Chapter 81 Derrick
DERRICK
Christmas Day with the Dirty Texas crew always feels like a fever dream. Kids screaming like they’re possessed. Football in Evan’s man cave. So much food. Random people coming and going.
“I’m going to warn you, things are crazy today,” I warn Rowan as Charlie parks the car in Sienna and Evan’s driveway. We have an entire car filled with presents. Did I go overboard? Yes, I did. Do I regret it? No, I don’t.
“Hanging out with y’all has become my new favorite hell.” Charlie chuckles, kissing the side of my head as we walk up the driveway. “I’m glad I’ve got backup now.” He grins, looking over at Rowan.
“You’re telling me it’s even louder than when I’m here?” Rowan smiles. We’ve caught up with Rowan a lot more than the others, but only because he is literally in LA now once a month for work, and I’m in New York the same amount of time.
“It is, but it’s loud because there’s so much love.” This makes both of them laugh.
We reach the front door just as Evan is walking out.
“Merry Christmas, fellas.” He grins on his way to get rid of some trash.
“Hey, Evan, can I get some help with the presents in the back of the car?” Charlie asks him.
A shrieking, high-pitched “D, D!” explodes through the air. Ruby and Sadie barrel out the front door like tiny pink missiles with Ryder right on their tails.
“Fucking hell,” Christian curses as he chases them. “When did they get so quick? Their legs are so tiny,” he grumbles.
The two little princesses wrap their arms around each of my legs, and Ryder comes in the middle and nearly hits my crown jewels.
“Hello, my little possums.” I try to continue to walk inside, but I have two little ones on my legs. “Merry Christmas, guys,” I tell them as I slowly make my way toward the front door.
“Girls, can you let Uncle Derrick go? He needs to use his legs to walk,” Christian tells them. They both pout, but Ryder is the first to move, and then the other two walk back over to their dad.
“Ryder, did you want to help Daddy with the presents?” His little face lights up, and he rushes over to where Evan and Charlie are walking toward our car.
“Merry Christmas, D,” Christian says, hugging me and then does the same to Rowan.
“Welcome to the mad house.” He chuckles as we enter Sienna and Evan’s home, and he isn’t wrong, it seems even more chaotic this year than last, probably because all the babies are growing up.
Everyone is here. The entire band’s families are here, the girls’ parents are, too.
Stacey and her new family, who have taken to LA like a duck to water, then there’s the Sons of Brooklyn boys and the Gypsy Sisters, as they haven’t gone home to their families this year.
Jackson and some of the security guys are here, too.
“Wow, there are a lot of people.” Rowan gasps, taking it all in.
“They love hosting and also don’t like it if anyone is alone over the holidays.”
Inside, the house looks like Christmas threw up everywhere. Tinsel on every surface. A tree so big it might be sentient. Finn is wrestling Oscar for control of a tray of ham. Isla is gorgeous and glowing, and yelling at them to stop before she beats them both with a wooden spoon.
I grin. My people.
Presents were opened, food was eaten, and half the people have started to fall asleep.
I don’t think the eggnog helped. The boys have moved into Evan’s man cave to watch the football, which is a Christmas tradition in his family as Texans.
I tell Charlie to go join them as I help clean up.
I notice a phone left on the coffee table, but I’m not prepared to see the notification that comes across the screen.
Arran: When can you sneak away again? I had fun.
I still.
What the actual fuck?
“Oh, hey, D,” Chance says behind me, making me jump. “Merry Christmas,” he says rather awkwardly.
“I told you to stay away from him,” I hiss.
Chance’s face turns pale. “I have.”
“Bullshit.” I glare at him. “A message came through on your phone from him saying, ‘When can we sneak away again. I had fun.’” Chance swallows hard.
“I told you to leave him alone.”
“I did,” Chance argues, “but he was persistent.”
My jaw drops. “You block him then.”
Chance just stares at me as he bites his lip. “I don’t want to do that.”
“Excuse me?”
“I like him, D.”
His words are like a gut punch. “I don’t care if you like him. He is my new family.”
“This has nothing to do with you,” he tells me.
“Like hell it doesn’t. I’m not going to stand for this. I’m telling him about us.”
“Derrick, please, don’t,” Chance asks.
I still. “You haven’t told him?” Chance doesn’t say anything. “You were always so good with the lies.”
“Don’t make this about us.”
“This isn’t because of jealousy, Chance, this is because I don’t think you are good enough for my brother. You are the last person I want him to be with. You will destroy that boy,” I yell at him.
“That’s not fair.”
“Not fair. You destroyed me, Chance. You have left so many scars on my fucking heart.” I curse at him, trying to hold back my emotions because he doesn’t deserve it. “I will not let you do the same to him.”
“I’m sorry,” Chance whispers.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, D. You’re right. I fucked up with you. So, fucking badly, and I wish like hell that I treated you better, but …” He sighs, running his hand through his hair. “I was messed up. If you hadn’t forced me to seek help, I don’t think I’d be here.”
I blink at him, unsure what to say.
“I have a long way to go, but since Hawaii and seeing you and Charlie so fricken happy, so much happier than you ever were with me, it made me want to change. You are a fucking great guy, D, and I treated you like shit because of my own insecurities and trauma. Everything you have said to me was true. I’m bisexual, I like both women and men, and now that I’ve finally settled into who I am, the anger and the need to self-medicate seems to have eased. ”
“I’m glad you finally know who you are.”
“Thanks,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sober, D. I’ve decided to try to start living cleanly.”
“But I saw you drinking beer.”
“It’s non-alcoholic beer. Looks the same, just didn’t want to advertise it to anyone.”
I’m so confused. Guess, good on him for trying to better himself.
“I was sober when I met Arran. He’s my first sober …”
“Relationship?” I add.
Chance shakes his head. “Situationship,” he corrects me.
“I can’t get behind this, you understand.”
Chance lets out a heavy sigh. “I’ll talk to him tonight. I’ll tell him everything.”
“That would be good.”
“But …” Chance says, his eyes narrowing, “if after everything I tell him, and I’m sure you’ll have something to say when you go over there …” Damn straight I will, “if after all that he still wants me, I don’t want you to get in our way.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“That’s not fair,” Chance argues.
“It’s not fair that you are leading that boy on.”
“He’s in the closet, too, he’s like me, bi. I don’t think I need to advertise my sexuality to the world, it’s none of their fucking business,” Chance argues with me.
He’s right. It’s no one’s business. “The public doesn’t deserve to know, but your friends do. I mean, they all knew about us.”
“Excuse me.”
“Blake knows. You’re not as sneaky as you think you are. I don’t know about the other two. Dirty Texas knows, the girls too.”
“You fucking told them?”
“They have eyes, Chance, and yes, I did tell them because you kept fucking me over.” Chance falls silent over that. “And have they treated you any differently?”
“Um, yeah, they have,” he grumbles.
“It’s not because of your sexuality, it’s because of their loyalty to me.”
“You turned them against me?”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t have to do anything, your actions did. If I really turned them against you, do you think you would have been invited today or to any other event that you’ve come to?” Chance’s jaw falls open at that. “Exactly, you wouldn’t have been invited.”
“You want my thanks or something?”
“Stop being a dick and listen to me.” Chance rolls his eyes. “What I’m telling you is they don’t care if you are screwing a man, a woman, or a unicorn. What they do care about is if you are screwing over a friend of theirs.”
“Really?” He seems surprised.
“Yes. Really. You seriously think all these people care what you’re into?
Don’t forget they all have membership to The Paradise Club.
” This makes Chance laugh. “They are all freaky in their own way. They won’t ever throw stones in glass houses.
What they won’t tolerate is assholes. And you have been a huge asshole. ”
Chance scrunches up his face. “I have been.”
“If you want people to accept you, you need to firstly accept yourself and then show them that you’re not some egotistical jerk, because that’s all you’ve shown them over the years.”
“Fuck. Guess I’m on my redemption tour.”
“Just don’t tour anywhere near London or fucking Scotland.” I raise a brow at him.
Chance glares at me. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I really like Arran.
” I still for a moment, not because I’m jealous of his words, but because I can hear the sincerity behind them.
“He’s going through the same thing as me, grappling with his sexuality and being in the closet for so long, and the height of expectations of others.
” Shit. I had no idea. And I hate the fact that it’s Chance who is telling me this.
“He’s the only person I can talk to, and the same goes for him.
” I had no idea Arran was having such a hard time.
Feels like we really do need a chat when I’m there.
“I know you’re pissed, and I totally get it, but I’m the only person he has to talk to about it all. ”
“And hooking up with him is helping him?”
“It’s not a hook up to me,” he confesses. Oh. “I like him, D, I really do. And I know it won’t work out for us because he is there and I’m here. And he is him and I am me. But when we are together … everything feels right.”
Oh shit.
“This is weird.”
“I know, but …” he bites his bottom lip, “talk to Arran and let him explain and … if he wants me, please let us be.”
My brows pull together. “I don’t know if I can,” I tell him honestly.
“I get it.”
“I don’t hate you, Chance.”
“Kind of feels like it.”
He’s right. “Guess, I’m still angry over how you treated me. Like I said, you left scars on my heart.”
“I know, and I am genuinely so sorry. I hurt you. I treated you like shit even after knowing what others had done to you. Not that I’m using the drugs and alcohol as an excuse, but I was fucked up.”
It shouldn’t be an excuse, but I understand that he wasn’t his normal self while under the influence. “So, you truly are going to therapy?”
He nods. “I don’t want to live like that anymore. The rock and roll lifestyle isn’t a good life for some people.”
“Well, I hope you stick with it.”
“I am. I want to be better. I want to stay sober. It sucks that I can feel everything clearer now that I’m not numb to my emotions, but the therapist is helping me through it.” Guess there isn’t much more for me to say. “Give me time, and I’ll show you I’ve changed.”
“Time will tell, I guess. Merry Christmas, Chance,” I tell him as I walk away.