Lost Lyrics (Flintlocks #5)

Chapter 1

FLINT

It had been three years since I’d lost my brother, Phil. Thirty-six months. 1095 days. My heart and soul would be forever scarred. Not a day went by when I didn’t miss Phil or see something that reminded me of him. Despite the lingering heartache, the heaviness that used to crush my chest wasn’t crippling anymore. The loss and pain were easier to bear. Losing him had forced me to change, and I’d become a better man because of it.

Sitting in the passenger seat of my car, I smirked and stared at the chrome urn wedged between my legs. The good times with Phil had far outweighed the bad. Absolutely. I’d healed and moved on, thanks to the gorgeous woman beside me. My girlfriend, Sutton. She’d made life brighter in every way. She’d brought me out of the darkness, stood by me as my band and I had scaled to new heights, and loved me with all my flaws. I planned on never letting her go.

“Flint? Are you okay?” Heading north along the Pacific Coast Highway, she veered my Ferrari into the far lane, put her foot down, and overtook the slow dickhead in front of us. Humor caught the edge of my lip, tugging it upward. I was sure she loved driving my Portofino for the thrill and hum between her legs. But I did that to her whole body...time and time again .

In the depths of my soul, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I was crazy in love and had plans to propose in a few weeks. I just needed the final elements to fall into place. My idea had taken months to organize. But delay after delay had done my head in. I didn’t want to throw my whole plan out the door. Sutton deserved something special. She was special. Every day with her was a blessing. She was the reason I was happy, thankful, and grateful to be alive.

“Yeah. I’m good.” I rested my head back against the seat and swiveled to face her. Her long, golden blonde hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders. But her dark blue eyes shimmered with concern. She needn’t worry. I was fine. I’d be even better once I made it through the next few hours. The reality of the drive kicked in as we headed north. “I was just remembering some of the wild parties Phil and I used to go to. He loved to cause havoc.”

“Yes. So I’ve heard.” Half-smiling, she rolled her eyes, then refocused on the road ahead. Sutton hadn’t known Phil, but she’d never been impressed by the stories my bandmates—Cole and Slip—and I had often told. Fair call, he’d been a crazy motherfucker. She patted and rubbed my thigh. “But today will be hard. I’m here for you. Always.”

“Thanks, Sutt. I know you are.” I placed my hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. Trailing my fingertips up to her wrist, I tickled her soft skin, then fidgeted with the diamond bracelet I’d given her for Christmas. It sparkled in the last rays of the day.

With a twinkle in her eye, she waggled her fingers...specifically her ring one. “My bracelet needs another diamond to match.”

A chuckle rumbled low in my throat. She was never subtle. She was itching for me to pop the question. So was I. I was running out of diversionary tactics. But today, saying goodbye to Phil again was a good deflection. “One day, Sutt. I love you and our life together. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t stress.” She jabbed her finger into my thigh, then returned her hand to the steering wheel. “There’s no pressure. I’m not going anywhere either.”

Oh, there was pressure. Nothing daunting, but it was there. Every fucking day. But I could hold out for a few more weeks... hopefully .

“Good.” I loved Sutton was mine. She’d helped me through the worst time in my life. She’d given me something to be excited about...a future with her. She made facing this evening easier. “We have so much to look forward to—the rest of awards season, summer, your show’s renewal. But since the tour, I haven’t slowed down. I need to do that. And I will. I promise. But right now, I need to get through today.”

“You’ll be fine.”

I flattened my palms around the urn and nodded. I hoped she was right.

This evening at sunset, my band, our partners, and I would spread Phil’s ashes across the ocean, just off the rocks where he used to sit on the beach for hours and play his guitar or surf the wicked waves. We wanted to remember the fun times—not the bad. Not his addiction or substance abuse. It was time to put the past horrors behind us and be thankful for the good things that had happened since his death. Sutton had come into my life. My band and I had found Lewis, our new bassist. Tia, Cole’s sister, had come home from Chicago, quit acting, and joined our sound and lighting team. The guys and I had released an album and had been on an epic world tour. We’d won some trophies during this awards season. Freaking amazing.

We were on a high.

We should be riding the wave of success.

But instead . . . we were on a break . . . until the end of the year.

The guys had needed it. Me, not so much.

Time off made me nervous.

Unease continually swayed through my guts like an unwavering waltz. Knots twisted tighter and tighter in the back of my neck.

Why was I so unsettled? What plagued my mind more than my pending proposal?

The answer was simple.

I missed music.

I needed it more than oxygen. More than food and water and a roof over my head. I loved to write, to create, and to play. I missed having adoring fans scream and sing along to our songs. The rush of adrenaline from performing in front of huge crowds fed my soul. I was born to entertain. But with no albums planned, and no gigs booked, the future remained uncertain.

I didn’t like that. Not one little bit.

Shit!

This break could kill me.

Maybe I needed a new hobby. A project. But what? I had no idea.

Planning a proposal had kept me sane...somewhat. But it wasn’t enough.

I’d lost touch with music when Phil had died, and I never wanted to lose it again. I didn’t want to spiral back into the dark depths of depression or hit the bottle...or worse. I needed my band to reform. I needed the guys. They were my family . My life. A part of my soul, like music.

We’d originally planned a twelve-month hiatus, but three months had already been added, taking us to the end of the year. I prayed no more time off was required.

Five months down. Ten to go.

The countdown was on .

I took a deep breath to calm my thoughts and closed my eyes. Didn’t help much, but it was something.

Today, my friends and I would all be together for the first time in six and a half weeks, since Christmas. But as Sutton pulled into the hilltop parking lot near El Matador Beach and stopped in the space next to Tia’s Mercedes, the reason for our sunset gathering pummeled my chest. Familiar heaviness settled across my shoulders. Everyone was already here, waiting by the steps that led down to the beach.

I clutched the urn between my hands. The cold metal did nothing to chill my racing mind. I can do this. Yes. I can. I had to. But the backs of my eyes stung. My ribs hurt with every breath. Grief sucked. But I was okay. Sutton was there. So were my friends.

Fuck, it was good to see them.

Sutton killed the engine on my Ferrari. We opened the doors and hopped out. The ocean breeze hit my face, but for February, it wasn’t unpleasant. The sun slowly sank in the west. The water glistened beneath its fading rays. Seagulls dipped and darted about. With Phil’s ashes tucked under one arm, I drew my leather jacket closed across my chest. I veered around to the front of the car, joined Sutton, and stepped over to hug everyone hello.

“Good to see you, man.” Slip patted my back. He sucked in a long breath and stared out across the rock formations and beach below us. “I can’t believe I haven’t been here in years.”

“Me either.” I tightened my hold on the urn, reaching, searching, feeling for Phil’s presence. Yeah, he is here. Phil had loved surfing on every beach from Malibu to Zuma to Leo Carrillo. We all had. But none of us guys had hit the waves much...or at all...since he’d died. With time on my hands, I planned to surf with the guys once summer returned.

“Mads, how are you?” I gave her a big sideways cuddle .

“Fabulous.” She hugged me back, then snaked her arm around Slip and rested her head on his shoulder. “Good to be in LA for a few days. It’s so much warmer here than Vancouver.”

After opting to stay in Vancouver for his birthday yesterday, Slip and Maddy had flown in this morning. Slip, the fucker, looked good. Best he had in years. Fuller face. Healthy and fit after recovering from hip surgery and overcoming his addiction to painkillers. He’d been clean and sober for five months. I was so damn proud of him, but I was still worried. He lived so far away on Bowen Island. I hated I couldn’t stop by his house and make sure he wasn’t drinking alcohol, swallowing oxy, or hitting the blow on repeat. None of us wanted to go through that nightmare again.

But he was here for this special day. That meant the world to me.

“Tia? Lewis? How you doing?” I stepped around the circle to give Tia a kiss hello on the cheek, then hugged Lewis.

“Same old. Same old.” Lewis feigned a smile, unable to mask the fatigue in his tone. “No fresh news to report.”

As I stepped back, my chest twinged. They’d been trying for a baby with no success for eight months. The strain and disappointment etched into their faces hurt my heart. They wanted a family so badly. “Hang in there, bud. I’m just glad you could make it.” I gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Lewis dipped his chin.

I made my way over to Cole. “Hey, man.” I slapped him on the back, then gave Ava a kiss on the cheek hello. “Ava? Always good to see you.”

“You too.” She smiled, but no light touched her eyes. She fell in beside Cole. But as he draped his arm across her shoulders, she tensed. A couple of inches of distance remained between them. She angled away from him and talked to Maddy about Vancouver .

Shit. What is with that?

Since we’d finished the tour, Cole hadn’t slowed down. Instead of wild parties, boozy nights, and industry outings, he ran around, doting on Charlotte, his four-year-old daughter, Ava, and her seven-year-old son, Josh. He’d never faltered at being an awesome father. So whatever was going on in his relationship with Ava, I hoped they worked things out. They were so good for each other.

“Hey? Are your folks coming today?” Cole glanced toward the parking lot’s entrance.

“No.” I shook my head. “They said this would be too much for them, but they gave us their blessing.” Things had gotten better with my parents. At least they talked to me now after the accident. And they adored Sutton. But the loss of Phil still plagued them. “Phil would understand.”

No, he fucking wouldn’t. He’d be pissed, wanting everyone’s attention.

A pained but light giggle escaped Tia. “He’d be really shitty he’s not here and would be missing everyone like crazy. But he’d be happy we’re here celebrating him, and that we’re doing okay.” She sniffled and wiped her cheek. Her big, dark sunglasses didn’t hide the random tear trickling down her face. Her brave smile didn’t hide her heartache. She’d loved Phil as much as Slip, Cole and I had. But she, too, had moved on after losing Phil. We all had.

“Yeah. We are. Come on. Let’s do this.” Taking Sutton’s hand, I led my friends down the long run of wooden steps onto the beach. We headed a short way south along the water’s edge, over to the huge rock formation jutting out of the sand. We stopped before it and stood around a low boulder protruding out of the ground. I closed my eyes to keep a leash on my swinging emotions. The gentle rolling waves hitting the shoreline grounded me and calmed my mind .

I drew Sutton close, kissed her on the temple, then faced my friends.

Holding the urn between my hands, I ran my thumb over the engraved plaque.

Phil Glover

24 May 2000—10 Feb 2022

Rock On Forever

With a heavy heart, I placed the urn on top of the rock in the center of my friends. I fell back next to Sutton and entwined our fingers. She squeezed my hand and cuddled in close. My love. My clarity.

“Thanks everyone for coming.” I smiled at the urn on the rock. “Phil, once again, you hold center stage. You are and will always be a part of our lives and hold a special place in our hearts. We often spent hours here on these beaches. The guys and I thought this was the perfect place to set you free rather than keeping you locked up in that pot. Please don’t haunt us if you hate it.” The muscles in my jaw ached as I struggled to keep my voice steady. I didn’t want to be sad anymore. “I want you to know I will never forget you. You filled my life with laughter, crazy fun, and were the best brother a guy could’ve asked for. I love you and miss you every fucking day.”

Sutton snaked her arm around my waist and rubbed my back. Just her touch was comforting and grounding.

Tia sobbed and sniffled as she stepped forward. She kneeled on the sand and touched the side of the urn. “Hey, Philly. It’s been a while. I miss you so fucking much. Even though you broke my heart, I loved you. And I know you loved me. You always wanted to soar, live life, and never be tied down. May you ride the waves and the wind forever. Keep rocking up a storm. Love you.”

Lewis took small steps toward Tia, helped her to her feet, and drew her back into the circle. He held her against his chest like she was a delicate flower. But Tia was far from it. She was one of the toughest people I’d ever known. Totally resilient.

“I got you, Tee.” Lewis rubbed her arms and kissed the side of her head. “Always.”

Directly across from me, Slip splayed his hand across his chest and stared at the urn. Deep grooves furrowed his brow. “Phil, I can’t believe it’s been three years. It’s been hard. I miss that wicked laugh of yours, the partying, and the crazy shit we got up to. I miss playing beside you. You’ve left a huge fucking hole in my chest. Life without you got ugly before it got better. We’ve all fought demons and the devil to get here. If you played a part in bringing Sutton, Maddy, Ava, and Lewis to us, thank you. They saved us. Support us. Love us. You’d love them. You may be gone, but you’ll never be forgotten. Love you, man. Miss you. Rest in peace.”

He wiped his hand across his cheek, then his mouth, staying strong. Maddy curled her arm around his and held him close. Those two were each other’s strength. I loved that. It was how I felt about Sutton.

“Phil.” Lewis jutted his chin toward the rock. “I never knew you, but I know these guys and Tia loved you. I’m honored to be part of their lives and want you to know I’m taking good care of Tia. She’s changed my life in so many mind-blowing ways, and we hope to have a family soon.” He rubbed the back of Tia’s neck. “I love her and promise to be by her side forever. Rest in peace, bro.”

“Fuck.” Cole eased toward the rock and squatted. “Hey, buddy. You haven’t looked this good in years.” Cole chuckled, but sadness punched my guts. I hated that he’d told the truth. That a shiny chrome urn on a jagged rock looked better than Phil had in the last several months of his life. “You certainly messed us up when you left. The days are getting easier, but that doesn’t mean for one second we’ll forget you. I’ll always treasure the laughs, the music, the good times. Hope you’re rocking it up there in Heaven with some sexy angels. Party on...Love you, man.”

Cole wiped his eyes and returned to Ava’s side. She touched his arm and gave it a gentle rub, but that was as far as the comforting gesture went.

Damn. What is up with those two?

More drama?

Always.

The girls respectfully said a few quick words, wishing Phil peace and were grateful they’d come into our lives. I couldn’t argue with that.

I sniffled and drew my shoulders back. “So, bro, before we send you on your way, can I ask for one last favor? Promise me that the band will get back together before the end of the year? I miss playing with these guys so goddamn much. As much as I fucking miss you.”

“Flint?” Slip grimaced as if I’d cut him a low blow to the gut. “I can’t guarantee a timeframe.”

“I know.” I lowered my chin and stared at the urn. In the depths of my marrow, I understood why Slip had needed to get out of LA, away from the parties, the drugs, the booze. To spend time with Maddy, and work on their marriage. To focus on healing his hip and holding onto his sobriety. I supported him without question. I’d give him all the time in the world to get better if needed. But that didn’t mean his absence didn’t feed my anxieties. I was nervous we wouldn’t reform. “I just don’t want to be on a break forever.”

“There are no guarantees.” Slip closed his eyes and swayed on his feet. “I’ll come back when I’m ready.”

“I know you will. Your health comes first. I mean that.” I did. But I’d be better with certainty. I wanted a concrete date for our band to reunite and hated one couldn’t be set.

“I’m with Flint.” Cole nodded as he tilted his head toward Slip. “We want you to do whatever is necessary to be well. But yeah...I miss the band being together. We’d love you and Maddy to come home.”

“Fuck, I thought Flint was the only one with issues—not you too?” Slip clutched Maddy’s hand as if steadying himself. “Mads goes back to filming her show in a few months. We’re not coming home permanently. You know that.”

“We do. We’ll work with that.” Lewis splayed his hand across his chest. “But I miss you, too. I just haven’t said how much.”

An ache shuddered through my chest. The band meant so much to all of us. We needed Slip. We weren’t complete without him.

“Don’t keep shit from me.” Slip shook his head like it weighed a ton. “Talk to me, all of you. About anything and everything. I don’t want to go through any crap like we’ve done in the past three years, keeping secrets from each other ever again. Deal?”

“Okay.” I bobbed my head in some way that resembled a nod, then wiped my hand down my face. “We just miss having you around. Miss playing every day. I need to work toward something, not nothing.”

Music was such a big part of who I was. Without it, a huge void lingered in my chest. The unknown bred unwanted stress. I needed deadlines. Goals. Timeframes...to work on a new album.

“I’m not missing LA.” Slip stared across the ocean. “I need this break.”

“I understand that. And want the best for you. But you’ve gotta fucking come back.” My heart hurt without having Slip only a couple miles away.

“I don’t want to risk fucking up.” Apprehension quaked low in Slip’s tone. “My hip is good, but I don’t want to re-injure it. When I’m more confident about being in control around booze and drugs, I’ll let you know. Mads and I need more time together.”

“That’s cool.” I pulled the reins back on my tone and dialed down my volume. I didn’t want to upset him. “We all just love you, care about you, and miss you as much as we miss Phil.”

“At least I’m still kicking.” Slip threw me a lop-sided smirk.

I placed my hand across my heart and dipped my chin. “And for that, I will be forever thankful. Don’t ever scare us again.”

“Then don’t pressure me to come back.” He was serious, but so was I. Slip needed a little nudge and a ton of reassurance to let him know how much he meant to me and the guys, if nothing else.

“We’re not The Flintlocks without you.” I meant that with all my heart. “Our fucking lives depend on you.”

He winced, stared toward the sand, then nodded. Puffing air through his nose, he smirked. “So much for no pressure.”

“No. No pressure.” Softening my tone, I winked at him and let the conversation rest. “Not today. It’s Phil’s day.” I picked up the urn, hugged it tight to my chest and headed toward the low rocks that led out into the water. I stared toward the horizon, drew in a deep breath, and took off the lid.

Everything seemed to still.

No sound hit my ears. No wind touched my face. My heart dared not beat.

Images of Phil laughing, dancing, and playing his guitar flickered through my mind. As I stared at the gray ash, a calm washed over me. A lone tear slid down my face, but I smiled. Yeah, this is right. What he wants.

“Goodbye, bro.” I whispered. “For now. Not forever. Love you.”

Everyone gathered around and hugged me. They placed a hand on the urn and said their goodbyes.

After a gentle wave crashed on the shore and slowly retreated, I tipped Phil’s ashes into the water. In slow, languid rolls, they drifted out, past the rocks and into the depths of the deep, blue sea.

I stood huddled next to my friends. Each one of us held a hand over our hearts and watched the serene waves take Phil toward the setting sun.

I said one silent last prayer. Help me get the band back together. Can you do that? Please?

If Sutton was my wife and my band was back together, life would be complete. Perfect.

At least I could do something about one of those things.

And I couldn’t wait.