Dead Rockstar (The Dead Rockstar Trilogy Book 1)

Chapter 21

The phone rang,shrill and loud in the quiet of Phillip”s old house, the opening bars of Bloody Good Fun echoing through the room. I rolled over, groaning, cursing myself for not putting it on silent before falling asleep.

“Change that ringtone immediately,” Phillip grumbled from where he was buried under a pillow. He unearthed himself and wiped the sleep from his eyes, his hair was sticking up all over his head, making him look about twelve years old, despite the heavy five o’clock shadow on his strong jaw. His eyes were as bleary as mine no doubt were. We”d stayed up half the night, talking and doing other things that definitely didn”t involve sleep. “The last thing I need to wake up to is my own fucking voice. I always hated that song.”

“It”s one of your best,” I said, giving him a sassy look, leaning over him to grab the phone off the night stand. His skin was warm, and I fought the temptation to pull him back down under the covers with me. I looked down at the phone; the number was unfamiliar, but the area code was for Jekyll. It was probably Sloan. Thank goodness – I was beginning to go out of my mind, not hearing from her. “Totally underrated. And I know your music better than anybody. I”m your biggest fan, remember?”

He muttered something sarcastic in reply and planted a whispery kiss on my shoulder, then was out of bed, pulling his black boxer briefs over his muscular thighs. I dared a quick glance and a wink, and then hit the green button with my finger. “Hello?”

“Stormy.” The voice on the other end of the line was familiar. “It”s Lee. Don”t hang up.”

“Jesus Christ, Lee-”

“I’ve left town,” he interrupted. “And I don”t want to bother you. I just...I wanted to check if you guys were okay – you…and Phillip.”

“We”re fine,” I said, watching Phillip”s retreating naked back as he walked into the little blue bathroom. All the tension had finally gone out of him, and he was standing straight, posture straightened, no longer weighted down. He was whistling the bars to a song I didn”t recognize. Was he writing again? “Better than fine. We”re leaving today. Not that it”s any of your business. And I trust that your mother won”t be bothering us anymore.”

“I”m glad to hear it. And no, she won”t. I”m sure you hate her, and I guess you have good reason, but she was just trying to...well. You know. She isn”t a bad woman. But I guess it doesn”t matter now. I assume you and Phillip are done with all your searching, anyway.”

“For now, I guess,” I answered distractedly. “We know about all there is to know about the spell, don”t we? I can figure out the rest on my own. I don’t hate your mother, for the record, but no offense, I’ll be glad to see the back of all of you. Even Guthrie, though I’ve never met him.” I sighed. “I hope I never do. I’m happily going back to Jekyll, out of all of your hair forever.” I almost giggled at the word hair, which would forever have new meaning to me now.

There was silence on the other end of the line. I heard Phillip turning on the shower, the knobs squeaking, the pipes grinding on.

“Stormy.” Lee”s voice had lowered and sounded weird. “How dumb can you be?”

I bristled. “What are you talking about?”

“Guthrie lives on Jekyll Island.” There was a pause. “You seriously haven’t figured that out?”

I sat there in shocked silence, unable to speak. I had seen the area code right there on my phone but when I”d answered… Lee’s phone was registered in southern Georgia. I’d met him at the Brunswick Farmers Market. He’d snooped around my house so easily because he lived nearby.

With his father.

Guthrie.

“Stormy?”

I stammered. “But your mother said she didn’t know-”

“She doesn’t. She doesn’t want to know where he is; she’s happier in ignorance, so I’ve never told her,” he said. “But you should know the truth.”

“All this time he”s been there?” I was dumbfounded. “On Jekyll?”

“Yes.”

“But...” I stammered. “Phillip and I drove all the way to Boston to find him! You knew where we were going and why! You let us go on a wild goose chase knowing all the while that he was back where we started?” My heart began to pound. “All that talk about getting back to Jekyll because I was safer there – you lied!”

“I had orders,” he said.

“You lied,” I repeated, desperate. “Or you’re lying now.”

“Who do you think hired Tess? How else would Guthrie know him if he didn’t live nearby?” Lee argued. “Why do you think youof all people could tap into the spell? Did you think all of that was a coincidence? No, it”s because of where you”re from – your proximity to Guthrie.” I noticed he didn”t call him Dad. “You’ve never understood the scope of this. I tried to warn you…he’s nearer to you than you could ever realize.”

“No,” I said, angry. This was supposed to all be finally over. “No.”

Lee went on as if I hadn”t spoken. “When Ma finally kicked him out for good, years ago, Guthrie went to live near his sister in South Georgia, my aunt. He’s always wanted Mom’s magic. She told him she’d hex him if he so much as came near her again. This thing with Phillip and the spell has been a bone of contention between them for over twenty years. So Guthrie has been trying to find other ways to tap into the magic all this time. He’ll use anything – and anyone – at his disposal.”

“How did he find me?”

“I don’t know.” Lee answered, and I sensed he was telling the truth. “I wish I did.”

“Lydia told me,” I said. “That you’re…like Phillip.”

He was silent for a moment before answering. Then in a quiet voice, he said, “It”s true. I”m like Phillip – well, that”s the only way I”m like him.” There was bitterness in his tone. “But I wasn’t talking about me. I was talking about you. And your loved ones. Guthrie will do anything to tap into the magic.” His voice was tired, but also frantic. “Look, Stormy, ignore everything I said before. It”s best for you to stay away. As in, stay away from Boston and from Jekyll. I love my parents, but I can”t protect you from them forever.”

“All this time you kept telling me to go back to Jekyll, and now you”re changing your tune.”

“That was before,” he said, “Now that I know you plan to use your magic, it”s different.”

“I won”t,” I said fiercely

“Yes, you will,” he replied. “Both Ma and I could see it in your aura, clear as day. Deny it all you want, but it shines in you.” He paused, his voice tender. “If I”m being honest, I could see the shine right from the beginning, starting with the day I met you. You were glowing that day – really pretty.”

Jesus, how stupid was I? I had run into Lee – literally –the same day I”d seen Phillip. He said he was visiting his aunt. And I suddenly knew, with absolute certainty, that his aunt was the Goat”s Milk Soap lady. The woman who had sold me the bundle of sage. The one I”d used in the spell. I remembered seeing her holding out a delicate pink soap to Phillip, who had been watching me. None of this had been a coincidence. Fuck. FUCK. It had all been smoke and mirrors, to use Phillip’s term. It had all been by design, all part of an elusive, enormous trap. None of us had any choice in anything at all, it seemed. It seemed that everybody in my orbit, in one way or another, belonged to Guthrie. “I”ll never use magic again. Ever.”

“Oh, Stormy.” Lee’s voice was tired and sad. “You can”t un-ring a bell.”

I ripped at the skin around my fingernails, my mind in a whirl. “Why me?”

After a moment, he continued, as though I hadn”t asked the question. “I wish you all the happiness in the world. I hope to see you again, in this lifetime or another.” There was a click and I dropped my phone in my lap.

As I heard Phillip”s razor-velvet voice echoing among the spray of the shower, I looked down at the phone at my list of received calls, the Jekyll Island area code, and over to our already-packed bags, and let out a long sigh.

The first hourof driving had just been me sitting in my truck, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, trying to swallow my tears. My undersized suitcase was sitting on the seat beside me, looking forlorn and small without Phillip”s large black suitcase beside it.

Lucky for me, my cell phone was now working perfectly, and my GPS was telling me where to go, because I didn”t have the first clue how to get from Massachusetts to Georgia. The furthest I”d even driven on my own was Fort Lauderdale, and I”d been nauseated with panic the entire time. I didn”t do long distances. I make more brave souls, like Sloan, who have no logical fear of death, do all that shit for me. But this time I hadn”t had a choice. Or had I? I supposed it didn”t matter now.

Spotify was working now, too. Of course it was. The source of the disturbance was no longer there to interfere. I was listening to God is Dead by the Bloomer Demons, which was the absolute last thing I wanted or needed to hear right now, but it was my self-inflicted punishment.

I was doing the right thing, but the guilt in my heart demanded a punishment anyway.

He would never, ever forgive me.

My truck was making a horrible rattling sound and I prayed to a god I didn”t believe in that I could at least make it back to Georgia before the thing finally died a slow and painful rusty death. If I could just make it home, if I could just get back – I could hopefully make everything right again.

Not right for me – no, I would never be right again, not without Phillip – but right for him, and even for Lee and Lydia, though they didn”t deserve it. Right with the world, even and settled and no longer askew. Then I could crawl back to my shitty little trailer and live my lonely, divorced life with Blinken and my library books and try to forget that all this had ever happened.

As if I could forget.

I gripped the wheel even tighter, blinking my eyes against the oncoming dusk and fatigue that seemed to be making my vision blurry. It wasn”t tears. I would not be shedding tears.

My phone rang. With a quick swipe of my finger, I muted the call without so much as looking at the number, and kept on driving, the music pounding in my ears like a lover”s accusation.

Another hour passed, and I stopped at a gas station to fill up. It was one of those truck-stop gas stations with a greasy spoon built in, and I figured I needed to put something in my stomach to keep up my strength, so despite my better judgement I popped inside, wincing at the acrid smell of over-fried bacon and eggs cooked in butter. I slid into a booth and ordered a cup of coffee.

I rubbed at my bleary eyes as the waitress wrote on her pad. “Do you know if the apple pie is vegan?” I asked.

She blinked. “I”m not sure.”

“Is the crust made with margarine or butter?” I felt like a burden, an annoyance. It seemed to be a theme with me lately.

She blinked again. “Margarine.”

“I”ll have a slice, then,” I said. “Thanks.”

She wandered off and I put my head in my hands, exhausted. I was tempted to just lay my head down on the Formica table and go to sleep, but I knew sleep wouldn”t come. My nerves were frayed, and my stomach was doing somersaults. What was he feeling? Was he angry? Had he cried? Did he hate me or was he relieved? Despite by best efforts, my mind went back to the note I”d left in Phillip”s old room, the note he no doubt found right after getting out of the shower. I”d left it on his suitcase, being sure he”d see it when he went to dig out his clothes.

Phillip,

I”m so sorry.

When you see this,I”ll already be gone. That is, if I”m able to get out of here fast enough. I hope I can because I know you”ll try to stop me, and I can”t let you do that. Thank god you take the longest showers of anybody I know.

I love you. But you don”t belong on Jekyll Island with me. When I did the spell, I never dreamed it would work. But it did. And now you”re here with another chance at life. Bringing you back a second time was selfish. You were right to be angry. As long as you”re with me, risk and danger will follow, and youdeserve better. You really do. Seeing you in your boyhood home made me even more certain – it”s where you belong, with your best friends and your memories and a chance for happiness.

I love you,Phillip. But this is for the best. Please don”t follow me.

Stormy

The waitress satthe plate and cup down on the counter with a loud clack and I almost jumped out of my skin. I sat up, rubbed at my eyes, and thanked her, pressing my debit card into her hand to pay the bill before she had a chance to walk off.

She tapped her pad. “I warmed the pie for you and put on whipped cream. We use the fresh stuff, none of that tub junk. I”ll be right back with your receipt.”

I stifled a groan, looking at the mound of fresh dairy cream on my now-ruined pie. I pushed the plate away with a sigh. The coffee was oily and bitter. It was no more than I deserved.

I wondered what Phillip was doing right now and bit the thought off with another sigh. I didn”t deserve to know. Not after what I”d done.

I rolled backinto town what felt like a hundred hours later, feeling like something the cat had dragged in. It was a miracle I hadn”t fallen asleep on the road, but I”d managed, with the aid of five cups of coffee and a huge box of Swedish Fish that had tasted like plastic sadness. When I”d passed the “The Peach State Welcomes You” sign I had started to cry and had continued to sob for the next two hours. I was thoroughly dehydrated and half insane, but I was home.

As I turned onto the familiar road to my house, I was torn. What to do? Go home and sit in the silence of my little trailer? As though nothing had ever happened? The thought seemed impossible. I”d never be able to sleep, no matter how exhausted I was. My place might as well be filled with ghosts, for the last time I”d been there Phillip had been there, too, and I couldn”t imagine walking back into that dark quiet, my old life, alone. Not after I”d left Phillip behind. I”d rather die.

I picked up my phone and dialed Sloan”s number. It had been days since we”d spoken, and whether or not she was mad at me, I was pissy that she hadn’t even bothered to update me on my cat. She was supposed to be watching him, and she knew what that damned cat meant to me. I prayed she”d finally answer and wouldn”t send my call to voicemail. My little quip about her love life had been nothing compared to the shit she’d given me in the past…if she was seriously that salty over it, well, I couldn’t help it. I’d been through hell; the least she could do was answer her damn phone.

I couldn’t be truly angry, though. I was too tired. And too sad. And too lonely. Maybe she”d meet me somewhere and come home with me, or better yet, let me spend the night at her place. I really didn”t want to be alone tonight.

She picked up on the second ring and all the blood rushed to my face in relief and surprise. “Hey.”

“Hey.” My voice came out a croak; it had been hours since I’d spoken, and I’d cried myself to the point of dehydration. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling and texting you for days!”

“Sorry,” she said, and paused. “What”s up?”

“I”m on Piedmont Street,” I said, brushing past her lackluster reply. Evidently no explanation was forthcoming. “Dreading going home. Are you at the house? I thought I might stop by.”

“No, I”m not,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Oh.” I waited for her to say more, but she was quiet. I took a shuddering breath, hating myself for being on the verge of tears, for wishing she sounded happier to hear from me. “Are you busy?”

“Not really,” she said. I waited for her to ask why, but she didn”t. Something definitely wasn’t right. Sloan usually never shut up.

“Phillip isn”t with me,” I said finally, and the floodgates opened. I started to cry.

“Oh, honey.” She clucked, after a beat. “Did you two break up?”

“Yes,” I said, relieved that she cared, though I could hear something odd in her tone. “Can you come?”

“I”ll meet you at your place,” she said. Her voice was no longer clipped and cold, but she still sounded odd. “It”ll take me a few though. I”m actually on Jekyll, so I”ll have to go over the toll and everything. Twenty minutes?”

She was on Jekyll. Why? The only person she knew out there was Gus...ah. It all clicked then. Her shortness, why she wasn”t seeing Dan, why she hadn’t been answering my calls. She was back with Gus and was afraid I was angry with her. As if I could judge her, after all I”d done. At the moment, all I felt was relief at hearing her voice. I forgave her everything, right then and there. I just needed her. If I could just see her, talk things through, it would all be all right.

“Okay.” I sniffed, trying to get myself together. “See you then. And thanks.”

“Of course.” She hung up.

I wiped at my eyes and began to drive home. I felt better already, knowing that she”d be there with me. The ache in my heart had grown with every mile I”d driven away from Phillip, and now that I was back home, back in my old town, my old life, without him, the pain was unbearable. It wasn”t just being away from Phillip that was breaking my heart, but the knowledge that I”d betrayed him. Left him while he was taking a shower, in the middle of the morning, with a shitty, abrupt note that offered no real explanation. After all the things we”d said to each other the night before. After all we”d been through.

I hadn”t seen any other way around it. When Lee had called and dropped the bombshell that Guthrie wasn”t only alive, but living just a few miles away from me, something in me had snapped. I didn”t know why I”d been used as a pawn, and I might never know. But it was obvious how very little power or control I had over my own situation where him and his odious family was concerned. I might never be free of them. But there was one thing I could control - I could keep them from Phillip, and I intended to.

I was going to confront Guthrie and do whatever was necessary. And I was going to do it alone.

But first, home. And Sloan. And a good night”s sleep, if I could fall asleep. In the morning, I would work the rest of it out. I was going to secure Phillip”s happiness – even if it meant I never saw him again.