“I’m not making this shit up, Avery! God, do you think I really want to leave you? That I never cared? Well, you’re fucking wrong. I’m trying to do the right fucking thing here. I’m trying to do what’s best for you. I can’t stand the thought of you hating me, so I have to leave.”
“I could never hate you,” I tell him.
“You say that now, but once you’ve had time to see things clearly, you’ll know this fire was all my fault.” His lips pull into a thin line as a single tear drips down his cheek. “And you’ll despise me as much as I despise myself. I have to do this, Avery. Being with you—it was a mistake.”
My breath catches. “A mistake?”
He closes his eyes and when he reopens them, there’s a hardness in them, like he’s trying to cut off all his emotions.
“I have to refocus on my music, and there’s no room in my life for you.”
“No,” I whisper. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do mean it. You were nothing but a distraction, Avery.”
I clutch my chest, attempting to hold together pieces of my shattering heart. He’s leaving me now?
My heartbreak turns to blind rage and I pull my hand back and lash out, smacking him as hard as I can. “You selfish son of a bitch. Of all the times to break up with me, you pick the day we put my father into the ground? I can’t believe you’d do this to me. You’re heartless and cruel and I never want to see you again. Do you hear me? Never!”
I turn and bolt toward my room, not giving him any more time to hurt me with his words. Hearing that he doesn’t care enough to stay with me through one of the worst days of my life is enough to convince me that he isn’t the man I thought he was. If this is how he operates, it’s best he’s leaving now before I spend any more time falling in love with him.
Part of me hopes that that smack will knock some sense into him and he’ll come chasing after me, begging my forgiveness, but the other half of me knows that if he truly believes this was a sign from his father, then he’ll leave me.
I make it through the motel door, slam it shut, and then lean back against it. I wait with bated breath for one of two things to happen—a knock at the other side of this door or the truck engine roaring to life.
The second the engine turns over in his truck, I know that he’s not coming for me—that we are officially over and whatever I believed I shared with Tyler is now finished.
I slide down the wall and wrap my arms around my legs as I hold them against my chest. I drop my forehead down onto my knees. Tears flow and there’s no use trying to stop them because I know from this moment on, nothing in my life will ever be the same.
AVERY
Over the next week, I spend a lot of time with Granny in her room to avoid being alone and thinking about Tyler or Dad too much. At night, there are no distractions to stop my mind from reliving the worst days of my life. Tyler hasn’t called me, but I expected that much from him after the way he left me. There are so many things we still need to talk about, and I’ve worried about him a lot. I know he’s taking the blame for what happened, but I wish I could’ve made him understand that I don’t hold him responsible—that we both left that lantern on, that we both share in the guilt.
I wish I could talk to Tyler, but I’m afraid to call him. I’ll give him time and when he’s ready to come back to town, we’ll talk.
I lie on the bed and listen as Granny makes countless phone calls to her insurance company about getting money to rebuild her home and barn.
I can’t believe how many hoops you have to jump through in order to get the money that you’re entitled to.
As that thought passes, my cell rings. I grab it off the bed and the name on the caller ID makes me sit up straight as a board. It’s my mother.
My heart leaps in my chest. I haven’t spoken to her in months and I can’t imagine what in the world she’d be calling me for after all this time. From what I gather, she’s been pretty content with her new life and pretending that she doesn’t have a family that she ran out on when things got hard.
I press the green button and answer.
“Avery? Hi, darling, how are you doing?” Her voice is smooth as silk and it makes me edgy.
I debate whether or not I should tell her about Dad. I doubt she would care that he’s dead seeing as she didn’t care enough about him to stick by his side when things got tough. It’s probably best to keep the conversation light and get a feel for why she’s calling me now.
“I’m okay,” I reply.
“That’s really good to hear,” she answers. “I just heard through Stacy that your father passed in a fire. Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve liked to pay my respects. I was married to the man for nearly twenty-two years.”
That’s just like my mother—to make dad’s death all about her. I would like nothing more than to fire at her all the reasons why I didn’t contact her about Dad, but I decide against it. I’m sure my words would fall on deaf ears. I remain quiet and allow her to ramble on.
“You know you can stay with me if you’d like until you get on your feet. Jack has plenty of room, so I’m sure he won’t mind that you’re here.”
Jack . . . the doctor she left Dad for. The thought of living with her again doesn’t tempt me at all. She’s the last person I would even consider running to.
“I’m fine staying here with Granny. We’re working on getting everything rebuilt.”
She’s quiet for a few moments, but then says, “You’re a lot like him, you know. Your father was always so stubborn. It’s one of the things I loved most about him when we were young. I loved how he never wanted to settle and always pushed for more because he wanted a better life for his family than what he had growing up. He couldn’t wait to get out of Wellston.”
“It’s not so bad here,” I say as I think about the few interactions I’ve had with the locals around here. “People for the most part are friendly.”
“Sure, they’re nice, but there’s nothing there. You could benefit so much from returning to school and finishing your degree, finding a respectable guy with good prospects to marry, and really starting a life.”
Anger boils inside me, and I’m instantly brought back to the times when Mom tried to control everything about me. This is the first time we’ve spoken in so long and yet she’s still trying to dictate the best way for me to live my life when she doesn’t even know me anymore.
I’ve changed, and I’m not about to go back to being the stuck-up bitch she was trying to turn me into.
“You know what, Mom? I’m not going back to school—or at least not until I’m good and ready. I like it here. I like spending time with Granny and I think I’m going to stay here with her.”
“Avery, don’t be silly. Now that your father is gone and my attorney informed me that your father made you the sole executor of his will—”
Things instantly begin to click. “Is that why you called? Are you trying to figure out how to get the last few pennies that Dad had to his name? Divorcing him wasn’t enough? You have to try and take what little bit he has left? News flash, Mother, all he had left was his Mercedes, and if that’s what you’re calling to get, that’s too damn bad. I’m keeping it.”
“Avery! Don’t you dare speak to me that way! I am still your mother, and I think it’s only fair seeing as I was the one who encouraged him to get the life insurance policies that I get half of—”
I grip the cell so hard in my hand, it’s a wonder it doesn’t snap in two. “Shut the fuck up. You left him! He loved you and you left him like he meant nothing to you when things got tough. You don’t deserve a goddamn penny! If I’m in charge, I’ll see to it that you don’t get a dime, so don’t ever call me again, you greedy bitch.”
I slam my thumb down on the “End Call” button and throw my phone on the bed and growl. That woman is far worse than I ever thought. “What in the hell did he ever see in her?”
Granny lifts her eyebrows. “I think my boy was blinded by her beauty
.”
“I never want to be like her,” I admit out loud.
Granny cradles my chin in her hand. “You could never be like her. You’ve got too much of your father in you—a good heart. You care about more than just yourself.” She sighs. “I don’t like that she’s upset you so much. What the hell did she call for anyway?”
“Money, of course. It sounds like she wants to get her hands on Dad’s life insurance policy and she has to go through me to do it, seeing as how Dad made me the executor of his will.”
Granny smiles. “My boy was smart. I should’ve known he had things covered for tragic situations like this. Even when he’s not here, he’s taking care of you.”
I give her a tight-lipped smile. That is exactly like him—always making sure that I have everything I need.
Tears burn my eyes at the thought of never seeing him again. “I can’t believe he’s gone, Granny. He’s gone and the only thing my mother cares about is money. I hate her.”
A sob rips out of my throat and Granny instantly wraps her arms around me as we sit on the bed together. I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but I know I’ve got a long battle ahead of me.
TYLER
I roll over on the couch and pull the pillow tighter around my head, trying to block out the sound. This was one of the main reasons that I didn’t want to move in with Jimmy, but given the short notice, what choice did I have? I hadn’t planned on moving to Columbus until I had saved up enough money for a deposit on my own apartment, but I knew I couldn’t stay in Wellston where I would run into Avery.
It took everything in me to start that truck and drive away, knowing that she was already having a day from hell. I didn’t want to leave her, but I knew there was nothing else I could do. I’m no good for her. Bad shit will continue to happen to me and everyone I care about until I get on the path I’m supposed to be on, and staying with her would just bring more complications into her life that she doesn’t need.
It was a dick move to leave her the way I did, but I knew if I stayed with her in that motel room, I wouldn’t have had the strength to leave her, and I would’ve ruined both of our lives.
The woman screaming Jimmy’s name while he fucks her senseless cuts through my pillow earmuffs so I decide it’s best if I go wait outside on the patio of the apartment until they’re done. I can’t stand listening to her screeching voice.
Hopefully he’ll get rid of this one soon. He met her at the gig we played tonight, and he never stays with the barflies for more than one night.
I push myself off the couch and grab my T-shirt off the floor and pull it over my head before heading for the sliding door. I step out into the cool night air and flop down in the lawn chair that’s on the tiny patio. A notepad sits on the little table next to the chair, so I pick it up, moving Jimmy’s cigarettes and lighter to the side, and read the lyrics Jimmy scratched down. My eyes scan the words and I attempt to sing them in the same tempo that’s playing on repeat in my head.
It doesn’t take long before I come up with an entire musical accompaniment to go along with the words.
It’s not half bad, and if Jimmy would use the arrangement I’ve put together, I can see the song really coming together.
I tap out the beat of the song on my thighs with my thumbs and just as I come to the end, the sliding door opens behind me.
I turn around in my chair in time to see Jimmy poke his head out the door. “It’s safe to come back inside. I just sent her packing.”
I laugh at my crazy friend. “I take it that one isn’t a keeper?”
Jimmy shakes his head and comes out and plops down in the chair next to mine. “I gave up a long time ago trying to find a good one, man. I think finding one perfect woman you want to settle down with is nothing but a fucking myth.”
My mind drifts to Avery. Good women do exist—they’re just really hard to find.
Jimmy grabs his cigarettes off the table. The orange flickering flame from the lighter illuminates his face as he lights one up. “What do you think?”
I glance down at the notebook in front of me. “It’s good, man. I think with a few adjustments to fit the beat I just came up with, the song will be stellar.”
He takes a long drag and then blows a puff of smoke between his lips. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
I begin tapping the beat out on my legs.
Tap. Double-Tap. Tap. Tap.
I open my mouth and sing along to the beat, never chancing a glance in Jimmy’s direction. The words of the song connect with me on such a personal level. It’s about a guy who is in love with a girl that he can never have. To Jimmy, I’m sure these lyrics apply to his latest Hollywood crush, but for me, there’s only one face I see—Avery’s.
When I’m finished, my gaze flicks over to Jimmy. He’s always been a hard one to read, but the smile on his face means one of two things: Either he’s about to bust my balls or he thoroughly approves.
I nervously await his decision either way.
“I like it, Tyler,” he finally says. “It’s all emotional and shit—which is exactly the vibe we always go for. The chicks will really go for it.”
“Thanks,” I answer while relief floods me. “I think you should sing it tomorrow night at our next gig.”
Jimmy shakes his head, and the long hair on his head swishes around his face. “I don’t think so, man.”
“What? Why not? Aren’t you tired of doing nothing but covers? I think if we throw in an original song or two every now and then we can test how well the fans are going to respond to the song. It might be the thing that pushes us to the next level.”
“No. No. What I meant to say was I think you should sing it tomorrow night.”
“Me?” I question. “Why should I sing it? It’s your song.”
“Just because I wrote it doesn’t mean that I should be the one to perform the song. People write songs for other people all the time. You connect with this song on a much deeper level than I do, obviously. It makes you feel something. I could tell that by the expression on your face when you sang it. I wrote the song about a car, not about a woman, so it definitely doesn’t drudge up the same emotion in me as it does you.” He chuckles for a second but then points his finger at me while his gaze grows serious. “You . . . you sing it like you’re in love with a woman. You make it believable and that’s what validates any song.”
I rub the back of my neck, suddenly nervous that Jimmy can see through me so easily, but I know he’s right. Performers have to be able to make their audience believe them. It’s what takes a good song and turns it into something great, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to expose that side of myself to the world.
“I see those wheels turning inside that skull of yours,” Jimmy says. “Don’t overthink this like you do everything else. Just trust me on this one. This song was meant for you to sing. I can feel it. It’s like the stars are perfectly aligning and shit, pointing you to a greater destiny.”
I laugh and shake my head. “You and that fucking destiny talk shit, makes you sound like a fucking hippie.”
He smiles. “If this were the seventies I would most definitely be involved in the whole peace and love movement.”
I push myself out of the chair. “All right. I’ll do it, but I’m playing drums on this one, and we have to get the rest of the guys together and practice that shit. I don’t want to get up in front of a crowd and fucking butcher the first original that we ever do.”
Jimmy grins. “Will do, chief.”
I shake my head as I go back inside the apartment. Perhaps this is a sign that I’m back on the path that I should’ve been on all along. It appears that I’m only supposed to have my music—that there’s no room for love while I’m on this road. I would be thrilled that I’m doing what I set out to do if I could only block out the fact that I may have just sacrificed the love of my life to do it.
I twirl my drumsticks in the air as nerves rock through me. The crowd in this college bar is rowdy tonight.
It makes me nervous to sing any love-related songs because it’s obvious these people are only here to drink and find someone to take home.
We spent all afternoon practicing the original song that Jimmy wrote, and I have to admit after a few hours, we sounded decent—not perfect by far, but definitely decent. Things really came together. I just hope that we don’t make complete assholes out of ourselves and butcher such an amazing song.
Jimmy turns toward me and nods. “Count it off, man. You got this.”
His vote of confidence in me renews my spirit to perform in this crowded bar.
I click my sticks together and kick off the beat. “One . . . two . . . three . . . four!”
The bass drum echoes around the room and I follow up by banging my snare and hi-hat in perfect rhythm. I glance around the room and there are a few heads nodding, and when the other guys join in playing bass and lead guitar, things come together just like they did during our rehearsal.
I lean in toward the microphone and lick my lips before I open my mouth and sing the first verse of the song.
I see you waiting . . . waiting for me.
You don’t know how bad I wish we could be . . .
I close my eyes and picture Avery’s face. It’s not hard for me to picture myself standing in front of her begging for forgiveness because in my mind I’ve pictured it a million times. But no matter how many times I can see the scenario in my head, I know I can never attempt to make it a reality. Getting Avery back will only be a fantasy for me because I’m sure she hates me, and I don’t blame her. I would hate me too if I were her, but it doesn’t change that we weren’t fated to be together. Music is my mistress and I have to learn to give her my entire heart and push Avery out of it.
After making it through all the verses in the song, I sing the closing line and open my eyes when the roar of the crowd erupts in the bar.
Wicked Love (Wicked White Series Book 3) Page 13
