Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five

Home > Mystery > Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five > Page 95
Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five Page 95

by Alexa Padgett


  “What?”

  She looked away and shrugged. “He’s fun.”

  “He’s a mess. Dane said he’s one of the coke pushers.”

  “He likes to have a good time. Nothing wrong with that.”

  I didn’t know what to say. “Jenna, this doesn’t sound like you.”

  “I’ve been sad,” she said.

  So we did what any self-respecting young woman does when she’s hurting: We ate too much and stayed up way too late watching the worst of reality TV.

  The next day—well, late afternoon by the time I finally woke up enough to get out of bed—I picked up the rest of our trash. I was postponing calling my mom because I knew I’d lose it when I did. I settled for a text, letting her know I’d be hanging out with Jenna tonight after I did some homework.

  Except I found it hard to concentrate. I pushed the window open farther, trying to get rid of the faint traces of paint scent. As I shoved against the sill, I saw a girl down in the quad squeal and throw herself into her boyfriend’s arms.

  Jealousy rose, striking faster than a rattlesnake. And way more deadly.

  My fingers fumbled with the window ledge as I tried to hold myself up. I failed, collapsing onto my floor. I pulled my knees up to my chest and huddled there, wishing I hadn’t walked away. Hoping he’d call.

  He didn’t.

  Finally, probably hours later, I stood, stiff, my muscles screaming, and picked up my earbuds. I shoved them in, blasting the Supernaturals’ songs. Asher’s voice calmed me, and I finally opened my biochem notes.

  33

  Clay

  I’d blamed my age, the craziness of her case and the pictures, anything but the fact I was scared to end up like my dad. Scared to love Abbi and fuck it all up because of the fear.

  Abbi deserved that truth. She’d given me hers even though it was ugly and hurt her deeply to share.

  I shut down the thought. I hadn’t seen Abbi in three days, and I was like a junkie going through withdrawal. I couldn’t sleep. I forced myself to eat, work out and practice, but it wasn’t the same. I needed to wash my sheets, but I’d held off, hating losing that last bit of her from my apartment. Maybe my life.

  When I’d run into Margie yesterday, I backed away fast.

  “What’s up with you?” Kai asked. “It’s like you had a Bethany sighting.”

  I frowned. “No. Still no sign of her. Do you think she had another breakdown?”

  Kai shrugged. “Why’d you run away from Margie? She is definitely still into you.”

  I ran my hand over the back of my head. “She isn’t Abbi.”

  Kai looked me square in the eye. “None of them will be.”

  I was trying to man up, make things right. Calling my dad had been hard. Talking to him would be worse.

  I opened the door when Dad knocked. I’d thought about meeting at a coffee shop but a public place meant people could overhear this conversation; I didn’t want my mom hurt and embarrassed by what I had to ask.

  “Want some coffee?”

  “What’s wrong, Clay? You look like hell.”

  “Abbi and I broke up.” I sighed, pouring him a cup of coffee I’d set up earlier. I fixed another for myself. My caffeine addiction was out of hand, but it was pretty much all that kept me functioning.

  “What? Why? Even with all the media attention, you seemed good. Solid.”

  “She said she respected herself too much to be with a guy who wouldn’t love her back.”

  Dad’s brow wrinkled as he processed that sentence. His eyes darkened, a signal he was upset with Abbi. He tapped his fingers on the rim of his coffee cup.

  “She’s right. About me not admitting to loving her.”

  Dad’s eyes flew to mine, shock radiating off him. We’d never talked about this kind of thing before. Mom had handled emotions when we were little. Later, I just stopped talking.

  “So what’s the problem? Just tell Abbi how you feel.”

  “I was . . . no, I am afraid.”

  There. I’d said it. I sat my mug on the table, uninterested in the thick, rich taste. My fingers tunneled through my hair. But I forced my eyes to meet his. Abbi was much stronger than I’d given her credit for. Meeting his eyes was near impossible.

  “That day at the Four Seasons. You went up the elevator with a woman. Colt told me about your fight with mom so I followed you, thinking you might want someone to talk to.”

  Dad just managed to set the coffee mug on the table before it spilled. “That was a bad time,” he managed, his voice raspy.

  “I saw you at your studio. That woman was a redhead.”

  I stood because the energy pouring out of me needed the release. I paced, waiting. He didn’t say anything.

  “So let me tell you what I know. You’ve had multiple affairs and one was the same day we were waiting for Cassidy’s last-chance meds to save her life.”

  “True.”

  I swung around to see his face. It was lined, each crease deepening as I watched.

  “When Mom needed you, you were in bed, fucking another woman.” I swallowed the lump building in my throat. It was that thick, ugly thing that had been destroying my insides since Abbi walked out. “If you could do that to your family when we needed you, when Mom needed you, that’s not love. And that’s what I know. What you taught me. That you run when it gets hard. Or that it’s never going to be love like in Mom’s movie.”

  Oh, shit. The words reverberated through my body. The thing gaped wider, threatening to suck me in.

  “Look at me, Clay.”

  I didn’t want to. But I’d made the accusations. I stopped pacing and raised my head.

  His face was even more haggard. “You’re right. I fucked up. Literally. There’s no why—not the first time or even the second.”

  I flinched.

  “Sex was easy, fun. But when Cassie was so sick . . . I couldn’t fix any of it!” He yelled, his throat straining. “I’d promised your mother, God, Buddha, anything and anyone I’d be faithful. And I was until I couldn’t save my baby girl and my wife was fading before my eyes. Goddammit, Clay, I was angry.”

  “I’ve been angry since then, too.” I fell back against the couch cushions. “Angry with you. That you gave up on us.”

  His head fell into his hands, causing his hair to stick up. Gray threaded with the dirty blond, no longer an even mix.

  “You think you’re scarred from my affairs, is that what you’re saying? You can’t love a beautiful young woman because you think—what?—you’ll end up like me? Fucking some woman you’ve just met? Or, worse, meeting a woman you don’t even care about at a swank hotel while you have one ear listening for the phone to ring. Waiting for the call that’ll tell you your daughter’s dead?”

  “Yes!” The thing opened even wider and I was in it. “Wait. No. I don’t want to be like you. That’s the whole point. I don’t want to be like you.”

  “Then don’t.” Dad sighed.

  Colt and I used to play a game when we were little. We’d loop a rubber band to a door handle and then pull it back as far as we could to hear it snap. This moment was the snap.

  I didn’t have to be my dad. Could it really be that easy?

  “I’ve made mistakes, Clay. I’ve done many, many things I’m not proud of. Those affairs are at the top of the list. And just so you know, I’ve told your mother.”

  If I hadn’t already been sitting, I would’ve collapsed.

  “Are you . . . Is everything okay?” I asked, hesitant.

  A small smile flitted across Dad’s face. “So now you’re going to tiptoe around this shit?” He took a deep breath. “I broke her trust.” He met my gaze, his hazel one serious. “I can’t fix it either. I expected her to leave, but we were still reeling from Cassie’s recovery. We’ve seen a therapist. Lots of times. He said it’s not uncommon for extra-marital affairs during times of deep stress.”

  Dad held up his hand. “I’m not explaining away what I did. Hell, I’m not even trying to sug
arcoat it because I screwed around a few times before Cassie was sick. But those words helped your mom. She said bad decision-making happens. We’re working through it. We’ll keep working through it. I hope.”

  “Have there been other women? I mean, since . . .”

  He leaned forward and grabbed my hands in his. The calluses on his palms grated over my skin, but his hands were warm and reassuring. No bigger than mine now, but still my dad’s hands.

  “No.”

  I sank deeper into the cushions, my second biggest fear unrealized. I wished my father hadn’t broken his vow, but . . . my muscles clenched. My mom knew and they were dealing with it.

  “I respect the hell out of your mom, Clay. She’s stronger than I was. Than I am. I’m not sure I could get past her with another man.”

  He squeezed my fingers, let them fall back to my lap as he stood.

  “I feel a million times worse that my mistakes have weighed so heavily on you. Marriage isn’t always the easy choice, but I don’t regret marrying your mother. I can’t—not just because she gave me three of the best kids, ever. But because she makes me laugh. Sitting next to her, sometimes that’s better than the best concert I’ve ever performed. It’s quieter, softer, more intimate.”

  His words echoed Abbi’s. Neither were romanticized. They were the reality that was building a life together. Because there wasn’t any certainty, no matter if it was a life, like Cassidy’s, or a marriage, like my parents’.

  “I’m supposed to say something about fighting for what you believe in,” I said. I picked up my coffee and drained it.

  “That’s utter bullshit. Some things you can’t fight. Look at Cassidy. We threw money and the world’s best doctors at her Hodgkin’s. What ended up kicking its ass was your mom’s love. She simply wouldn’t let Cassie give up.”

  He swallowed, a thick wet sound. “And I have to live with knowing she was there, loving our baby, while I was self-destructing. That’s hard to swallow. There are days I can’t swallow it. I can apologize, and I do. But it doesn’t change how you feel, how your mom feels. It’s months of therapy to get us to this point—and me vowing to never, ever cheat again. I have to forgive myself now that your mom’s making peace with my infidelity. I really don’t know what I did to deserve her, but I sure as hell won’t let her go.”

  I gripped his shoulder, hard. Then, thinking about Cassidy, I pulled him to me and hugged him. I hadn’t hugged my dad in way too long.

  “I know I ambushed you.”

  “No more than I did you.”

  I stepped back, dropping my arms. “I’m afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  “Not being enough for Abbi. Loving her when she doesn’t want to love me back anymore. Screwing it all up somehow.”

  Dad cupped my cheeks in his. His eyes were red-rimmed like I expected mine to be. “There are no guarantees. Ever. For anything in life. So my question to you is, is it better to have some time or to live with the regret of not knowing?”

  “What if I cheat with a groupie? Sex is so available.”

  “I can’t answer that for you, Clay.”

  I rubbed my aching chest.

  His phone beeped an alarm. “I have to go. I promised to pick Cassidy up from school.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  He paused at the door, his shoulders lower. Turning back, he met my gaze. “Actually, thank you. I hated keeping that secret. It weighed on me more than I realized. Not that I’m ready to tell Cassie yet, but I’ll talk to Colt. He’s finally getting over his break up from Kara.”

  I nodded.

  “And Clay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I want you to talk to someone when you’re wrestling with these big problems. If not me, someone else. The worst feeling is feeling alone.” He grimaced. “That sounds like a bad after-school special.”

  He let himself out of my apartment, and I settled back on the couch, thinking about what he’d said.

  34

  Abbi

  “You ready?” Jenna yelled over the stereo. “Charles said this place is happening.”

  I don’t know why I’d let Jenna talk me into this. I hated clubs. The only reason I’d ever stepped foot into a bar was to hear Clay play.

  I was tired of sitting in my dorm room, moping. Waiting for Clay to call. He hadn’t. Nessa said he hadn’t left his apartment in days, not even to go to class. I hated that I’d hurt him, but I hated his stubbornness more.

  At least the press hadn’t picked up on our breakup yet because everyone wanted to talk about the plea bargain I’d signed yesterday—never mind the gag order on the details.

  Jenna popped a chocolate into her mouth and chewed, humming to the song.

  “Who sent you those?” I asked.

  Jenna shrugged. “They’re yours, actually. I found them outside your door. I figured Clay must’ve sent them. They’re really yummy.” Her smile was vapid.

  Damn Charles for getting her involved in whatever it was she was doing. I picked up the box, looking for a card.

  “Here,” Jenna shoved one of them into my mouth. “So good, right?”

  I frowned, chewing the chocolate.

  “Are you ready to party?” Nessa yelled, gyrating her hips in some crazy parody of a model catwalk. She looked amazing in a short skirt, one-shoulder tunic blouse, and high-heeled, black lace-up boots.

  I looked down at my simple keyhole blouse and skinny jeans. Nowhere near as sexy as Nessa’s outfit or Jenna’s tiny black strapless dress, but I was covered and comfortable. I wasn’t ready to flash as much skin as my friends. Baby steps, as Aunt Bri would say. The first step was to go out. I’d worry about looking attractive for a guy later. When my heart was no longer slashed to bits.

  Jenna whooped and I swallowed the chocolate. It was saltier than I expected. I picked up my water and chugged.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I said.

  “What kind of attitude is that?” Jenna asked. “Have one of Abbi’s chocolates, Nessa. They’re so good.”

  Nessa nibbled at one, her face contorting into a grimace.

  “God, that’s awful.” She chucked the rest of it in the trash. “I hate when they mix sweet and salty.”

  She snagged one of Jenna’s makeup wipes, cleaning her fingers. “Great. Now chocolate’s ruined forever.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “I forgot,” Jenna said. Her eyes definitely appeared glassy. I’d talk to Asher about it. He’d know someone discreet to take Jenna to talk to. First was getting her away from Charles.

  “Let me text Dane where we’re going. You okay if he drives us back later?”

  I wasn’t but I just shrugged not wanting to push my anger at Clay over on Dane. The whole situation was already awkward for Nessa and Dane, trying to bridge both of us. I was smart enough to know I’d be the one to fall away—Dane and Clay had the band to keep them together.

  By the time Nessa parked at the club, I didn’t feel good and Jenna couldn’t walk a straight line.

  “This is a bad idea,” I said to Nessa.

  “I need to throw up,” Jenna whimpered.

  “Help me get her inside. I’ll take her to the bathroom.”

  I paid our entry fee and started forward. My head was off. Each turn of my head was like a slow-motion psychedelic rainbow.

  Nessa was on her phone, her arm supporting Jenna’s waist.

  “Can you come get us?” she said. “Jenna’s on something. I don’t know. But I think she gave some to Abbi. She looks weird, too.”

  She hung up.

  “Get some waters, Abbi. I’m taking Jenna to the bathroom.”

  I headed to the bar, trying to keep everything in focus. I bought the waters, blinking against the bright lights. I shoved the bottles into my bag and drifted toward a nearby table. I dropped my overflowing bag on the table, looking for Nessa. We needed to leave.

  I swayed as the world tilted again.

  “Hey, watch it there, princess.”r />
  Some guy’s voice. I didn’t want him. There was only one man I wanted. And I’d left him.

  “Clay. I need Clay.”

  “I’m Harrison, and I’d be happy to help you out, babe.”

  I clutched his shirt. “I don’t feel good.” I licked my lips. “I need my phone. I need to call Clay.”

  “How about you need me instead? I’m sure I can make you forget.”

  No help. I stepped away from the table, intent to get to Nessa, wherever she was. Bathroom. I needed to make it to the bathroom. Someone bumped my shoulder and I spun in a slow circle. The world kept going, careening over.

  I tried to clutch the table but missed. My chin slammed into the wood as I went down. I bit my tongue hard and my head snapped back. The last thing I saw as I hit the ground was the guy’s shocked face.

  “Clay,” I said again, but my mouth hurt and I wasn’t sure I was clear. The black was eating at me, pulling me under.

  35

  Clay

  I scanned the bar but didn’t see Abbi, Nessa or Jenna.

  “You sure we’re in the right place?” I asked Dane. “Hell, it’s a meat factory.”

  He and Kai scanned the area, too, concern puckering both their foreheads.

  “Let’s just find the girls and get out of here.” Kai shoved into the crowd first as we scanned the booths near the dance floor. It was so crowded, finding the girls there would be impossible. Kai grumbled, obviously thinking the same thing.

  A group of guys stared down at the floor near a table. One stepped back. There, on the ground, was a jean-clad leg with a pair of buff high-heeled boots. Boots Abbi had worn just days ago.

  My chest ripped open. “Abbi!”

  “What?” Kai yelped.

  I didn’t bother to answer, just kept forcing my way through the crowd. I bellowed her name, but she didn’t stir. A guy was leaning over her.

  Kai and Dane were at my side, forming a wedge so we could finally cut through the crowd. I dropped to my knees. Blood poured from her chin and her mouth.

 

‹ Prev