—was appalling and obvious.
No wonder Jake, Hayden, and Flip wanted to get rid of me.
Briar’s flat was small, but the exterior wall was made of windows and the hardwood doors and floors were only some of the subtle touches that made it feel both homey and roomier than it actually was. The main room consisted of a tiny dining nook, a decent-sized living room and a functional kitchen done up in stainless steel appliances and bright white countertops. A whole three feet of it, upon which sat a brand new espresso maker.
“Briar bought that for me. Said I needed to learn how to make real coffee like they serve in Melbourne since I made the mistake of saying coffee there’s better than here. She’s waiting for a brilliant cuppa, she says.” Hayden shrugged. “Your shadow coming inside?”
I glanced back at the guard. “Be decent, Hayden. Kevin’s just doing his job.”
Hayden’s brow shot up, shocked, no doubt, to find a decent bone in my body. Or that I’d chastise him. Both, I reckoned. “Right-o. Sorry, there, Kevin. Come in. I’ll grab you a drink—a coffee?” At Kevin’s nod, Hayden moved over to the kitchen and pulled out a premade Starbuck’s mocha. “I don’t know how to use the bloody thing,” he sighed. “It’s more complicated than that freaking airplane we took up in Cairns last year. Best part: the instructions are in, like, Korean.”
Kevin and I chuckled. “I’ll step outside, Mr. Etsam. Holler if you need anything. Thanks for the coffee.” Kevin raised his glass container and stepped out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.
I walked to the living space. The couch was tattered and I wondered why they’d keep such a nasty old piece of rubbish when a fluffy gray cat with bright green eyes sashayed around the corner.
“You even have a cat?”
Hayden settled into the corner of the couch and the cat leaped with light grace into his lap. “She came as part of the package. Bit moody, this girl, but she’s all right. Aren’t you, Princess?”
“That cat’s name is Princess?” I couldn’t stop the snort of laughter.
“Better watch yourself, mate. If Princess doesn’t like you, this convo ends.”
“You’re still angry,” I said, holding up my hand. “Mila has a bird. A bloody cockatoo. For emotional support.” Hayden shook his head but his lips curved up. I cleared my throat. “Right. I didn’t come to talk about animals. I acted like a complete douche canoe.”
“That you did. But . . . seeing you with Mila, knowing how you loved her, how I love Briar, I can understand part of it. The acting out from hurt anyway.”
I leaned forward, my hands clasped between my spread knees. “You can’t because I just learned how bad it’s been.”
“Her stalker, you mean? The step-uncle? It’s been all over the news.”
“That part, yeah. I’d told her I wanted to marry her a few days before everything went to shit because of that bloke.”
Hayden hissed out a curse. “Not that I’m surprised. Mila’s fabulous. Kept you in line, didn’t she?” Hayden reached down to scratch Princess under her chin. She blinked up at him and began to purr.
“So when she broke it off, I wasn’t just angry, which I was. Really angry.” I met Hayden’s light brown eyes. So different from Mila’s wild swirls of color. “I didn’t handle that well.”
“Too right. Jake, Flip, and I, we got that. What we didn’t get was the escalation of the behavior.”
“I didn’t, either,” I said, shame washing over me. “It just happened. Jake says I was hurt and I handled it with avoidance.”
“The parade of women I can see as avoidance, but what about the desire to make the rest of us as shitty as you?”
“I don’t know.” Shaking my head, I hoped some profound thought broke through, helping me understand my self-destruction. “I was—am—messed up.” I blew out a breath. Somehow, admitting my jumbled emotions helped. “You heard Mila had been pregnant?”
Hayden dipped his head in acknowledgment.
“I didn’t know before. She hadn’t told me. I found out after she miscarried, and I thought . . . I thought it was some other bloke’s bub.” I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. “I would have a son if that bastard left her alone.”
“Crikey.” Hayden dragged out the word, his eyes filling with sympathy.
“’Bout sums it up.” I glanced down at my hands, white-knuckled and fisted. “I left her now at the hotel, angry with me for not trusting her more then.”
“Seems like you’ve fumbled more than one dance.”
The cat wandered over, wending its way between my legs. “I’m still in love with her.” I
laughed, but it was humorless, and I choked it off just before the sound shifted toward a sob. “Not that my feelings do me much good. I’ve handled her, you, the fame, all of it, like a complete wanker.”
“Not a surprise. You couldn’t have written ‘She’s So Bad’ if you weren’t so heart sore.”
I bit my tongue against the snide comeback. That wouldn’t help. “I’m not asking you to forgive me for how I treated your relationship with Briar. I was wrong. Dead wrong. I just didn’t want you to end up like me, mate.”
Hayden ran his finger over his upper lip. I dropped my fingers down into the cat’s long, silky fur.
“I’m not sure I forgive you for what could have happened to Briar.”
“I understand. I should never have involved myself. And I shouldn’t have tried to keep her from seeing you.”
“True.”
The cat put its paw on my knee. I moved my hands. A moment later, Princess jumped into my lap. Her purrs rumbled across my thighs and stomach.
“You’re a loud bugger,” I crooned. Princess tipped her head and twitched her ears.
“Princess doesn’t like a lot of people,” Hayden said.
“Smart cat.”
“I told Briar I’d listen. She wants us to work it out. She said you were hurt and she reckons Mila’s the reason.”
“No, I was an arse because of me.”
“Truth.”
“But,” I sighed, “Mila really fucking hurt me, leaving as she did. I’d only sorted through my response to this a bit before seeing her at the Tractor Tavern.” I swallowed hard. “Seeing Jordan’s hands on her . . . Hayden, he broke her. Killed my nipper. I don’t know how to handle any of that.”
Hayden cleared his throat. “Reckon you don’t. Not really. Just be there for her. If you want to be. Which I’m assuming you do since you’re with her now.”
I nodded. I continued to pet the cat. She nuzzled into my chest.
“I’m not sure I’m ready to tour with you again, but I won’t slam the door shut on another Jackaroo album,” Hayden said. “At some later date.”
The tension eased from my chest. “I can’t leave Mila now. Not until her stalker’s in prison.”
“Understood. She’s one in a million, that lady. Don’t bugger your second chance. I won’t stick around to see if you survive it.”
“I want to write her a new song. Problem is there’s so much I have to say. More important things.” I paused, testing a phrase in my head. They sounded terrible. I shook my head, unable to meet Hayden’s gaze. “I’m not sure I can. Write another song, I mean. I haven’t been able to finish anything halfway decent since I wrote ‘She’s So Bad.’”
“I’ve wondered on that. We all have.” Hayden’s light brown brow pulled low over his nose. “You’re stuck in the hotel. Use the time to reflect. Consider what you want. The music might come now that you’ve admitted to your emotions.”
“That’s easy. I want Mila in my life.” Hayden was my best mate. Or had been. And I needed someone to confide in. “I’m just not sure I’m good for her future.”
“Make her see you are good.” Hayden leaned forward. “You fucked up. I did, too, but I managed to talk Briar into taking me back. I’m still in awe for her capacity to forgive. I was a dickhead all in my own right. Without any help from you.”
Hayden stood, walked over to the fridge and pulled out two beers in tall bronze cans. A large dog panted a smile but there weren’t words anywhere on the can. Weird. He handed me one and then clinked my can with his.
“This is different from your epic disappearing act on Briar.” I sighed. “Mila and I have serious baggage.”
“So you work through it. You should, whether you get together again or not. You’re calmer and seem to be in a better mental space than you’ve been for the last year at least. You need her understanding. Forgiveness would be better. For what it’s worth, Briar forgave you.”
“She’s one helluva sheila, your Briar.”
“That she is.” His eyes met mine, his face set in serious lines that matched the tenor of his voice. “Don’t hurt her again or I’ll rip you apart.”
I patted the cat one more time. “Understood.” I sipped my beer. “This is good.”
“Mate of Bri’s makes it. He has that strange Northwestern thing about pets. Even named his brewery after his first dog.”
“This the bugger?” I asked, pointing to the can.
Hayden shrugged. “Don’t really care. Just like the beer.”
I sipped again, hoping it would keep me from saying something stupid. The silence stretched. I squirmed under the cat. Hayden stretched out his arm on the back of the sofa and considered me over his beer. “When my mum died, I was angry and confused.”
I held my can loosely in my hands. Good as it was, I wanted to get back to Mila. Worry didn’t come close to my current emotions. Hank, the bastard who wasn’t long for his job, wanted her. He was at the pool with her now. If the prick touched her, I would rip him apart. I managed to smooth out my scowl and pay attention. Hayden deserved that.
“Hard not to be, mate,” I said.
“You pushed all your feelings out into the world. Onto others. I did the opposite. Held it all in. It’s what I’m good at. Because of my dad . . . you know, him being so old when I came along, taught me to not make a fuss, not to be loud.”
“I’m not sure either option’s healthy.”
“Mine sure wasn’t. I’ve watched you implode same as I did, but that was after you exploded in those first weeks. Don’t think you’ve been any better off.”
I waited. When Hayden started talking, it was important to let him finish. The bloke didn’t make idle conversation.
“I think what we do, create music, is grounding. But the touring, the cycle of shows and fans and the disruption to any type of normalcy is what turns those coping mechanisms into vices.”
“You mean why so many rock stars go too far.”
“Something like that. I’ve been talking to Asher Smith. From the Supernaturals. He’s not as interested in touring as he used to be. He’s got his boy to consider. And now that Briar and I are together, I want time with her. Time to let her finish her degree and to spend in our pajamas on a Sunday morning. Normal time.”
Something Hayden never experienced in his life. His dad sat him at the piano at age three, and he was touring by ten.
“Right. So take your time. A year won’t kill us.” I hoped not. All of us were set financially until we found our next passion.
“Actually, it’s more than that. There’s a collective of musicians that have started a community here. It’s not the same as traveling around the world but YouTube still lets you connect with them for a lot cheaper than the price of a stadium ticket.”
Hayden stood and the cat jumped from my lap to run into the kitchen, tail straight up.
“Expecting your salmon, Princess? Right, girl.” Hayden pulled a large platter out of the fridge. I shook my head and he just smirked. “Keeps her happy. Anyway, there’s a get together a week from Thursday at the Showbox with some of the collective. You should come and get the vibe of what we’re doing, how we plan to change the endless tour cycle without giving up the music we love so much. We can add a few Jackaroo tunes.”
I pressed my lips together, trying hard to hold together my emotions. Hayden offered an olive branch I didn’t deserve. I stepped forward and pulled him into a brief, hard hug. “Thanks, mate. I’ll try. Not sure if Mila will be able to come, and I hate the idea of leaving her alone at the hotel.”
Hayden slapped my back once. “I’m glad you ran into Mila again, though I don’t like the circumstances around your reunion. You’re acting more like my best mate again. I’ve missed him.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” I pressed my lips together in a firm line, unwilling to let my chin tremble. I cleared my throat twice. Hard. “Thanks, Hayden. Really.”
After he plated up the raw salmon, the cat’s purrs hit a new level of loud. Holy Chris
t. Hayden put the fish back in the fridge and washed his hands. I set my beer on the counter, assuming our meeting was done. Towel in hand, Hayden cocked his head. “You want to see my new Taylor?”
Surprise burst through me. “You got a guitar?”
Hayden grinned. “I had to. I’ve been jamming a lot with Asher and the piano’s too big.”
“Love to, mate. I haven’t opened mine in a couple of days.”
“Let’s work on that tune of yours. Got an idea of what you want to say?”
“Matter of fact, I do,” I said. “I brought my notebook to scribble notes in the car. It’s not much.”
“Never is when you start.”
We’d invited Kevin in for another premade mocha, which he drank with relish. Poor bloke, he’d told me he’d grown up in a small town in Missouri, and he obviously didn’t know good coffee.
Not only had Hayden and I worked through some of our shit, we’d played music together. I’d missed that time, those sessions. Best part was the backbone of the song was Mila.
The chorus lyrics came together with ease. Just like they used to. We’d found a good rhythm to fit the lyrics I wanted and messed around with chords. This tune was soft but still edgy because that’s what Mila and I were together.
After another hour, I decided Hayden was well rid of me.
“I better get back.”
“Worried about your girl?”
“Never stop.” I sighed.
Hayden picked up his cat, tickling her under her chin. “I get that. Just gets worse the deeper you fall, mate.”
I nodded. “Been there. Know it well.” Mila had the power to destroy me, and I’d already hiked well down the path of self-destruction. A problem for another day, perhaps. “Thanks for this.”
Hayden smiled. “We’ll get that song worked out. Be sure to let me know when you’ll be at the Showbox.”
“Right.” I rubbed my hand down the back of my neck, trying to shove down my nerves. But honesty was important—and Hayden deserved the truth from me. “One more thing. The big wigs asked me to do a charity show later this week. To iron out my shit-tastic image, no doubt. I’m not expecting you to come, but it’s for battered kids. Means more to me now than it did before, even.” Hayden knew of my mum’s abuse, how Jake and I lost a brother much too soon. “I’m going to talk to Jake and Flip, see if they want to perform.”
Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five Page 65
