Heartstrings

by Kelli McCracken

  Brighton smoothed his pants with his hands and glanced toward the French doors. “You’re right, on both accounts.”

  “Where is he?”

  My brother’s posture grew rigid. “We’re getting to that, sis.”

  “When?”

  “When I know for a fact you’re not lying to me. When I know you’ve remembered all the important facts.”

  I fisted my hands. It took everything I had not to plant my fist in his jaw. How could he keep me from my fiancé? Hadn’t he kept enough from me as it was?

  After gathering my patience, I loosened my grip and stroked the edge of the mattress. “Fine. Let’s do this. Where do we begin?”

  “From the beginning.” He leaned over and patted the guitar. “This is your beginning, Jo. I bought this guitar from Adam about six months after he and I met. It’s the reason the two of you met.”

  “You, Adam, and Pax… you formed a band. Rough Riders. The three of you have been friends as long as Hadley and me.” Once he confirmed my question with a nod, I continued. “I met Paxton before I met Adam. He used to come into the coffee shop and chat with me on my break. I didn’t meet Adam until a month later, when you bought this guitar.”

  “You’re doing good, sis. You’ve been correct on everything you’ve said.”

  Brighton didn’t look my way. He peered toward my lap, where the guitar lay, and rubbed the scruff on his jaw. “What else do you remember?”

  Many things. So many things, I didn’t know how I’d forgotten any of them. Adam and Paxton were brothers, half brothers. All the memories surrounding that fact flooded my mind. How Adam’s father was a junkie who left him and his mom before she gave birth. How she married Paxton’s dad when Adam was a few months old, and delivered Paxton a year later. How their mom developed cancer a few years before we met.

  “He didn’t want to give up this guitar. The only reason he parted with it was to help pay his mom’s medical expenses.”

  “I tried to give him the money from my trust fund, but he was too proud to accept charity.” Brighton grunted. “Said he wouldn’t take anything for free, no matter how good of friends we were. I mentioned the guitar. Told him I would buy it. We both knew its worth so he felt it was a good deal. But when I told him it was going to be a gift, he had one stipulation before agreeing to sell.”

  I choked as the memory flooded my mind. “He had to meet whoever it was going to.”

  Brighton finally met my eyes. “When he handed you that guitar… Even I could feel the sparks.”

  Shrugging out of the strap, I placed the guitar against the mattress and stood. My heart began racing as more memories danced in my head. “Our first year together was rough. You guys were crazy with gigs. I was accepted into the symphony and went on the road for a few months. Then I returned, and…” I sucked in a searing breath, one that burned me inside and out. “His mom… The cancer won.”

  Silence grew between us, as if we were dedicating that time to her remembrance. It was during this time that I remembered the tattoos Adam and Paxton got in her memory. Roses and thorns surrounded a banner that contained their mother’s name.

  Brighton cleared his throat and raked his fingers through his hair. “We all loved Georgia Carr. She was like a second mom to me, to both of us.”

  “I know,” I whispered.

  I didn’t know Georgia long before she died. The fact that I didn’t angered me because I knew I’d missed out. She was an amazing woman with a heart so big she found nothing but positivity in everything, even as she was decaying from the inside out. Not once was she negative about the hand she’d been dealt. She took her death in stride and faced it head-on. She was brave. She was my hero.

  “Losing Georgia was hard on all of us, but it was brutal on Adam and Paxton. I thought they would lose it.” I grumbled at the thought. “Guess Adam sorta did.”

  Painful memories bled through my mind. I wished they wouldn’t have returned. It was like reliving them all over. The three-month breakup between Adam and me. How I grew so depressed. I couldn’t move for a week. How Paxton brought me out of it and comforted me through the pain. I did the same for him over losing his mom. It all resulted in a month-long fling, one we used in an attempt to forget our heartbreak.

  “I loved both of them.” I wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Both knew how I felt, as well as how the other felt about me. So did Brighton and Hadley.

  “I know you loved them, Jo,” he cleared his voice, “but you made the right choice. Adam was grounded. Paxton wasn’t.”

  He was right, but it didn’t make my breakup with Paxton any less hurtful. I cared about him. A lot. But Adam… He was my true half.

  Brighton stood from the bed and proceeded toward me. He shoved his hand in his pocket, yanked something out, and reached forward. As I opened my hand, palm side up, he dropped the item inside. Then he backed away, and my vision blurred with more tears.

  “They removed it at the hospital after they brought you in.”

  I stared at the princess cut diamond ring—my engagement ring. A new wave of memories came to the surface, memories of Adam blindfolding me, then driving me to this house. He helped me out of his car, removed the blindfold, and showed me the property he’d purchased. But the highlight of the day was when we stood in the backyard, between the trees that held the hammock, and he knelt down on one knee.

  Marry me, Josie. Please, marry me. I want to love you forever…

  “He proposed out back between the birch trees, right after he showed me this house.” I swiped at my face, annoyed by the new stream of tears leaving my eyes. “It’s why we put the hammock there. We used to sit in it together and relax. It’s where I told him…” My voice cracked. Brighton winced as he reached for me, but I shook my head and backed away. “It’s where I told him about our baby.”

  I wrapped my arms around my waist. No wonder Paxton said I didn’t owe him an apology when I remembered losing my son. It wasn’t his child. It was his nephew.

  “Oh God, Brighton. I can’t take this anymore. Haven’t I told you enough? I need to see Adam. Where is he? Please. Tell me where my fiancé is.”

  Brighton crushed me to his chest. “I’ll take you to him, Jo.” He rubbed my back in circles then eased away. “Can you grab a sweater? The air is a little nippy.”

  I didn’t think twice about his request and found my sweater hanging on a hook near my closet. I shoved my arms inside and pulled it tight as Brighton moved toward the bedroom door. But the minute he turned the knob, a wave of panic hit me.

  “Wait a minute. You said you have to take me to see Adam. Why can’t he come here? Where is he?”

  Brighton froze. He stood in silence a few more seconds, then peered over his shoulder. “He’s at Lakeview Hospital, in ICU.”

  * * *

  The elevators opened to the hospital’s second floor. I sucked in a deep breath, unable to find the strength to step out. I wouldn’t have left the car had Brighton not helped me. The twenty-minute drive through town remained a blur, except for our conversation, the one about how this whole mess started.

  Even though I recalled the events that led up to the accident, I still couldn’t believe they were true. Brighton confirming they were didn’t make it any more believable. How could he treat Paxton the way he did when he caught him purchasing cocaine? Brighton was a recovering addict. He should have been a role model and talked to Paxton about his recent addiction. Instead, he punched him in the middle of a backstage corridor in Detroit, then ratted him out to Adam.

  Brighton knew better. Adam didn’t take kindly to drug addicts. The fact that his biological father was an addict didn’t help the situation. Neither did Adam and Paxton’s past conflicts, conflicts that began because of me…

  As Brighton grabbed my arm just above my elbow, he escorted me out of the elevator. I walked at a slow pace, still caught up in the minutes before the accident. Had Rough Riders not performed in Detroit on New Year’s Eve, none of this would have happened. Not th
at it mattered now. They couldn’t have refused the performance, not when it was their shot at being signed to an agent.

  I’m not sure why Paxton chose to get high that night. Part of me was convinced it was the conversation he and I had a few hours before the show. As much as I cared about him, I couldn’t be with him. Adam and I were engaged. We were expecting a child, but Paxton couldn’t let go.

  My heart ached for him. It’s why I agreed to drive him back to Toledo after the confrontation with Brighton. He was high and determined to go home that night. No way I was allowing him to get behind the wheel and kill someone.

  Consequently, we did anyway.

  I rubbed my belly, fighting back tears. Why did Adam have to argue with me about taking Paxton home? Why did he insist on following us to apologize for his behavior? Brighton should have talked him out of it instead of driving him, not that it would have prevented the accident. It’s hard to see black ice in the day until it’s too late. Seeing it at night was just as difficult.

  It was a hard lesson learned, especially for the car that lost control first. Brighton explained how the man driving it lost his family. I understood that pain. My child was gone, and if Adam didn’t recover…

  It was crazy to think that we almost died in a twenty-car pile up on the interstate. The accident that claimed my parents’ lives hadn’t been as big, but it would have been ironic for Brighton and I to die the same way.

  We passed a nurse in the corridor, rolling an IV stand. Brighton greeted her with recognition, as she did the same. And she wasn’t the only one he called by name. The woman pushing the housekeeping cart exchanged cordial sentiments with him as well.

  Then it hit me. This is where he’d been when he wasn’t with me. Adam was his friend, his best friend. I came out of my coma. Adam didn’t. Of course my brother would spend his free time here. Knowing as much was like a punch in the gut. While I spent my days depressed and angry with my brother, he was sitting by his friend’s side.

  I was ashamed of myself…

  As we came to the last door at the end of the hallway, my chest tightened. Adam was on the other side of this door. We would finally be reunited, at least physically. I prayed he would wake up soon. I needed him to wake up.

  Had he not been so concerned about me that he left Brighton’s car and pulled me out of mine, he may not be unconscious. He was hurt. Bad. How he managed to orient himself after Brighton’s car spun us into the guardrail was beyond me. I couldn’t remember much. But I did remember one thing—Adam cradling my back as I lay on the ground beside my car. He begged me to stay with him, to just breathe.

  Just Breathe…

  He’s said those words to me every time I saw him in the weeks since I regained consciousness. I still wasn’t sure how he appeared to me if he was in a coma. Was it all a dream? Was it old memories? Or was it something else?

  Had Adam’s soul come in search of mine?

  ~ CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE ~

  My stomach flipped when Brighton pushed on the door to Adam’s room. It lurched again when the door swung open and revealed Paxton sitting in a chair near the foot of the bed. When he noticed us, he stood and walked our way. His face scrunched in confusion, but a moment later, realization smoothed away the creases.

  “You remembered, didn’t you?”

  I nodded but didn’t speak. My voice was lost in my pain. It was surreal—to be standing outside my fiancé’s hospital room while he lay in a coma, to know I was in the same serious condition less than two months ago. Now I had to enter his room and hold myself together. I wasn’t sure I had the strength. Seeing him would be hard. It would hurt like hell, and I’d already hurt enough for one lifetime.

  The foot of the bed came into view. A blanket covered Adam’s lower body. A wall prevented me from seeing the rest of him. Paxton remained in the doorway, unintentionally blocking my entrance, but he wasn’t the only thing holding me back.

  I choked on the thickness in my throat. My eyes burned as I stared into the room, too afraid to take another step. The windowpane held many flower arrangements with balloons that read get-well-soon floating above them. Rough Riders had a small group of devoted fans. I was sure these gifts were from them, and knowing as much brought me comfort. I wasn’t the only person who loved Adam. Many people were praying for his recovery.

  Paxton raised his hand toward the door and moved out of my way. “Come in, Jo. There’s a chair near the head of the bed. You look like you need to sit.”

  When I hesitated, he offered me his hand. Brighton’s hands warmed my arms, as if he would keep me from accepting Paxton’s assistance. But before I could turn and ask him to let go, he released me.

  I took Paxton’s hand and crept into the room. The rest of the bed came into view as I made a slow sweep over Adam’s body. He laid still, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with each breath he took. Tubes and wires ran in and out, connecting him to several machines beside the bed. I searched his face for any signs of trauma but none appeared. He looked good, even better than I remembered. The weeks we’d been apart had allowed him time to heal. Or so I assumed.

  Seeing him in the flesh, with his fringed bangs and creamy skin, made my heart sing. Then I noticed the tube in his mouth and reality set in. Adam was on life-support. Just because he looked okay didn’t mean he was, and knowing as much made my knees shake. I leaned against Paxton, hoping he’d catch me if I passed out.

  “You okay, Jo?”

  I couldn’t form any words to answer him. The muscles in my legs wanted to give out. I’d be on the floor in a matter of seconds if I didn’t get a grip and steady my heart.

  Brighton must have sensed my anxiety. He stepped beside me, speaking in a soft voice. I paid little attention to what he was saying. I was too wrapped up in Adam and the pain that seeing him caused.

  A pliable surface greeted my bottom as Brighton helped me to the chair. He knelt before me, squeezing my upper arm until I met his gaze. “God, Jo, I’m sorry. I knew coming here would affect you like this.” He waited for my response, but all I could do was nod my head. “We skipped breakfast too. Maybe you need to eat. I’ll go down to the cafeteria and get you something. Be right back.”

  He left the room before I could object. I didn’t want to eat. I wanted Adam to wake up, to look at me with those breathtaking eyes, and tell me everything would be okay. It was bad enough I’d lost our child. To lose him too…

  There was no stopping the tears rolling down my face, not even when Paxton came closer and squeezed my shoulders. An influx of anger and sadness battled for predominance. Sadness won out in the end.

  “This is all too familiar, Pax.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Being in a hospital, waiting for someone to recover from an accident.”

  He squeezed my shoulders again, then rubbed them with his palms. “Yeah, except I wasn’t in a coma. I just had road rash from hell.”

  “It didn’t keep me from sitting at your bedside praying for your recovery. I knew that motorcycle was a bad idea the day you bought it.”

  “In all fairness, I’m a good driver. People just have a hard time seeing motorcycles.” He had a valid point, but I didn’t tell him as much, even when he released my shoulders and stepped in front of me. “Would you have stayed with me if I’d sold it?”

  “You know I didn’t leave you because of the motorcycle.”

  The pain of my words reflected on his face when he winced. It was crazy to think that being at his bedside is what initially brought Adam and I back together. I didn’t want to bring up those memories, but now that I had his attention, I had to continue, no matter how much it hurt him or me.

  “I let you go, Paxton. You were supposed to do the same.”

  “It’s a little easier said than done. My head was convinced you were right. My heart wasn’t. Our hearts can’t think. They only feel, and I didn’t want to feel anything after we split up.”

  “Pax… It’s those types of thoughts that brought us
to this point. I told you the same thing when I came to see you after the concert.”

  I waited to see if he’d look at me, but he didn’t. He ran his finger over the inseam of his jeans. It was like a repeat of our last discussion, the same night as the accident. But this time, I was determined to get my point across.

  “It wasn’t like I’d dropped a bomb on you when I came to your dressing room. We had the same discussion the day we broke up. You knew Adam and I got engaged six months later. You knew we were living together. And the baby…Adam told you he was going to be a father not long after we found out.” I choked on my emotions again, causing him to glance up. “Pax, you and I…we weren’t meant to be.”

  “I told myself the same, but I loved you, Jo. I wanted you back. I thought I had a chance as long as you weren’t married. I told you as much when you came to my dressing room, just like I told you how I would love my nephew like my own. We were blood anyway.”

  “You still don’t get it.” I shook my head and glared at the floor. “I loved you too, Paxton, and part of me always will. But I chose your brother. My heart is with Adam.”

  “And what if he doesn’t make it, Jo?” His breath blew into my hair, tickling my forehead, but I refused to look up. The moment I did, I’d lose it.

  “Do you care so little about him, Paxton?”

  “You know I care about him. Problem is, I care about you too. The time we spent together last week…it was like being with you all over again. You wanted me. You made out with me.”

  I glared up at him and pointed my finger toward the bed. “Because I couldn’t remember him.”

  Paxton’s throat wobbled. Then he cleared it. “I know…which is why I stopped. In fact, I told you that you’d hate me if I continued.”

  So he had. Touché.

  “This whole fiasco is selfish, Paxton. You couldn’t handle rejection, so you turned to drugs. Your choice left me with amnesia. Your brother is fighting for his life, and your nephew is gone. Was it worth it? Was I worth it?”