by Mandi Beck
“Then don’t.”
“JD-”
“No, Willow. Just don’t. Let’s go to Montreal. You and Lyric can move into my place and we can get away from all of this shit. We don’t have to be over. I don’t want us to be over,” he pleads softly.
With my heart beating wildly, “I can’t hide from him forever. What kind of life would that be, constantly hiding from Stone because I can’t control the way I feel about him?”
“It would be different in time.” His argument is weak; we both know it.
“It’s been almost two years, Joaquin. Two years filled with so much pain and rebuilding. So much. And yet, here we are, and I can’t hurt you anymore than I already have and that’s exactly what’s going to happen.” I bring a hand to his face, running a thumb over his downturned mouth peeking through the ebony softness of his beard. “I could love you. I know I could because you’re you and everything calm and good I want in my life. And Stone is chaos. Choosing between the calm and chaos of love should be a no-brainer. But it’s not.” Taking a deep breath and letting my hand fall to his arm, “I can’t love you like you deserve to be loved. I can never love anyone the way that I did . . . do, Stone. Unfortunately, I don’t think that will change no matter if we’re together again in this lifetime or the next. I was blind to think that it could.” The tears are still falling, my heart is breaking for what could’ve been, but I know that I’m doing the right thing. Joaquin knows it’s the right thing. He may not be happy with me now, but in the long run, given time, he’ll see.
Taking his face in mine, I rise up on my tiptoes and place one last lingering kiss on his warm lips. One kiss to convey so much. A goodbye, a thank you, an apology. As I break away, he pulls me back for just a second, pressing his mouth more firmly to mine before letting me go reluctantly.
“Goodbye, Joaquin.”
“Goodbye, Willow.”
Stone
I’VE BEEN BACK IN AUSTIN for exactly thirty-six hours and all I can think about is Willow and getting back to her and Lyric. We spent the first week in LA at the label’s headquarters and then here at the satellite offices going over shit I’m not ready for. Maybe it’s because my mind is on the girls and getting back to Toronto. I threw Wills off the other night at The Dirty Bird. She hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts since. It was a huge public display and it was in front of her boyfriend. Which, I’m not gonna fucking lie, was just a bonus. Let him see what he’s up against. But now I don’t know if she’s pissed or what, and I’m stuck in meetings and shit for the next few days in a completely different country.
“Stone, are you even listening to me?” The soft feminine voice cuts into my thoughts. I shake my head no and adjust the lolli in my mouth. I used to call them suckers ’til Wills demanded I call them lollies because she hated the word “sucker.” Crazy ass. I chuckle to myself causing an exasperated huff. “I said I want to be here with you, but if you’re going to be in Canada, I’d like to go there, at least for a couple days. I haven’t spent enough time with you. I miss you.”
I really don’t want anyone in Canada. It’ll take my focus off of Willow and Lyric. Or take Willow’s focus off me, and I need all the help I can get.
“Now’s not a good time. I’ll be here for a few days. We can spend time together but you coming with me isn’t a good idea. At least not right now.” Drawing her into my arms, I give her a tight hug. “Bear with me. I just need some time.”
“Fiiiinnneeee,” she drags out. “You’re lucky I know you love me or I would think you didn’t want your little sister around,” Scarlet pouts.
Squeezing her one last time, I release her and move to sit on the couch motioning for her to follow. She flops down across from me and I shake my head at her theatrics. Aside from her being a tad dramatic, Scarlet and I might as well be twins. Both of us covered in ink, same gray eyes, damn near rocking the same haircut even. We were separated by social services when our mother OD’d—guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree—and went years without knowing where the other was. Wasn't until high school when Law’s mom helped me find her that we reconnected, but now it’s like we were never apart.
“I really would like to go with you back to Toronto. It would be nice to see Wills and meet my niece.” Scarlet looks at me pointedly. “I love Willow. I could kill you for fucking things up with her, but it's not right that she didn't tell you about Lyric.”
Her accusations piss me off. Even if things weren't the way they are, I wouldn't have blamed Will's for not telling me. Not until she was sure I was clean. It should've been a dead giveaway that something wasn't right when she didn't. I crunch down on the lollipop and toss the stick into the ashtray.
“Don't. You don't know the whole story, Scar. Don't make judgments on her,” I advise firmly, trying not to sound like a dick. I won’t tell my sister the truth because it’s not anyone’s business. If I have my way, no one will ever know aside from the few people that already do. In fact, I plan on putting the ball into motion while I’m here. At least the trip won’t be a total pain in my ass.
“I’m not judging, just a little upset since she knows how we grew up,” she continues.
“How is that, Scarlet? You in a loving home, with doting parents, traveling the country?” Guess I should have tried harder to not be a dick, but her talking down on Willow, even though she’s coming from a good place, is doing my ass in.
“Since this is obviously a sore subject and I don’t feel like fighting with you, I’m going to drop it. Just know that I’m anxious to see them both.” Scarlet stands and comes over to pop a kiss to my head. “You don’t always have to be such a hard ass, you know. I get that you’re hurting. We can talk about it whenever you want. But you don’t get to be an asshole to me for caring.” There isn’t any heat in her words. It makes me feel even worse.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted. Buy me something pretty and we’ll forget it ever happened,” she teases.
“I’m not buying you shit, you mooch,” I kid.
“Hey! Consider me property management. You don’t want to have an empty mansion for someone to squat in,” Scarlet deadpans.
“It’s hardly a mansion, and you are the squatter.” Darting off the couch, I just miss her swinging fist. She almost catches me when I go sliding into the foyer, her hot on my heels. “No running in the house, Scarlet!” My voice echoes around the empty space, so loud I don’t hear the doorbell right away. “Shh, was that the door?”
“Oh shut up you cheater!” She giggles, coming at me again, when we hear it more clearly this time.
“I told you,” I say smugly, reaching for the door handle. I don’t bother asking who it is. Dane is at the gate house; he won’t let anyone up that I don’t want to see. He’s sent Ron the drug dealer away more than once. Makes me crazy to think that he’s still lurking. I should’ve turned his ass in and done us both a favor, but there’s that saying about snitches getting stitches and all. Wrenching the door open, I smile when I see Law, Judge, and Ro standing there.
“Why are you ringing the bell? Where’s your key?” moving aside so they can come in.
“Forgot it in the truck,” Law says, squeezing by and slapping my ass as he passes. “You ready, pussy?”
“Ready for what?” I ask.
“You didn’t even look at the schedule that Addy gave you yesterday, did you?” Judge chastises. Ro just chuckles and takes Scar’s arm and leads her into the living room to sit.
“Damn it, Stone. We need to be downtown for a shoot in less than thirty minutes.” He’s aggravated, obviously.
“Umm, so the fuck what?” I look at Law for some help and he just raises his palms, basically telling me I’m on my own. “Are you not here to get me? Let’s go. I’m sure they’re going to put me in whatever the fuck they want me to wear anyway, so what’s the problem, bro?” I cross my arms over my chest and wait for him to tell me what his deal is.
“Nothing. I would
just like to not have to hold everyone’s fucking hand for one God damn day,” he spits out, stalking back out the front door.
With wide eyes I turn to Lawson. “What the motherfuck was that?”
“Dude, I have no clue. He got a phone call and that’s how he’s been ever since. No clue who it was even from,” Law answers as he starts out the front door he just came through. Grabbing my keys and phone, I stick my head into the living room and call for Ro, “Yo, let’s go. Before he kills us all,” I joke.
“Ooh, can I go?” Scarlet asks, jumping to her feet. She’s a model when she’s not working as a nanny, so while this is torture for us, it’s a wet dream for her.
“Yeah, just don’t poke the Judge. He’s pissy as fuck.”
She mumbles something under her breath, and I swear it sounded like she said, “I’ll let the Judge poke me.”
“What did you say, Scar?” I demand.
“Nothing,” she singsongs as she breezes by me.
All of a sudden I’m rethinking her tagging along.
I’m tired as hell. We’ve been nonstop for days but we got shit done. Promo shoot, done. Meetings with the label and another with my finance guys, done. There’s nothing else that I care enough about doing here. I’m ready to get back to Wills.
Pulling out my suitcase, I decide I’m going to do just that. Fuck staying here and driving myself crazy. Why sit and wonder what she’s doing, whether Joaquin is there, if Lyric is walking yet, when I can drive us all crazy and be there? With some renewed energy, I start packing clothes and shit that I didn’t want the moving guys to touch. I hadn’t moved all of my stuff, just my essentials. I don’t know what Willow’s long term plans are, but if they include Toronto then so do mine. But this is our home and I’ll never get rid of it. Let my sister stay here for as long as she wants.
Once my suitcase is full, I zip it up and pull out my phone, balancing it between my shoulder and ear while I roll the case out into the hall. I get Judge’s voicemail and promptly hang up. I dial the airline next and book a flight to Toronto that leaves in a little less than two hours. Hoisting the luggage, I go down the stairs to find Scarlet and tell her I’m leaving. As I walk through the kitchen, I dial Judge again, again going to voicemail. I click off and dial Addy, who, of course, picks up on the second ring because she’s fucking awesome.
“Addy girl! I need a favor.”
“Of course you do, darlin’,” she responds in her soft drawl. “Whatcha need?”
“I’m on the next flight to Toronto. I can’t get a hold of Judge; can you let him know for me?”
“Flying out? Commercial?” she asks as she types frantically. I can hear the clicking of the keys as she scrambles on the other end of the phone line.
“Yup. No time to get the plane ready.”
“Oh. Judge didn’t mention you guys flying out so soon,” Addy says hesitantly. Feeling me out.
“There’s nothing else on my schedule, right?”
“Umm, kind of? You’re all done with all of your meetings and promo stuff. Bu-”
“Perfect,” I interrupt. “Just let him and the boys know.”
She sighs in defeat. Clearly realizing that nothing she can say is going to keep me here. “Just you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, they’re welcome to come along, but I’m leaving in less than two hours. I’m not waiting for them.” I find my sister, finally, out by the pool, and slide the door open and walk out into the hot Texas sun. The sun reflecting off the water and blinding me. When she looks at me in question, I hold up a finger telling her to wait. “We good here, Addy? I need to get my ass to the airport.”
Another sigh. “Yes, Stone. We’re good. I’ll get a hold of them all now.”
“Thanks. You’re the best.” Just as I’m disconnecting, I hear her call out my name.
“Stone! Stone, are you taking Dane with you?”
“Yup. If I’m flying commercial, I figured I should bring him with so Judge doesn’t kill me,” I chuckle.
“Oh, he’s gonna kill you regardless, it might just hurt less if you bring Dane,” Addy says, giggling herself now. “Call me when you land, you troublemaker.”
“I’ll call. And you love me,” I say quickly before hanging up.
“So I take it you’re leaving?” my sister asks, peering at me over the top of her sunglasses.
“Yup. I’m heading out now. You gonna be okay?” I don’t doubt for a second that she will be, but she’s still my sister and there’s still something going on that she’s not telling me about.
“I’ll be fine. Be careful and call me when you land.” Pushing her glasses back up on her nose, she turns her face up to the sun. “Let me know when I can come meet my niece,” she calls out.
“I will. Call me if you need anything,” I throw over my shoulder, already at the door. Satisfied when she raises a hand in acknowledgment. Putting my own sunglasses on, I walk out the front door to let Dane know we’re going. In a few hours I’ll be in Toronto and seeing my girls. I just hope Joaquin isn’t around. I’m in much too good of a mood to fuck with him today. If he is though, I’ll have had a three-hour flight to think about what memory I can torture him with now. The thought has me smiling all the way down the drive, whistling a jaunty tune. I warned him. Rock star without rhythm . . . is a man with no soul.
Willow
STONE IS SITTING ON MY porch smoking when I pull into the drive after my class. When he sees me, he snubs out the cigarette and meets me at the Jeep. “Hey Birdie,” he says softly, as he pops open the back door.
“What are you doing here, Stone?” I ask tiredly, watching him unbuckle Lyric, being careful not to wake her. Gently he lifts my daughter out and settles her tiny sleeping self on his shoulder, pressing a kiss into her hair and murmuring to her soothingly when she stirs. The sight takes my breath away. It literally steals every little bit of air I have watching his tattooed hand soothe over her head and her back. I can hear him softly singing “Love Me Tender” just like I always do, as he turns and walks up the stairs, pausing at the door for me to catch up. With no other choice, I follow and unlock the door, letting us into the house. He turns and heads to Lyric's room.
“I'll take her, Stone. You don't have to do that,” I tell him, moving to take Lyric from him.
“I want to, Wills. I've missed so much with her.” His voice is pitched low so he doesn't wake her and I watch once again as he goes to put her in her room. Wild horses couldn't keep me from following behind him.
Stone enters the nursery, his singing resumed, and lays Lyric down in her crib. With steady hands, he removes her little shoes and jacket, then leans his inked up arms on the top rail and gazes down at her while he finishes the song. I can do nothing but watch from the doorway. Frozen to the spot as emotion grips me. So many times I've dreamt of this. Dreamt he was here with us, just like this. That Lyric was our daughter and we were a family. “Wills?” He breaks into my thoughts with his soft rasp.
Blinking to bring him into focus, “I'm going to make some tea,” I whisper hoarsely, leaving him next to the crib. I need the extra time to get my thoughts in order. He's managed to invade all my senses, break down too many of my walls.
I'm staring out the kitchen windows at the night when I see Stone walk in the room. “You okay, Birdie?” he asks with that gravelly voice of his that touches all my fragile places. I can only nod. Not trusting myself right now. My emotions are a chaotic riot. I love him. I hate him. I want to hold him. I want to hit him. I want so much, but I don't know what to do with any of it.
“Why are you here, Stone? I thought you guys were in LA and then back to Austin?” In the reflection, I watch him hop up on the counter, hands braced on the granite at either side of his legs, muscles and ink dancing with the movement. He twists the baseball cap on his head backwards, the hoop in his nose catching the light. He has on a black tank top, the material clinging to his muscled chest, the barbells through his nipples outlined making my insides do a funny little dance.
“I went. Did the meeting thing in LA then went home to Austin to check on the house and meet with the finance guys. I cut it all short. There’s nothing that can’t be handled over the phone or Skype if they really need to see my face. I didn’t want to be away from . . . here, anymore.”
He said here but he meant me. I’m sure of it. I just choose to ignore it. “What does the label want that’s so urgent?” I question curiously, moving past him to the stove and the kettle that is about to start whistling. Pulling a mug down from the cabinet right beside him, I try not to breathe him in. Fight not to lean into the warmth of him, so close I can feel his leg brushing ever so slightly against mine as he swings his feet. I peek around the cabinet at him, and find him looking at my ass. He doesn’t even pretend he isn’t when he realizes he’s been caught. He just gives me that slow Stone smile. The one that they love to capture and put on billboards it’s so damn hot. “Want some tea?”
He shrugs, “Okay.”
“So what did the boys at the label want?” I prod. This is the first normal conversation we’ve had since he’s been back in my life. I can’t help but like the familiarity of it. Of him.
“They want us back on tour. But I'm not ready.”
“Sobriety is hard. Don't push yourself.” I look down at our mugs, playing with the tea bags I’ve dropped in each, just taking a second to weigh out my next words. “I’m proud of you, Stone,” I say quietly. It’s hard for me to admit, I’m not exactly sure why, but it doesn’t make it any less true.
“Don't do that. Yes, it’s hard. It's a disease. But nobody tells cancer survivors that they're proud of them for beating it. They deserve it more than me. I'm an addict. I don't deserve accolades for that shit.”
